12314/Youth Springs Eternal

Youth Springs Eternal
Date of Scene:	06 August 2022
Location:	Sublevel 2 -Training Facilities - The Roost
Synopsis:	Hope bumps into Phoebe and Conner and gives the weirdest darkest peep speech to Phoebe
Cast of Characters:	Hope Summers, Phoebe Beacon, Conner Kent

---

Hope Summers has posed:
    It's a warm summer day yet again, as this year seems to be almost sentient in how much it desires everyone on the planet to be sweating. It's been nearly unbearable, and yet, the AC systems that are able to be run, are, and inside the basement levels of the Roost, it's fairly well stable, and almost as if it was a middle finger aimed up to the gods of heat and suffering.

    In the basement, Hope finds herself, taking up space in the hallways but outside of the training facilities doors. She's not sparing, she's not working on maintaining her aim, or her weaponry. No, today she's arming and training her mind.

    In her hand is a thickly filled manilla folder with print outs of the outsiders within. Parts have been redacted by the thick black lines on many of the pages, most even, and yet she's studying her teammates' abilities and powers. She is getting a lay of the land and a lay of the people on the land is just as important. Or so Cable would say. Know Yourself.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe's presence is an increasing rarity around the Outsiders' home base, other than her ventures to do the gardening and the occasional drop off of baked goods -- stress bakers are the best teammates. And Phoebe's always stressed.

    She was coming up from the labs level, and pauses, looking to Hope and the thick manilla folders. She tilts her head, and she steps forward, carrying an empty tuppeware container under one arm, blue-rimmed glasses on, not trying to hide her presence in any way, but she does knock on the wall as she gets closer.

    Phoebe Beacon. Balm. Magician and de-facto medical person on the Outsiders. Occasionally called up to heal Titans and JLA members, but most recently had an unannounced sabatical -- that was no secret. She posted that she got hurt while away. Explains the gauze around her neck and the lack of voice.

Conner Kent has posed:
It is too quiet. Where are the usual sounds of the Roost. The clash of blades from the gym, the gunfire from the firing ranges, accidental explosions from the labs, er... the kitchen. The kitchen has blows up more often. Marginally so.

Okay, maybe Conner is exaggerating a little. But with his enhanced senses he tends to hear more than the humm of the computer servers in the basement. Maybe there is no one. Which is odd for a Friday afternoon. Maybe they all went to the beach without telling him?

He finally hears something from the basement. So he heads there. "Hello? Who is lurking around today?" He greets.

Hope Summers has posed:
    Hope is seated on the floor, not even in a chair, just posted up with a large rifle by her side, like a lean-to against the wall next to her. A samurai is never far from their blade. A Hope is never far from her big ass gun. The young woman with her ruby hair tied back and a few stray locks framing her face looks up as she hears the knock on the wall and that draws her out of her reading.

    "Heard you the whole time." She says as she looks up and smiles softly before the gauze catches her eye and she frowns slightly, "You okay?" She asks, closing the folder and putting it against the wall as she stands up and scrutinates Phoebe much much closer, "What can I do?" She asks, before looking over her shoulder at the arrival of Conner, "Just me, and Phoebe, who I didn't know was injured." She states, turning back to face Phoebe.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    No, no, the Kitchen definitely has more blop ups than the labs. Tim has safety percautions everywhere and there's still sensors to alert Phoebe if something goes boom.

    Phoebe gives a wry smile, and she gives a small shrug -- really, is she okay? What is the value of 'okay' for Phoebe?

    But she shakes her head, and points to her neck and makes a slice motion across it. She makes a questioning look at the manilla folder in Hope's possession though, and then gives a wave to Conner.

    And then picks her phone from her pocket, pulls up her 'draw' program and writes on it 'Lo-Mag day today, you're tot. safe!' to show to the 'little' Boy Blue.

Conner Kent has posed:
Conner smiles at seeing Hope, then loses the smile at Phoebe's injures, replacing it with a sigh. "She got in a fight with a demon," explains Conner, vague on the details. "And the usual healing abilities," he moves closer to the dark-haired girl. "Still not going great?" He asks. Rather rhetorically.

"Anyway, good to see you here," he adds, changing tracks. "Are you staying for the movie session later? We have not decided what to see tonight yet."

Hope Summers has posed:
    Hope frowns, knowing that under other circumstances she could help Phoebe heal herself, or heal her for, her, but the lack of a mutation puts that outside of Hope's powerset, but she can still care. So that's what she does. "If it's bad enough, or you're not coming along at a pace that you're comofrortable with, I'll take you upstate and we'll get you fixed up in no time." Hope says, moving to put a hand on Phoebe's arm and squeeze softly. She's learning and still kind of mimicing how she thinks people would behave in some situations, like now, but she's making the effort.

