11303/Eyestrain

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Eyestrain
Date of Scene: 23 May 2022
Location: Robinson Park - Miagani Island
Synopsis: Lydia comes upon the young mage studying alone in the dark of Robinson Park. While a storm kindly holds off as long as it can, they have a talk. Lydia proves Phoebe is still capable of feeling delight and wonder when she turns into a quartet of bats.
Cast of Characters: Phoebe Beacon, Lydia Dietrich




Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Night time in Gotham is generally not a good time to be alone.

    The summer storms have begun to roll in off the sea and land, casting a chill over the city in spite of the near-summer heat during the day, and thunder rumbles disgruntedly, like an old man roused from sleep too early.

    High up in the seats of the Forum of the 12 Caesars, Phoebe was hiding in one of the arches, her back to the marble and concrete, an old leather book sat on her thighs as she stretches her tired fingers. Two full notebooks, tattered and dog-eared, sit beside her. Her hood was up, hiding her face as she worked, a tall cup of ice coffee -- notably far more ice than it was coffee -- at her side.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    There is a golden streak in the sky as Lydia flies over Gotham on twinkling golden wings, leaving a trail of stars in her wake. She passes overhead and then pauses... reversing and passing overhead again, this time dipping down to land gracefully at Phoebe's feet.

    "Phoebe?" Lydia tentatively asks, concern in her voice. "What are you doing out here? It's going to rain any moment and you're going to get your books wet."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "They'll survive." Phoebe replies, her eyes not coming off the books. She has a little ball of her rose-gold light over one shoulder, which is what she's reading by.

    "What brings you to Gotham, Lydia? For some reason I keep thinking the city gives people the willies." the young magician starts, closing the leather bound book and drawing her tired, sunken eyes up to the vampiress.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    Lydia sits opposite Phoebe, cross-legged. She pulls her messenger bag into her lap and rummages around in it. "There's a silversmith in town that I like to go to for some of my projects," she says. "I like him because his hours are wonky and I can usually catch him at night."

    She pulls out a ring case and hands it over. Inside is a silver band shaped like a scroll that has been unwound. On one side is embossed with a passage from the Torah, while on the other side is a Hebrew prayer of healing. The lettering is tiny but clear, and is obviously the work of a master craftsman.

    "Once I enchant it," she says, "you snap it on your finger like one of those snap bracelets you'd have as a kid. I can't really heal with my magic, so I created this instead. It cures and prevents infection, eases the pain a little, helps wounds stop bleeding and speeds up healing. A little something to help when you or Jon aren't around."

    She tilts her head and gestures at Phoebe's notebooks. "What are you up to?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe lifts her eyebrows a moment, and lilts "Oh no, does Raven know?" in a joking fashion, but she accepts the case, and opens it. She very carefully does not touch it, though she examines it closely.

    "Snap bracelets? I remember hearing about those from my dad. From Chuck, I mean. Not -- you know..." she trails off, and then gives a shrug as she hands the wring case back. "Clever work-around. I like it." she comments quietly, and then she looks down at her notebooks and the leather tome in her lap.

    "Side project of mine. Batman doesn't like it when I use magic on patrol, so I've not had a lot of chance for practical work. So some theorem." she states, giving a wave of her hand. "I'm sure everyone will continue to fret like they always do."

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    Lydia takes the ring case back, and places it back in her messenger bag. "It's because we care about you, Phoebe," she says gently, unable to keep the concern in her voice. "You have a habit of pushing yourself to the limit... past that, really, and stop taking care of yourself. You've been hurt by other people enough as it is and it breaks our hearts when we see you hurt yourself."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "No. He thinks the JLD was the worst possible place for an emotionally damaged seventeen-year-old and that I had no business being in charge of it during war. So he doesn't like it when I use magic on my patrols in Gotham." she remarks quietly. "He feels that I put too much focus on it at the expense of actually living life."

    Which, you know, outside, stormy weather, reading books...

    "... no one hurts me intentionally. Things just happen." Phoebe replies in a soft voice.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    "Hm," Lydia says, mulling over what Phoebe said. She wasn't talking about Batman, really, but the miscommunication does offer some insight. "I can see where he's coming from," she says, "though I don't think I agree that masked vigilantism is exactly /living life/, at least not in the way he means it. Not any more than mystical studies is, I suspect."

    "I've found that doing stuff like this," she says patting the messenger bag, "to be meditative and a bit fun, and I suspect that you feel likewise. To me, doing what you enjoy /is/ living life. If it brings joy to your heart, and it doesn't really hurt anybody, then it's something you should pursue.

