10635/Kryptonian Lessons

Kryptonian Lessons
Date of Scene:	03 April 2022
Location:	Uptown - St. Martin's Island
Synopsis:	Kryptonian Lessons! Except not! Everyone can be magical, but not everyone is Magik!
Cast of Characters:	Kara Danvers, Phoebe Beacon, Illyana Rasputina

---

Kara Danvers has posed:
They're not really lessons, to tell the truth. Kara has never been much for instruction. But it's always a fun and interesting reason to get together with Phoebe, so she takes advantage of it. It's on a rooftop (because meeting on ground level is so common), and Kara carries with her some notebooks filled with the Kryptonian alphabet and her best attempts at writing them out again in a phoenetic way.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe, meanwhile, arrives coming up off an access ladder, and gives a smile as she makes an approach on the Kryptionian. She's gotten a couple of notebooks herself that she's pulling from a leather pack -- her usual investigation bag. She's got a leather strap and a webbing bracelet with little stars and spiders on it on her left wrist, and she gives a smile to Kara.

    "All right, I've been practicing for a while now --" Phoebe states, peeling back her hood and showing her bantu-knotted hair this evening, each wrapped with a blue band. "'Nimodh khap w:zrhueio!'" she grins, and also digs from a separate pocket a bag full of still-warm chocolate chip cookies from a local bakery.

    "You promised you'd tell me what it meant."

Kara Danvers has posed:
"Oh, it's nothing dramatic," Kara says with a wave of her hand, "Just a nice compliment for you."

She's been using contractions more and more lately. Her very formal way of speaking has given way to a more modern and youthful interpretation of the English language, and even her Kryptonian accent has started to fall a little by the wayside. It's a wonder what having people to converse with in English on a regular basis can do.

"You'll like it more if you work it out yourself, I think."

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
    Uptown has a low enough concentration of buildings for inadequate screening when something happens. A flash of light forms along a startup incubator's blank wall. Brown bricks above black panels tilt inward as a rectangular, continuous slab about two metres high.

    Noises leak into the confined alley, muted conversation, and over that, floating tropical music on shaking percussion and sultry Polynesian voices over instrumental riffs. Not the everyday standard for Metropolis either.

    Illyana steps out from the secret doorway to a schmoozy club serving up cocktails a la Trader Sam's. Out and down, dropping just about a metre herself, for a thumping two-footed landing. She gets up slowly from the crouch to absorb the fall and dismisses the door behind her with a handwave. Maybe dismisses the cackling iwi, that is.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Nothing dramatic? Is it about the pom-pom hair? 'Cause that would be understandable." Phoebe explains as she sits down on the rooftop and then gives a pause, the hair on the back of her neck rises up as she takes a breath, and slowly lets it out, turning about a little bit as the portal opens, and she tilts her head at the sudden sounds rippling through the air, her eyes narrowing as she hops up to her feet.

    "That... is weird..." she states quietly, but stays close to Kara. "Did you hear that?"

Kara Danvers has posed:
"Nothing so targeted," Kara adds with a shake of her head and a smile.

Phoebe's reaction gives the Kryptonian pause, and she peers curiously at the other woman for a moment. She casts her eyes out over the street, clearly examining it on more microscopic and detailed levels than any human could hope to do.

"I hear a lot of things, Phoebe. Someone is complaining about missing their train at Gotham Central Station and using a whole lot of words I didn't think were common in polite company."

She suddenly begins to float, stepping out onto thin air and looking down into the street.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
    The door shuts behind Illyana. Its brief outline lasts a few seconds until sealed off, taking the Polynesian music and languid tiki atmosphere with it. All due credence to imagining any kind of secret watering hole fades into nothing except for the cold Russian blonde with plastic rapiers stuck in her hair like barrettes. No more shaken maracas and silver drums to distract from Kryptonian conversation.

    She slouches forth into the babylonian streets of St. Martin, casting off the rude landing without any signs of it hurting her. She hooks two fingers around a loop below her hip and tugs up.

    A chance moment to check her surroundings settles over the ground, up the wall, skyward. Kara floating up there is conspicuous in ways that radio towers or satellite dishes aren't. Shading her brow lets her see a little more clearly, or it's halfway to a salute.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Gotham has a different idea of what's polite." Phoebe replies quietly, the young exorcist and healer narrowing her eyes a moment. She tilts her head a moment, and places her right hand over her left wrist, where the rattle of spiders and stars woodenly sound into the alleyway.

