16315/Welcome to the Farm

Welcome to the Farm
Date of Scene:	28 May 2024
Location:	Interior - Wayne Manor
Synopsis:	Damian invites Gwen to the Manor. She's awestruck and cautious and Damian is seemingly carefree, yet sincere.
Cast of Characters:	Robin (Wayne), Ghost Spider

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Robin (Wayne) has posed:
Another day.

Another night.

But the day? Well, that comes with it's own set of surprises. It's an odd thing, basically having a girlfriend. Though they haven't labelled themselves as such, Damian wondered if he and Gwen were now a couple. Though, regardless of such, Damian's invitation to Wayne Manor stands. After all, she has to see the cow 'farm' that Damian has managed to produce. It was only a few texts...

and once they had sent, they were quickly answered.

It didn't take long until Gwen was back on Damian's motorcycle. This time he at least brought the poor girl a helmet to protect her hair. Damian himself was wearing some lightly ripped jeans, some simple shoes, a black jacket with a bird logo on the back, and of course...no helmet.

Damian doesn't *do* helmets.

Stupid, yes, but Damian's always had a little brush with death since he was a newborn. The ride is just as thrilling and vigorous, as fast-paced and devil-may-care as the first. It takes only perhaps twenty minutes to reach the Manor with Damian's rather nonchalant manner of driving. By the time Damian drives through that tall archway and metal gates? He drifts to a perfect stop, a little smile on his face.

"Tip for the driver?"

A playful callback to hte first time Gwen ever dared to get on a bike with him.

Ghost Spider has posed:
Gwen's actually dressed for the ride, this time, too.

It's not quite as uber-casual as she was when she had literally just come over to some cathartic crying and drinking coffee at Angelica's, but it's close. She's still in jeans, but not the jeans with holes in them -- these are dark wash, sleek, hip hugging, and as 'fashionable' as jeans can get. Her top isn't just a 'Mary Janes' t-shirt, either. It's a nice blouse that she wears under a canvas jacket, and on her feet are a pair ankle boots with chunky heels. Jewelry is light. Studs that probably aren't real diamonds in her ears and silver bracelets on each wrist that are mostly obscured by the jacket, anyway. No necklace.

Casual-chic, maybe.

She has her backpack with her, too. A brown canvas bag that seems pretty stuffed for the trip. The reminders from Damian that she was welcome to stay (no pressure) had come at a time when she was feeling particularly 'ready' to experience something new.

Whatever that meant.

The result, in any case, was that she said she'd bring a couple changes of clothes... just in case.

At the time, she was particularly pumped about a new adventure, but the nerves started when Damian pulled up to pick her up. And they didn't get any better when Wayne Manor came into view for the first time.

"I thought we were going to your house!" she says against his ear as they ride up the driveway, voice still raised to carry over the engine noise. How was it possible that it's _bigger_ in person than in the pictures? Yes, she looked it up after Damian invited her. Of course she looked it up. "But if we need to stop at this giant-castle-looking-thing, that's cool too!"

The motorcycle slows to a stop, and the blonde slips her helmet off, shaking her hair out as she looks up at the front of the building.

Alllllllllll the way up.

Three enormous stories... maybe four? Plus turrets.

Holy gothic cathedral, Batman.

_Tip?_

"Uhhh... warn a girl that you live at Hogwarts?"

She smiles and leans forward over his shoulder, giving him a kiss on the cheek before she dismounts, this time.

Girlfriend... there's a dangerous conversation to be had. Last time she was someone's girlfriend, it didn't go so great. And she probably blames herself for that. So... yeah.

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
Casual chic is still chic.

Or at least, that's Damian's view on things. All the same, Damian smirked when he was driving up to Wayne Manor and Gwen spoke against his ear once more: she thought they were going to his house. "It is my house." He tells her right back with a cheeky smirk. He didn't say he'd take her to a house that he necessarily *owned*, but...it is his birthright. And with Bruce out of town for awhile, well...no better time to show Gwen around without getting hella intimidated by the classically stoic Bruce Wayne.

Then again, Damian got all of his charm from *somebody.*

Staying on his bike for a moment, he looks at the house then back to Gwen, smiling as he watches her golden hair descend to her shoulders. "I'll send an owl next time. Don't get me started on how cruel a society of wizards who can instantaneously travel anywhere on earth use nature's slowest bird to send their mail. Feels petty." He smirks at the little 'tip' though, feeling the warmth of her lips against his cheek. "My lips are over here." Damian looks at her then, a little glint of mischief in his eyes as his finger gently rises to touch softly against his lips.

Then he's dismounting his bike.

"Welcome to Wayne Manor. Figure I can give you the guided tour while everyone's away. Saves the awkwardness of being forced to meet family or what have you."