    Looking back to Conner as he closes the distance and Hope takes a deep breath, "Good to be seen here." Hope retorts softly, then a flit of her eyes to Phoebe, "I wasn't aware it was movie night. I..." She pauses to think it over briefly. The words, or the future, it's hard to tell, "I might."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe gives Conner the 'wet cat' expression as he asks. It's not a big secret, but it's not exactly pleasant. Too many demons about for her taste anyway, but she looks over to Hope as the hand on her arm touches. She lowers her eyes to the hand on her arm, and then back up to Hope as she bristles a little bit.

    <It's being worked on. Last thing I want is to go Upstate again. Last time I did that I had to fight vampires.> Phoebe doodles on her phone to show it over to Hope.

    As for Movie Night, Phoebe looks vaguely unsettled with the very concept, and she shrugs on her shoulders noncomittally.

Conner Kent has posed:
Conner deflates a bit at the lack of enthusiasm. But the segment of highly focused young women in the Outsiders are always the hardest to drag into movie nights. Tough crowd. "Maybe Saturday would be better?" Half the days they have to cancel for some emergency in the three-city area, anyway.

Given Phoebe's reaction, he is not going to elaborate about the nature of her injuries. Who knows? Maybe science and mutant powers will work where magic failed. "I am going to check with the others, alright?"

Hope Summers has posed:
    "I meant Westchester, but I won't push." Hope says, removing her hand, and ending the attempt at friendly and kindness there. She does frown, it's not good to have the 'healer' down and unable to do their job. Making Hope feel like she didn't do HER job. This causes a sigh to escape Hope's lips as she is then pulled back to lighter subjects and 'easier' topics.

    A look to Conner and the red head frowns softly, not because she feels guilty, but because she knows Conner likes to spend time with people the way she simply doesn't. "Maybe, but it's hard to promise. And yeah, you go do that. I'll try my best." Which from her, means she will try, but if it's something not really helping the world or people, she likely will pick the task of saving over her own social well being.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    <Hunting unicorns tomorrow in Central Park. Promises to be bang-up time. Everyone welcome.> Phoebe types into her phone, and shows it off, her eyebrows rising up as she leans back and stretches her left shoulder a moment. <Don't anticipate too much of a crowd. So far everyone on my old mailing list from the bar is busy.>

Conner Kent has posed:
Helping the world over social well being is something all the Outsiders do often. Some are just more successful at finding trouble than others. Or maybe they are more organized at finding things to do. Hope seems to be the organized type, Phoebe just manages to find trouble. Must be magic.

Maybe she manages to find unicorns too. "Er... okay..." that kind of beats any movie. "Unicorns in Central Park seem unlikely," he has to point out. "But what do I know? I am going upstairs to check the theatre and see if we have enough icecream. See you later, maybe!"

Hope Summers has posed:
    "Good luck Conner." Hope notes as she lifts a hand towards him in parting before she lowers her eyes back to the folder and then back up to Phoebe, reads her note and then glances back to her rifle with a resolve in her eyes. "What kind of ammo does it take to down a unicorn?" Hope asks with a devilish sort of joy behind those words, hidden in her eyes.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    There's a gentle knocking, like someone tapping on the pane of a shuttered window in Hope's mind, and if she allows it, she will hear Phoebe's voice harshly whisper: <Please do not attempt to shoot the happy-fun-time-horn-horses.> before she leans against the wall and sinks down.

    <Sorry. Using magic to transfer speech this way gives both Conner and I huge migraines." she explains, looking up to Hope. <No use both of us getting sick off my stupid, right?>

Hope Summers has posed:
    Hope nods slowly and softly as she feels the response in her mind. "W-would you mind if I did it then?" Hope asks, offering her hand up to her mind, as a show that she's using a telepathy she's borrowed. "Wait..." She frowns, and taps her head again with two fingers. "Dangit." She grumbles. "Keep forgetting he's not around any more." Summers says with a frown. "If it gives you a headache, I don't want to make you hurt more, but, I understand." Hope sighs.

    "You did say hunt unicorns. Does that mean we're tracking them instead?" Hope inquires, "Still totally fun and cool, but I was kinda hoping for a trophy to carry, or at least a cool story." Hope teases faintly.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    <It's fine. I'm used to the pain. No one except Tim knows sign-language it feels like.> Phoebe recounts, closing her eyes.

    <Three unicorns escaped from some dark magic carnival ride that they were imprisoned on. They're wandering 'round New York, and because of how they crossed over everyone can see them, not just the innocent and pure at heart. I have no idea how sapient they are, but they're kidnapped creatures that got dumped. On the plus side, they might be happy for a lift home. On the bad side -- I mean, they're probably confused and in a lot of pain and might try to gore people that come along.> Phoebe recounts, and then gives a one shoulder shrug.