    "Now, interrupting a cultural exchange? That's rude." she comments with a little bit of a smile as she looks down at Illyana.

Kara Danvers has posed:
For a moment it seems as though Kara may swoop down and bring Illyana up to meet them, but she's learned her lessons about grabbing and moving people without asking first. So she continues to float there, partly haloed by the sun as her cape flutters behind her. She glances back towards Phoebe, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

"She seems familiar ... and I can definitely feel ... magic."

For all her friendship with Phoebe, Kara says that last word the way one might say 'cockroaches'. Magic, for her, is a decidedly unpleasant feeling when you spend the rest of your time insulated from the world behind the universes' most durable bubble.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
    Grabbing Illyana probably would end badly. Kara's intuition is correct. It comes off badly rather than 'hi, meet my friends!'

    "Bad things in the street?" The question pops up deadpan, harsh in the way her heavy Russian accent forms the consonants. "Or this is a happy time?" Young, insouciant, and given to the driest humour, Illyana reaches the sidewalk proper. The urge to raise her arms over her head in a stretch stops midway.

    Phoebe's smile doesn't net one in return but again, Russian. A nod comes instead. "No interesting things down here. Bus stop is that way, da?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe gives a flat sort of expression over to Kara when she says Magic in such a manner.

    "Yeah, Red Robin feels the same way most days." she states, looking up to the sky, and then looks back down to the blonde.

    "Catch the 61 if you're going into down, the 17 Express out to the Hyperloop for Out." she calls back. "You going to be all right?"

Kara Danvers has posed:
"Happy time!" Kara declares, holding her hands out at her side. She rather unceremoniously scoops Phoebe around the waist and descends to the sidewalk, planting the pair of them in front of Illyana. For some reason, the wind always seems to catch Kara's hair in a teasing and appealing way regardless of how fast it moves. Must be something about being able to step outside of gravity.

"I feel like I know you from somewhere. You're a ... magical person, yes?"

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
    Illyana commits the instructions to memory. "61. Not 23, that is the other way?"

    She flicks a finger to the opposite bus stop further up the road. Metropolis being somewhat flat limits her ability to pick out familiar landmarks. All rejoice in proper route maps at better-lit bus stops or on a phone.

    The descending women get a bit more space. She doesn't yield the kerb. Something in the way she leans back some that has the appropriate effect. "Magical person." Markedly sere that, the Atacama-dry teasing could be mistaken as no teasing at all. Her mouth curls at the corner, feline smirk and all. "I'm enchanting, da? That is what a smart-mouthed man tells me all the time. Lucky I like him."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "-wa--Ka--what--" Pheobe begins, but she's scooped up and she goes wide-eyed as she grasps Kara's shoulders, and then is brought down.

    When she's set down, she looks a little flustered, and she draws her hood back up as she gives a soft huff of breath.

    "Magical person." she states in reply, and motions to herself.

    "Not magical, just Super." she states, and motions to Kara.

Kara Danvers has posed:
"Enchanting! That works, too, I suppose. I'm Supergirl. This is my friend."

Realising half-way through that she shouldn't exactly go around introducing a friend who keeps their identity a secret. So she leaves it there. Supergirl's friend.

"We're studying Kryptonian! Well, she is. I already speak it."

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
    "Everyone can be a magical person." The wisdom of the eldritch sorceress comes plainly. "Not everyone is Magik."

    Stephen, somewhere, must be choking on his tea during meditation. The spheres come into alignment. The moon rises backwards in its orbit through the starry night. Illyana Rasputina can in fact tell jokes, a fact little known and recorded nearly no where. Just don't ask what she teaches her demon subjects to sing.

    Kara's enthusiasm is worthy of distrust. Earns that by rights, but she nods again. "You come out as Supergirl. There is no danger? Only learning? That is one way to spend a Saturday." Frosted eyes cooler than an Arctic sea survey the sky. Still not as late as it looks. Safe to say day then.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Well true. Depending on the practice, the basics can be learned in a week or so --" Phoebe begins, but the cautiously friendly black girl just gives a bit of a smile.

    "Only learning. Nice way to spend a Saturday, in fact, when one doesn't have a mind for maracas and steel drums." Phoebe smiles, and rubs the back of her neck. "But if the bus schedule was all you needed, worthy of interruption."