    She's silent for a bit and restrains herself from reaching out and laying a comforting hand on Phoebe. "Just because no one intends it, it doesn't mean you shouldn't feel the pain," Lydia says gently. "Your pain is valid and it's okay to hurt. If I... if I ever hurt you, or /have/ hurt you in the past, I want you to tell me. I'd want to make amends."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe draws her eyes up to Lydia, and she draws her legs down and into a cross-legged position.

    She breathes out a moment, and she lays her hands over her book.

    "I suspect the demon that we were dealing with at the meatpacking facility was the one who convinced my cousin Leksandra to murder everyone. The Other One knew her name. I just have to find it --" she states, and then she pulls up her notebooks "And then it's over. Either way it goes, it's over."

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    Lydia accepts the sudden change of subject for what it is, and nods. "What can I do to help?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Well. I could either do it the easy way, which is to ask a friend to hack though thousands and thousands of messages to find the texted components of the Name of the demon from after the Fireman's Ball last year. Or I could try out a search mandala to search all of Hell for the barest whiff of the Other One, or I could ask Papa Midnite if he happens to recall it. And seeing as I'm a nobody, he's not going to want to talk to me." she breathes out.

    "Or I could risk using the wrong name and killing everyone in a thirty mile radius, four if I'm very lucky, and just myself if The Powers That Be feel *particularly* nice that day." she states, and she looks to Lydia.

    "You were going to bring up how I got hurt before. You've never done anything to me, Lydia."

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    "Well, since you're friend with both Batman /and/ Red Robin, I think starting with the easy way first would be the way to go," Lydia says with a grin. "If anybody could find that name it'd be those two." She looks thoughtful for a moment, "The search mandala might work, but Hell is a big place. If you can narrow down /which/ part of Hell the Other One is hiding in you'd have a better chance at finding him."

    "And I wouldn't rule Papa Midnite out," she says folding her hands in her lap. "I don't know much about him, but he's a mover and a shaker in the mystical community, so he's likely to be keeping a pulse on who's who. You're a member of the JLD. Hell, you /led/ it during the invasion. You've accomplished a lot for somebody as young as you are, so I'd be surprised if he /didn't/ know who you are." She shakes her head, "but he's not the kind of person to give out information for free, so you'd need to bring something to the table that he would find desirable and, to be honest, I have /no/ idea what that might be."

    Lydia sucks on her teeth at the last option and curtly shakes her head. "No. We're not doing that one, not that I think you'd ever intend to do it."

    Her tone softens, "I wasn't, really. If you wanted to share, you would have by now, and it doesn't help if I get pushy about it. I'm glad that I haven't caused you any pain," she says. "Ever since I was turned it's hard for me to judge sometimes."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "... Papa Midnite knows who I am because the Other One went to him for help pulling Leksandra's poison out of me." Phoebe explains. "I was introduced as John Constantine's daughter. That name has weight in magical circles. Even if it's just 'death follows it'. Now I'm a nobody. Without Sandalphon's gift keeping my emotions in check? I'm volitile. Angry. Always in pain." she replies softly. "I don't have anything I can bring to the table when it comes to Midniteexcept information on other people. Or my books." she purses her lips a moment, and she looks down at the books. "Batman would want me sitting out of it. Too much personal risk. Thing already has my number. Would probably plant Red outside my door just to keep me out if it all." she gives a wry smile, and then she brings her hands up, and places her head in them.

    "I just... don't want anyone else hurt anymore. It's gone on long enough. I'm tired... so... tired."

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    Lydia scowls. "I don't think you have the luxury of sitting this one out," she says. "The demon knows who you are and already had a taste of you. I doubt that it will let you go that easily." She winces, "I... I really kind of hate that I'm advising against Batman's better judgement. I mean, he's looking out for you like we all are."

    She takes a breath so she can let it out slowly, "I know. You deserve rest. A vacation. Some time to relax and let out some stress. Hopefully once we tie up this loose end you'll get that chance."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "It's never over, Lydia." Phoebe replies, "... but, I think I found good advice in something Jon said to me. So I'm making preparations." she states, and she pulls out a playing card. Nine of Hearts. The one she picked out of a deck to work as a fake ID to get her into places. She works it, expending nervous energy as she flips it over her knuckles. A Gotham University ID. A Bus pass for NYC. A hospital surgeon's ID. A Wayne Enerprises ID. A LexCorp ID. Flipping in and out of different identities.