    <Magic.>

Hope Summers has posed:
    "Magic." Hope sighs and then bends down to pick up the folder and starts to rifle through the pages until she gets to Phoebe's page. Complete with a black and white photo of the girl before her, Hope slides her finger across the page until she finds that word. "If they're goring people and causing harm, I'd like to make sure they get home, yes, ideally, but preventing human harm is going to be my main goal." Hope notes, slightly worried about how Phoebe will take that answer, but curious as to where her team mates stands on an issue like that.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    <Magic.> Phoebe repeats, and she looks over at the dossier, and then looks up to Hope.

    <You know, you could just ask. That's hella out of date anyway.> she adds on, and she tilts her head back. <I keep updated information in my medical nodes, but they're all codified. Can't trust anyone, really. I mean, heck I turned up in Kansas after --> she pauses the thought, and forces a segue.

    <Most likely they're going to try and gore us because we're hunting them. Look at it this way -->

    She holds up her hands, and she manifests a little glowing ball, and tosses it back and forth. <If some nasty alien kidnapped you and held you captive to battery-power his gokart of doom with evil bunnies and man-eating lizards, and upon getting freed you find this big parkland where there's water and woods enough to hide in for a little while -- would you be in a rush to trust a bunch of nobodies who show up to try and wrassle you back to your original home if you had no idea what they were doing?>

Hope Summers has posed:
    "Magic." Hope repeats as if she truly understood the meaning.

    "I could ask, but I didn't see you at the time. And since you tell me these are out of date..." Hope punctuates her thought by snapping the folder closed and tucking it under her arm, "I'll have to request up to date information from the team." Meaning, homework for everyone. She can't do that. Can she?

    "But you are here now and -" The glowing ball, gives her a pause and then a look to Phoebe's eyes and a hand moving up to cup her chin in thought. "I think I see what you mean... I'll be sure to bring the tranq rounds. Extra strength." Because they are large horses. Maybe. "Maybe. ... Magic."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Hey, if you ask Phoebe about certain kinds of science *or you know, guns* she has no idea. She doesn't expect anyone to know all about magic. She didn't even know all about magic.

    <Massively out of date. This one still lists me as sixteen. That's before I even...> she pauses a moment, and she shakes her head.

    <Ordinarily I prefer to know everyone I'm working with. Sometimes magic acts weird. Like Vorpal is exposed to my magic and he emits illusions out of Fantasia with the Titans in leotards and Greek costume prancing around pastoral. I was able to heal a demon once because I was able to pull back on the 'holy' flavor of my magic. Magic's weird.> she replies, and she tilts her head back.

Hope Summers has posed:
    Hope looks like she's seeking for a pencil or a pen, but finds nothing rather quickly and gives up on that and starts to take mental notes. Her mouth mimicing the words on her mind as she repeats, 'Magic is weird.' "Wait, sixteen? Before you what?" Hope asks, digging deeper into the question Phoebe obviously didn't want to answer, but that's Hope, curious and needing to know.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    <... was kidnapped. Before this hole bloody fucking mess began.> Phoebe replies, and she leans forward, her head resting on her hands. <But it doesn't matter. Everyone else has it rougher than I did. All I was expected to do was shut up and be normal.> she frowns, and she rubs at her forehead.

    <Hope you don't wanna hear me bitch about stuff that happened. You had enough stuff go on in your own life that makes mine pale in comparrision, don't you?>

Hope Summers has posed:
    Hope tilts her head at that omission and decision by Phoebe and then squints her eyes softly, "Phoebe." Hope continues to reply verbally because, it's natural, but she continues, "Just because everyone else had it rougher than you, doesn't mean you didn't have it rough. And misery and strife is not a contest. It never was, never is, and never will be." She reaches out again, but this time is much more natural, less calculated, "I am not going to put you down for complaining and or informing me about the events that have molded and sculpted you into who you are. We're supposed to be a team, your burdens are our burdens and we all rise above together."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    <It doesn't matter, because it's over.> Phoebe explains, and the light disappears from between her hands. <And those were the fears and powers of a kid who wanted so badly to impress the leader so he'd pat her on the head and tell her what a good little hero she was.> she turns, and looks over to Hope, her dark eyes half lidded as she eyeballs the redhead. <I'm just a street fighter with a couple of good magic spells under my belt. About the only difference is I can shoot fireballs. When I could talk, anyway.>

Hope Summers has posed:
    Hope might be misreading the situation but she chooses to go ahead with it. "Do you expect that here?" Her hand retracts and she crosses her arms beneath her chest and she eyes Phoebe, wanting to know the girl and the heroine more deeply, "Now that you can't talk, what value do you have now?" Hope pushes. Just a little. Just to know and learn. She's not trying to offend, but if that happens, she'll accept that she was in the wrong.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe crosses her arms a moment and she looks dead on at Hope, and her lips purse.