Ghost Spider has posed:
Laughter, genuine and surprised, bubbles up at the mention of the owls.

"You really are an animal lover," she muses.

But then there's the comment about his lips.

"Huh."

She's all big, innocent eyes, faint blush, and cocky grin.

"I guess I'll... have to work on my aim."

Somewhere _else_ though. Because dying of embarrassment from getting busted sucking face with Damian Wayne on his his motorcycle in front of Wayne Manor was _not_ on her to-do list.

...Not that that didn't also sound _really_ hot.

Tucking her hands into her jacket pockets, she spins around slowly as she's backing away -- getting distance, exhibiting some independence, taking in the sights, and breathing. Every step is confident. Graceful. Like a dancer on a stage that she's performed on her entire life, even though she's never stepped foot on the steps of Wayne Manor.

To the careful observer, there's so much to see in that moment, when she's not being so carefully guarded.

She moves like a dancer, but she keeps an eye on her surroundings like a soldier. She loves -- she has passion and loneliness and need and desire -- but she is _fiercely_ independent and unafraid to be alone.

"I appreciate that. I mean -- not that I don't want to meet your family." She finished her spin, turning to face him again, her smile once more going awkward. "I'm sure they're wonderful. I just... I don't want to get in the middle of things, you know? I mean, cows are one thing. But like... I don't want to be in the way. Not that..." She glances over her shoulder, flapping her hands in her jacket pockets awkwardly. "...I mean, not that, unless there's like an army living in there, anyone could really be in each other's way. This place could sleep like a thousand people..."

A fiercely independent, unafraid to be alone, nervously rambling idiot sometimes.

But at least she's here. That counts for something, right?

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
"Can't help it. It's part of my code."

Damian smiles at her a little bit. That cocky grin, those innocent eyes, it's all looking at him right in the eyes. Damian's eyes lower from her eyes to her lips...to her neck...to lower. Though despite his seemingly innocent ability to 'admire the Lord's creation' as it were, Damian is respectful enough not to *stare*, at least not for so long as to make her incredibly uncomfortable. "Maybe you will." He teases her faintly. Though as he's walking with her, he smirks and watches her eyes as they travel over the estate.

But this is also a test.

He watches how she has an almost soldier's perspective. She's looking at things in a brand new surrounding. Where one could attack. Pounce. Strike. What's a good vantage point. Where someone could be watching. Damian respects it. She lives. She laughs. She loves. She's passionate. She cries. She fights. She's independant.

She'd have to be at least independant...long nights can mean long distance. Especially if she ever had the misfortune of finding out that he's Robin.

"Heh. It's okay, I get it. My family can be...a little intimidating." Damian remarks to Gwen in that moment, closing his eyes as he remembers harsh personalities like Jason and a little awkward like Tim and super suave and charming like Dick and...honestly, downright terrifying like Cassandra.

So instead of saying anything snarky? He just...walks up beside her, his hand reaching to take her own if she allows the contact, even with her hands in her pockets. He's a bold one, even as a smile is plastered onto his face. "What do you want to see first?"

Ghost Spider has posed:
If a girl grows up in Brooklyn, in the thick of everything from angry mutants to alien invasions (PLUS having to deal with all of the rest of the crap that girls have to deal with on a daily basis anyway) and she's still that independent? Chances are, she's going to look a little like a soldier.

Especially if she also happens to regularly fight the Sinister Six -- with or without Spider-Man's help.

It's too bad she can't explain that.

He thinks his _family_ is intimidating? Damian Wayne is plenty intimidating himself, if she allows herself even a few seconds to stop and dwell on ridiculous it is that she's here at all.

She's a New Yorker. Plus, she's Gwen. Even just on the steps of the manor, she's like a beacon of unnatural holy light in the grimdark of Gotham. _Lord's creation_ indeed.

She doesn't dwell, though. She tries not to give herself a chance to, and the hand that reaches for hers does a good job of adding to that distraction. She draws her hand out of her pocket and slips it into his, her smile infectious.

"I'm not gonna lie. I kinda wanna see inside. Beyond that.. I don't know. I was promised cows, but I'm going to guess they're not inside."

Beat.

"Unless they are. I mean, it's not like there wouldn't be enough space."

That grin quirks a bit more.

"It's up to you. You're the tour guide. I'm just..."

Just what?

"...just an awkward tourist that's grateful to have a behind-the-scenes look, I guess."

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
Damian boldly manages to claim Gwen's hand. Now they move together...and are a little bit closer to one another as a result. Damian's thumb brushes against the back of her hand, respectfully managing not to intertwine their fingers unless she wants them to. He treats her like a lady...even if he kissed like something else entirely the other night. As they walk together towards the steps of the actual Mansion, Damian seems to smile at her.