    "The demon knew who I was in utero, Lyds. I don't think there's a proper escape from this one."

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    "No, it really isn't is it?" Lydia says wryly. "If it's not one thing it's another for people like us." She watches curiously as Phoebe takes out the card, curious as to what she's going to do with it. When she starts flipping it through her fingers and it changes to various forms of ID, Lydia leans closer in amazement. "That's quite a trick," she says. "How does it hold up to close scrutiny? Can you change it to an ID and hand it over?"

    "Even more reason to find it and stop it," she says with a scowl. "Put the final nail in the coffin, so to speak, and be done with this ghastly business."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Here, you tell me." Phoebe gives a wry smile, and she taps the card again, and hands it over to Lydia.

    Lydia is now holding a bus pass labeled Phoebe Constantine-Chandler. It has Phoebe's face on it. It seems like it's slightly magical, in her hand, and it's for a bus line in New York City. It's definitely Phoebe's look last year, long braids, bright smile.

    "... in spite of all the danger of last summer, I always felt safe. It was the first time I had an adult who was like me. Cursed. Always running into danger. Pushing the scope of capability. I remember him offering me the spare room in Chas's apartment." she gives a sad smile.

    "Chas was under influence. He's not really the Chas I knew either. He's gone too."

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    Lydia takes the card and rubs a thumb over it, before turning it over to see it's backside. Handing it back over she says, "Somebody with mystical senses would clock it, but you'd probably have to question why somebody like that is driving a bus." She grins enthusiastically at Phoebe, "Otherwise it's really neat!"

    She gives Phoebe a sad smile. "Death... has a way of changing people. There's a /reason/ why the Tarot uses it to symbolize change." Her golden eyes slip down to study her hands. "There's always a price to be paid for coming back. I lost the things that made me human, as did Chas. Jon lost his career, and forced him into a path he didn't want to walk. Cael lost her sister a second time. I pray this never happens to you. You've lost so much as it is."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Beleive me, you find all types in New York." Phoebe offers as a joke, accepting the card back, and looking at it. Studying the name on it.

    "Everyone likes to tell me what they lost. What they sacrificed. That it's the Price you pay for knowledge. It never doesn't suck." she states, turning the card back and forth. Her bus pass. A Cityrail pass. A Backstage Pass for the Sex Pistols on tour in the 80's. A Derry, Maine, library card with a red balloon.

    "Jon rewrote part of existence. Chas is one step to the left of an Archangel. You sparkle and glow. and your wife is terrifying. Jon and Cael found each other. Chas has Asa." Phoebe flicks the card up, and then catches it in her hand. Back to being the Nine of Hearts.

    "And I hope you never have to feel that kind of pain again. Any of you."

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    Lydia actually laughs, "I sparkle. God, the irony of that. I don't mind it all that much, to be honest," she says. "Though, I /do/ miss glowing green. I had embraced it, it was part of my identity as a mutant. I was actually kind of /proud/ of it."

    "It was also a lifeline," she says contemplatively, "My mother is... controlling, to put it mildly. Growing up I was always doing what she wanted, which was rarely things that /I/ wanted. Ballet. Soccer. Things like that. I didn't have friends that she didn't approve of, so I didn't have many friends. Dad was just kind of ... there. He didn't stop any of it."

    "But when I turned fifteen, and I started glowing green, my mother was horrified." She shoots Phoebe a grin, "But I was relieved. Finally... /finally/ I had something that she couldn't control. I was a mutant and it meant my freedom. She spent a year going from doctor to doctor, specialist to specialist trying to find a cure or a way to suppress my power." She shakes her head, "She should have known better since she's a surgeon, but she was so desperate for me to be /normal/ because she didn't want her child to be looked down upon by society."

    She shrugs, holding out a hand. The stars of her ectoplasm coalesce in her palm forming a golden sparrow. It's incredibly detailed and lifelike. "Instead I embraced it. I mean, sure I got teased a lot in high school. It got to me at first, but after a while I just kind of got used to it and didn't let it bother me. When they found that they couldn't rile me up anymore, the teasing stopped. Then I started to get into activism. I marched, did community awareness programs, that sort of thing."