    <That *was* here, Hope. And I suppose the only thing I've got going for me since I can't talk is my shining personality and absolutely fantastic ass.> she replies with a dry note to the mental voice. She takes a deep breath, and she leans her head back.

    <What was your life like before you got here?>

Hope Summers has posed:
    "I'm not going to treat you like a kid Phoebe, but I'm also not going to expect you to carry the world on your shoulders, or even a part of it. Like I said, we're a team. We're going to act like it." Hope replies, feeling like she's being harsh, and memories of Cable saying how life is never going to be easy, only easier. At best.

    "You're more than your powers Phoebe. A lot more than that." Hope explains and lowers her hands to her sides and takes a deep breath. Memories of hiding under rubble, weeks of only being able to see a dark hole where breathing was enough to get someone spotted and killed. Times where she only saw other people through heat waves in the distance, illusions of desire and hope. "It was. Necessary."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    <Better not treat me like a kid. I'll stop bringing cookies to the Roost unless I at least hold 'den mom' rank.> Phoebe replies, her head tilted back a moment.

    <I know I'm more than my powers. I'm also the cumulation of my experiences and my mistakes, and I just cause issues for everyone.> she gives a wry smile, and then a small frown.

    <I don't deserve the Outsiders. I haven't felt like part of the team since...> she taps her fingers a moment.

    <For a while now. I guess. Just sort of here if needed, like a first aid kit.>

Hope Summers has posed:
    Hope squints her eyes softly and turns sharply in the hallway. "Follow me." Hope says. Marching away from Phoebe, expecting the girl to follow her. Manilla folder still tucked under one arm, and the rifle slung over her other shoulder via the strap in a motion so smooth, it's almost like she didn't even think about it. It just happened.

    Down the hall, they pass the elevator door and instead Hope takes the stairs. Yes. She's one of those. Deal with it. She makes them walk all the way up to the dorm floor and then stops, standing outside of a familiar doorway. A door Phoebe would instantly know is hers. "What's in there?" Hope asks, standing next to the door but not opening it.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    <I think... you're maybe taking this very personally.> Phoebe states as she follows Hope up to the dormitory levels.

    Her door still said BEACON. Before she'd changed her callsign to Balm.

    <Do you want particulars? An Extra Long Twin bed with pale pink sheets and a gray pillowcase and comforter sham. A dog bed. A braided rug. A desk. An off-brand Batman and Robin of Undeterminate Identity from the carnival.> she recounts, and she leans against the doorway and crosses her arms.

    <Hope. You don't have to try and convince me of my worth. I don't know who I am, but I know what I am. And for now, that's got to be enough. It's okay.> she replies, and she opens the door to her room.

    And it's just as she described. There's a dog bed -- but no dog. The desk doesn't have anything on it, but does have a leather jacket that shows repairs -- it was a gift from Conner. There's a poster for a ballet performance. There's a couple of notebooks of PORTAL MATH done between her and Tim, and a stack of Mandala workbooks.

Hope Summers has posed:
    Hope stays outside of the dorm room as Phoebe enters, leaning against the doorframe as she looks in. "Tools and equipment stay in tool boxes and in places they belong. This is a room, this place shows your character and who you are as much as you do." Hope says. "I'm not saying you wont and shouldn't have troubles. I expect you to have them. That's life. I'm asking you to come to me, to Conner and everyone else, as you feel comfortable to help you with them. You're more than your powers, you're more than even who you are. You are important. You're important to us." Hope says, uncrossing her arms and taking a long look into the room as Phoebe steps in. Taking a deep breath Hope pushes off the frame and starts to walk back down the hallway, leaving Phoebe to think. As much as she has to think herself.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe leans back against the doorframe as Hope begins to walk away, and she watches the redhead retreat. Her dark eyes follow every footstep, studying every motion. Because it's what she's been training to do. She turns her gaze back to the room, and then pulls the door closed to walk away in the opposite direction.

    Phoebe never liked that too-familiar ache in her chest. And it was better to lay on the roof of Wayne Manor or ruminate on some rooftop in Brooklyn than it was to stay in the dorm room.

    <Just make sure that when you're down, you know they'll back you in a heartbeat.> she replies to Hope, and then closes the connection.

    She could feel the icepick of a migraine coming to that spot just above her left eye.