Owner Pose
Roy Harper This afternoon Roy set a time with Helena to meet at Scoops, a popular grill and ice cream parlor on campus at Gotham University. Roy arrived first. He managed to snag a table in the back corner. Score! Now both brooding vigilantes can sit with their back to a wall. He has a Calc III textbook open -- ugh, who doesn't hate multivariable calculus? -- and a small MacBook and is working on homework. The look on his face combined with his muttering seems to clearly demonstrate /his/ opinion on the matter.

"What?" he says a bit sharply as he looks up. The waitress who got him a cherry Coke moused over to ask if she could get Roy any food. His expression and tone instantly soften. "I'm sorry," he says genuinely. "This...this crap..." He motions with his hands at the textbook. "...has me all stressed out." He gives the waitress that signature winning smile of his. That has gotten him out of a LOT of trouble in the past. "I'm waiting for someone. I'll order when she gets here." The smile appeases the waitress into forgetting that she was just grumped at and she goes to work on other tables.
Helena Wayne The rumble of Helena's big bike outside announces her arrival. The woman walks into Scoops a few moments after the exhaust sounds stop, pulling off her helmet and flipping back all that long, black hair. A quick look around, then she heads for the back.

Just in time to rescue the waitress, it seems. Helena can be very quiet when she chooses, but the scuff of boot heels behind the girl give away her presence. "He giving you any problems?" she asks, setting the helmet down heavily on a seat before she slides right in. "Vanilla Coke." Helena orders, lightly tousling her hair. "How about we start with a plate of onion rings? And an extra plate for all -his- ketchup."
Roy Harper When Helena arrives, a smile crosses Roy's features. Talking to her is way better than calc homework. He shrugs innocently. "What? I like ketchup?" He then looks to the waitress. "Just to be safe, better bring some fries too." He gives her another one of his cute smiles. He has really learned to weaponize those lips.

He leans back in his chair playfully and says in a goofy tone, "Sup. I was just kicking some homework's ass. No big deal. Math." He can't hold the straight face for any longer and he cracks into a chuckle.
Helena Wayne Helena Wayne lifts a brow at the mention of 'Math', glancing down at his textbook as if doubting his word. "Sorry, I'm giving up Math for Lent." she declares with a straight face. Unshouldering her own backpack, she sets it beside the helmet. "I wasn't aware that this was going to be a study-date, actually."

Did she just use the 'D' word? Yes, and casually even. "Seriously, though, I'm a Crim-major. We're exempt from any math more complex than simple counting; it's explicitly stated." When the waitress slips away, Helena leans in a bit and lowers her voice. "And you really should stop tormenting the servers, or they'll throw us out."
Roy Harper With a playful flourish, Roy closes the textbook and the shuts the top on the laptop. "No study date, I got here early so I figured I'd make good use of my time. "But now it's hang-out-Helena-and-eat-food time. Study time is over."

"And who am I tormenting? I'm trying to maintain friendly relations with the locals. It increases the effectiveness of my ability to patrol," he opines with his eyes closed momentarily.

Now that the obligatory goofiness is dispenses with, he crosses one leg over the other and offers an honest smile to Helena. "S'good to see you again. You okay? Up to anything big?"
Helena Wayne Helena Wayne returns the grin, looking from him to the departing waitress on the subject of tormenting. And back again. "Mm hmmm." she replies, leaving her own backpack closed in response. Leaning forward a bit, she rests her chin on one hand as he settles.

"It's good to see you, too." Helena replies. "I've -heard- there may be 'something' going on tomorrow night, but can't talk details here. Stay sharp. Be good to have you there if you're free."

She leans back a bit, then, settling comfortably. There's a bit of a wince, and even Helena can't disguise it completely. "Ended up getting a few stitches the other night. Nothing serious, and it really hurt my pride more than anything."
Roy Harper "Yeah, for sure, I'm around tomorrow. Got nothing planned," Roy responds. When he see Helena wincing he gets a sympathetic look on his face. He's been there. He knows what it's like. There may not even be a real number that quantifies how many stitches he's gotten.

He nods in Helena's direction. "Where d'ya get hit? I mean, other than in your pride?" A small, playful grin.