    She closes her hand and the sparrow dissipates into stardust. "Hey, want to see something cool? I've been wanting to show off a trick of my own."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "That's... kinda familiar. Caroline didn't like it that I wasn't the perfect daughter. Didn't like Ballet much, but man I loved the crap out of my Aikido lessons." Phoebe leans her head back. "She hated having a black daughter, because it meant dealing with black hair, black attitudes, black people -- there's a bit of a theme here." Phoebe remarks quietly, and she draws her legs up. "My dad would let me have natural hair over the summer, but hwen I was fourteen, after my dad -- my first dad -- died, I got into a pretty major fight with Caroline about it. That's when I started getting my hair braided and using the right conditioners and everything. I had to walk by myself into a braid shop and ask how to do my own hair, 'cause I'd ever tried to have 'white people' hair." she smiles.

    "When she found out about the trip to the braiding shop she was furious, but I mean, I was fourteen. I wanted to have healthy hair. An' to me that meant braids."

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    Lydia runs her hands through her own tightly curled hair. "Yeah. My hair was always a mess. Mom didn't know what to do with it half the time. And I /hated/ ballet. I was so bad at it I would throw tantrums before each lesson." She shrugs, "Anyway. Luxurious straight hair is boring. Sure, hair like mine is a pain to manage but it has character, you know?"

    She suddenly hops up onto her feet, and slides the messenger bag off her shoulder and onto the ground. "Okay. I'm going to show you this. I've been wanting to show /somebody/ for a while now."

    "Okay. Observe." She closes her eyes and shakes her hands out to relieve some of the nervous energy that she has. "Three... two... one!" *POOF!* Suddenly there's four bats fluttering around the air, each independent of each other. The bats themselves are pretty much the opposite of scary. They're rather quite cute when you look at them. Their fur is pale on the underside and a kind of rust colored on top. Their ears are huge and ridged, and they have just the cutest face.

    "Isn't this neat?" they squeak in unison. Sure, it might not be as impressive as a whole colony of bats, but you've got to start somewhere.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    No, no, that is in fact super awesome and impressive, and even aside from the obvious inclination -- Phoebe LOVES Bats.

    She sits up a bit straighter as Lydia shakes out her hands, and she raises her eyebrows her lips pursing at the count down and then -- BATS!

    Phoebe gives a squeak of delight at the sudden appearance of the adorable little bats as they flilt around, and she offers her arm out so they can grasp onto her sweatshirt.

    "Ohmigosh! OHMIGOSH! HOw are you controlling four radically different bodies at once?!" she squeaks out in amazement.

    Even when she's in the dumps, she can still appreciate agood magic trick!

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    The bats flit about for a few more moments before eventually coming to a rest on Phoebe. Two cling to her outstretched arm, one on her shoulder, and the fourth bonks into her chest and lands in her lap. Clearly her control still isn't perfect yet.

    "Practice," they all squeak at once. "You start with two," the one on her shoulder says. "Which is disorienting at first," says another. The one in her lap looks up and squeaks, "I ran into things a lot." And another, "But once I got the hang of it, I went to four."

    "It's a lot like patting your head and rubbing your tummy at the same time," a couple of them say. "After a bit of confusion it's just muscle memory." The one in her lap clambers up her shirt and just hangs from Phoebe's chest. "And then you grow an extra pair of arms."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe allows the Lydia Bats to hang from her arm, and then one on her shoulder, just chillin' -- and as the other bonks, she moves her free arm, dropping her notebooks to make sure Lydia has a place to land -- and then she's got a LydiaBat crawling up her shert. There is a sense of wonder on her face!

    "That's amazing. Do you control them like -- like a four-player screen where you can see all four at once?" she asks in wonder -- and she is trying. So. SO. Very Hard. To not pet the bat that she lifts a bit so it's on the 'platform' of her chest. "What sort of range do you have on the other parts?"

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    "It's like.... my consciousness exists in a place somewhere in the middle of it all," explains the LydiaBat on Phoebe's shoulder. "And all the sounds and sights and smells get stitched together to form a larger picture." The one on her chest looks up and squeaks, "It's okay to pet me, by the way. I can tell you want to. You'll probably never get another chance to pet a bat."

    As for the question of range they all hum thoughtfully. "Hmmm. I'd say more than five meters and less than ten at the moment." One of the ones on her arms speak up, "With practice and more bats I expect to be able to expand on that."

    "All of the bats are semi-autonomous," they say. "The biggest hurdle was just stop trying to control all of them at once and just let go and let them bat." The one on her shoulder speaks up, "I can take full control of them if I want to, though it's easier if I control just one and let the others kind of sit in my subconscious and bat."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I... think that would be so weird to pet you, Lydia." Phoebe states wryly -- as she uses two fingers and very gently strokes the Lydia-bat on her chest between the ears as she takes a deep breath, and sort of... relaxes against the back of the arch. The weight of the bats on her arm and her shoulder are distributed well, and Phoebe hasn't really had positive contact -- minus Gabby smooshing her face.