"Here, let's walk up the stairs and maybe show you the grounds on the way to the guest room, so you can at least put down your stuff. Don't worry, nobody's going to go through it. Though Ace might sniff at it if you have some stuff in there like food." He smirks at her playfully. "And...you want to see inside. That's more than enough reason to bring you there." As soon as they reach the door? Damian simply opens the door. A pull of the heavy frame and Damian leads Gwen inside by the hand, careful to close the door behind him.

"There, away from prying eyes." He winks at her playfully, though he hears that she's just a tourist and he shakes his head. "Nonsense. You're my guest...and quite the woman already. I won't have your worth talked down to." Damian frowns in that moment, giving her a slight nudge with his shoulder.

"Now...should we begin with the kitchen or do you want to see your room and work our way down?"

Ghost Spider has posed:
There's something about it -- that _look_ she gets from him when he says he won't have her worth talked down to. It's so sincere. So protective. So reassuring. So... real.

And that's just it, isn't it? This whole thing has felt like some kind of dream brought on by months of loneliness and insecurity. She was alone for _so_ long, and then she had Peter in her life nearly every day.

But then she didn't. And she'd struggled with that... whether she was just being insecure, whether she'd made a mistake going on tour, whether she wasn't trying hard enough, whether he'd found someone else and not told her.

There were so many unanswered questions, and she blamed herself for all of them. The upshot was that, if she'd been a better girlfriend, she wouldn't be standing here with Damian Wayne in some twenty-billion-square-foot manor.

But she hadn't been, and she hated herself for it. She hated that Peter was struggling with a warrant out for Spider-Man's arrest, and she left. She hated that was feeling alone, and she focused on her band. She hated that they'd grown apart and she didn't know how to fix it.

For days, it felt like Damian Wayne was her brain's way of trying to repair the hurt and the loneliness -- a straight-out-of-a-romance-novel love interest with too much charm, too much confidence, too much bad-boy attitude, too much money to be real. She felt like at some point she'd surely wake up and either realize it had all been a dream or that Damian Wayne was just using her. Maybe for her looks. Maybe because he was secretly a super-villain that was just trying to get close to her.

But then there's moments like that.

_I won't have your worth talked down to._

And it feels so real. Tangible. Overwhelmingly honest, and that's almost worse than the handsome, rich, bad-boy thing. It makes it feel like he could actually be a real partner, and that's... terrifying.

She's not nervous because he's a billionaire. She keeps telling herself that because it feels like it should be true, but Gwen Stacy has been swooned over money.

She's not nervous because he's a 'bad boy.' At the point that you've ridden Vulture through buildings and been thrown off of the Goblin's glider in the middle of Manhattan, riding a guy's motorcycle is just... fun. It's not scary.

She's terrified because she might have genuine feelings for someone besides Peter, and she doesn't know how to handle that.

That nudge to her shoulder makes her sheepish smile turn playful. Grateful. Coy. She didn't know what to say to that. Thankfully, she didn't have to say anything. She latches on to that next question like a drowning woman to a life preserver.

"How about the kitchen?"

The answer's too fast, but the reason is obvious. Getting trapped in a bedroom with Damian in that moment feels _far_ too dangerous. And even though she squeezes his hand, she drops it so she can move around more.. so she can look around at the art on the walls, the vases, the statues... all of it, without dragging him around like a dog on a leash.

Or maybe just because she needed a little breathing room. And that seemed like the best excuse, at the moment.

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
Damian is a sincere person.

He's not always relatable. He's not always friendly. He's not always *emotionally available*, but he's sincere. He's not afraid of telling people *exactly* what happens to be on his mind and he's certainly not afraid or considerate of what other people think of him. He'd rather tell someone a hard truth than a sweet lie. Sometimes he hates this mask he wears. Gwen doesn't know the soldier underneath who has given everything and is willing to give so much more to save lives.

But today? Well...he rather likes this mask he wears. Why, you might ask? Because for some weird reason, it's given him Gwen for however long a time. It's given him her laughter. Her shy giggles. Her coy grins. Her cheeky humor.

He'll enjoy it for as long as it lasts. Yet, she asks to see the kitchen and Damian smiles at her. "Looking for a warm meal?" He knows it's likely that she just wants to know where the food / drink is if she has to leave her guest room for any reason in the middle of the night. With a soft nod, Damian starts to walk with her, tugging her gently along with their conjoined hands. Well, at least briefly, before she releases him so she might look around a little bit more. Though she's right. If she were trapped in a bedroom with him?

Well, he'd at least offer.

Yet, all the same, he leads her into a grand kitchen with some of the finest decor and utensils money could buy. It's neat - almost *too* neat - and adds to the overall air of 'we have money and you don't'. "Would you like something to drink?"