Just then the fries and onion rings arrive, with the requested extra plate! Roy says to the waitress, "Hey thanks! Could I get a double bacon and mushroom cheeseburger with swiss, extra pickles, pink in the middle?" Then he proceeds to FLOOD the extra plate with ketchup, then uses three fries to scoop up as much as they will hold and pops it all in his mouth.
Helena Wayne Helena Wayne wrinkles her nose, but she waits until the waitress arrives with the first plate. Shaking her head at him judgementally as she watches the ketchup assault, Helena orders next. "Bacon cheesburger with barbecue sauce. Medium." Long, manicured fingers carefully pluck a couple of onion rings to set them aside for the burger.

Once their order is confirmed, Helena slowly raising her left arm high. Tracing a long, horizontal line along her lower ribs with a fingertip, she offers. "There were only six, but one pulled a knife at the last second. I left it in his thigh, and he's got quite a few bones broken in his hand."
Roy Harper A slow grin creeps across Roy's face. "Dang, girl, remind me never to pull a knife on you." He got ketchup on his chin. He's either saving it for later or doesn't know it's there.

"About a year ago I was chillin' on the roof near Park Row. It was like three in the morning and I had basically convinced myself that it was going to be a quiet night but a big fight broke out between some bangers. Now normally I was have just let them go at it until there were only a few left but some of these bangers were just /kids/ and you could tell they didn't want to be there. So I hopped in and started, you know, doing my thing when this little shit who couldn't have been a day over twelve shoved a knife right in my left ass cheek." He shakes his head, laughing a little. "THAT hurt. It was several days before I was walking again."
Helena Wayne Helena Wayne smirks again and lowers her arm, nodding as he talks about Park Row. "Why is it always the kids, too? I mean you'd just knocked out *how* many, and that kid thought he could prove himself or something. Just a second..." She reaches across the table and delicately wipes the ketchup from his chin with her fingertips.

"Maybe the waitress can bring you a bib, or a dropcloth." she offers. Considering what to do with her fingers for a moment, she picks up a fry and wipes them off on it before consuming it. "The one who cut me was definitely older than twelve, and my suit kept it shallow."
Roy Harper Roy follows Helena's hand with his eyes. When he gets close to his face, he playfully crosses his eyes. "Hey, what are ya doing?" he demands. "I was saving that for later!" Then he picks up another fry and dabs it around on his chin in case there's any more there.

"Yeah I don't know the answer to that," Roy says, growing more serious. "These kids got nothin'. Even their community centers are shit holes. Why wouldn't they join a gang? I would in their situation. The bullshit white guilt dream that these kids can raise themselves up by their bootstraps is a bunch of crap." Uh-oh. He just got dark.
Helena Wayne Helena Wayne chuckles, crunching on her fry and rolling her eyes at his face-dabbing. "I got it all." she declares. Plucking up an onion ring, she drags it -lightly- through the ketchup before taking a bite. Then the conversation turns dark and her humor fades as well.

"That's one of the reasons why I'm in Gotham instead of New York." she replies. "That, and I have sentimental attachments to this place." Another onion ring is christened, and she points towards him with it. "If you'd join a gang, imagine the opposite. What if we were able to keep one kid free and clear? Just one? Wouldn't that be worth it?"

Her voice lowers again and she leans in just a little. "I mean, my dad was able to turn around my mom? That's a pretty big change."
Roy Harper Roy isn't quite sure how to respond to that so he buys himself some time by taking a big drink of cherry Coke. He picks up a fry then just tosses it back on the plate and he leans back in his chair.

"That's a nice fantasy," he admits with a chin-flick nod in Helena's direction. "But how could ever know? I mean, you can't just follow around everyone hoping that one or two make it out of the ghetto." Big exhales. "Honestly," he says with zero self-pity and zero angst, "If I could save just one...I mean really know I truly saved them, I'd risk my life for that. No question." A shrug. He repositions his napkin and silverware to vent off some nervous energy.
Helena Wayne Helena Wayne's voice remains low and those red lips pull into a small, knowing smile. She points with a fry this time, lifting a dark brow. "That's exactly why I do it." she replies. "Because you never know whether -this- will be the one. That kid. Can't save 'em all, but that doesn't mean we can't try."

She takes a sip of her drink after he does, but leaves her silverware alone. "Maybe you find out later, but odds are you won't. That part doesn't matter to me, so long as there's at least a chance of it."

Before the dark conversation can continue, however, the burgers arrive.