    "Definitely weird." she confirms, but gives a slight smile, her shoulder drooping a little bit before she eases off the petting, and just sort of... as the kids say these days 'vibes'.

    "... I've got a friend who works at the zoo. He sneaks me in and occasionally I get to help feed the flying foxes. Understandably, the Gotham City Zoo has an *excellent* bat display

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    The chest bat's ears flatten in delight. "Mmmm," it says, obviously having a good time. "Don't knock it until you try it. I once spent a whole evening as a wolf to let Raven cuddle and pet me." Lydia seems content to just hang on and vibe with Phoebe.

    "Oh?" they squeak, sounding interested. "I'd love to be able to sneak in with you. Sounds like a good way to spend an evening."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "... I don't think I could do that." Phoebe replies quietly. "Little bats are one thing, but the bigger something is..." Phoebe draws out a moment, and she closes her eyes. "Being touched by people still wigs me out. Don't even mention how it complicates any sort of dating. Or comforting people." Phoebe gives a smile, and then she goes to give little scritches to the other bats.

    Lydia, should she feel magic, may be able to sense the hole in Phoebe's aura is still there. It feels cold in spite of her body heat.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    "I understand," the bats say. "It's why I have to remind myself to keep my hands to myself." The one on her shoulder says, "There are times when I just want to hug you and tell you it'll be alright, but I know it wigs you out, so I try to respect your space. I wouldn't have landed on you if you hadn't invited me."

    They're silent for a while, only occasionally adjusting position to accept more scritches. Finally, they all alight off of her friend, and fly into a tight circle before kind of merging and becoming Lydia again. "Whew," she says, taking a seat. "It gets tiring if I do that for too long."

    Normally she wouldn't have been able to sense the hole in Phoebe's aura but being in bad and being in such proximity allowed her a peek into it. "You still have a hole in your heart," she states, concerned. "How is it healing?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "... it's probably a visual cue. I mean, people. I've never been hit by a bat." Phoebe states, and she just sort of slowly smiles at the stupid joke that she's made.

    As they accfept scritches, and then fly off to rejoin and become the Shape of Lydia again, Phoebe straightens up, retreiving her notebook, and looks over to Lydia with a smile. "Yeah, that's me in social gatherings anymore. I get a pass for the first couple since I'm still learning how to be proper." she remarks with a shrug, and then... she looks down.

    "... I don't think it ever will. Not all the way. It's... broken, you know?" she admits, and she worries at the notebook.

    "Like, if you suddenly lost Raven, wouldn't your heart be broken?"

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    "It would," Lydia admits, "and I would grieve. But, eventually, time would heal it. It'll leave a scar, that's for sure," she chuckles, "and it'd probably ache with the change of the weather, but in the end I'd be able to move on. I don't know how long it would take for that wound to heal, though. If it was Raven... it would be a very long time."

    "This..." Lydia starts with a scowl. "This is something I think about. I'm functionally immortal now. Unless something happens to me, I'll keep going as my friends and family pass on. Hopefully peacefully and from old age." She takes a breath and leans back, propping herself up with her hands, "Raven might be immortal, too. Her shapeshifting powers might be enough to keep her from aging. Already she's well over a hundred so..." she shrugs. "We'll see."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Mmm." Phoebe replies agreeably, in thought, and she looks up. "... I don't know if I can handle it for such a long time. Everyone leaving me. Sometimes, It hink it'd be better if--"

    Thunder rumbles a little more insistnat now.

    "I'm sure REd's worried about me. Left the house yesterday still injured. I'm sure there'll be Some Words." she remarks, standing up a little stiffly and leaning forward to crack her back.

    "I've got some prep to do. And probably have to do a week worth of patrols to make up for missing." she remarks quietly, looking out over the city. There is a pensive expression, her dark eyes as stormy as the weather rolling in, and heavy raindrops begin to creep their way into the greenery.

    "Get yourself safely home, Lyds."

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    "Alright," Lydia says, standing when Phoebe does. "You have my number if you need anything from me." She leans down to pick up her messenger bag and throws it over her shoulder. "Yeah. I should finish my errands before it gets too nasty out here."

    She takes a step back and raises a hand in goodbye. "Take care of yourself." With that golden wings unfurl from her back, and lift her into the sky.