12674/Second Story Sibling Socialization

Second Story Sibling Socialization
Date of Scene:	04 September 2022
Location:	Second Floor Landing - Wayne Manor
Synopsis:	Damian and Phoebe level up their social connection. They may never see eye-to-eye on account of their height difference, but that won't stop their respect of one another.
Cast of Characters:	Phoebe Beacon, Damian Wayne

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Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    There's just something about liminal spaces. The places that are transitions from one place to another; stairways, hallways, hotel rooms and late night busses and trains. Doorways and foyers and all places that are not places to themselves, but part of something bigger.

    Of course, it's possible that Phoebe just loves the second story landing that overlooks the ballroom because she can hide there and not really be bothered.

    Incidentally, it's also a place where she can be found when she's not hiding in her room, hidingi n the Batcave training, making herself small in one of the alcoves of the library -- it's almost as if she didn't want to step on any toes of anyone who 'properly' lives here.

    So presently, she's wearing a Supergirl headwrap in pink, with a thin long sleeve shirt and a pair of pajama pants with little cacti on them, and comfy looking slippers. For slipping around the house.

Damian Wayne has posed:
     The Family had a bunch of places they enjoyed, the landing wasn't exactly one of them, cause he took over one of the copious rooms for himself to do arts, visual and musical.

  But the 'boring' young man of the crew had donned black lounge pants and a black turtleneck, as was his custom when not venturing outside without a mask.

  His footfalls were naturally silent, even barefoot, his assassin training so engrained in him that it was his normal mode of operation. If he wasn't a vigilante that had to take immaculate care of his body, he'd probably light up a cigarette as he leaned against the railing. He wasn't exactly in his best mood but when was he really in a good mood? "So. Thank you for responding to the thing. Even if I wasn't exactly dead." His tone was plain, not devoid of emotion, just very business-focused, like a certain elder Wayne when he was in the cowl.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe looks up before Damian speaks. Since her return, she'd been working on her environmental awareness. Fortunately, she can cheat, a little. Her lips purse, and the lone legal daughter among the Waynes leans forward a little.

    -I came as medical assistance, and you were fighting a demon.- she signs, and she stretches her fingers a bit, her eyebrows rising as she keeps her neutral expression.

    -Literally two things I'm supposed to be good at.-

Damian Wayne has posed:
     Damian had a list of languages he knew, and sign was one. "And do you think that you are not?" He looked to the other Bat, and continuously analytical. "Admittedly, I had not expected Pantheon to not aim correctly." There was a slight frustration there, with a Titan that zapped him.

  "But I appreciate that the monitor actually works they way it is supposed to." It wasn't the nicest thing that he felt it was something that was more a leash than anything.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Thank goodness sign was one. Phoeb's English and Arabic were a bit rubbish due to the wounds hidden behind the gauze and wide silk choker.

    She shrugs her shoulders at the question of if she was good at both healing and fighting demons, drawing one leg up so that she can rest her elbow against it.

    -I am too. Goliath would be lost without you.- she gives a bright smile at that.

Damian Wayne has posed:
     "He would be alright. Eventually." He knew that that Bat-dragon would be more than torn up though. Even so, Damian had a view of death that was a little...unorthodox compared to the rest of the family.

  "What exactly are you doing?" He asks, looking out to the ballroom. "Recovering? Hiding in the shadow? You can say you are working on stealth, but I have watched. You're compromised...no..." He struggles to express his observation constructively. "You have a lot on your mind, I think."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe's own views on Death were problematic rather than unorthodox.

    She looks out over the ballroom, and she tilts her head back a moment. The gauze of her injured throat rises up a little, and she looks up at the ceiling, and then to the young man she jokingly referred to as her 'little brother'.

    -Compromised. Good word for a mage who cannot talk. Good word for a sister who abandons her siblings.- she signs back, and closes her eyes a moment.

    -I am trying to stay out of everyone's way. Your father's. Tim's. Yours. Do not feel like I belong. Too different. Broken.-

Damian Wayne has posed:
     Damian watched from the corner of his eye, still looking out to the ballroom, it was much easier to talk not looking at someone, at least for him. <tt> He tsks his tongue, before looking towards Phoebe. "I had no real human interaction until I was fifteen, Todd fucking -died- and came back to life. Drake...is Drake. And Pennyworth is a butler former SAS officer. This whole family isn't normal, aside from Grayson. So, and I emphasize, if you say this to anyone else, I will adamanylt deny it, we are hardly examples of perfection." That was something that took Damian a long time to admit to himself. "So, you belong."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe raises her hands, and then she lets them drop. Her shoulders sag down. She closes her eyes, drawing her face down and to the side.

    -Not a word.- she signs, and her shoulders shake. And it's clear, after a moment, that they're shaking because she's laughing.

    And then she coughs, bringing her forearm up and she turns away from Damian a moment before she gives a very unladylike grunt, and straightens herself up a moment.

    She leans back against the wall, looking to Damian with a VERY amused expression.

Damian Wayne has posed:
     Damian's almost glowingly bright green eyes look toward Phoebe when she is laughing. "What is funny?"

  "And by the way. The hood was something I had to earn. You got it just because. And Drake too. And I know I could hit him from the side if he had it up." Definitely some contempt there, only some though. If he really wanted to make a stink he would have been more verbose about it.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    -My larynx was ripped out. I can't say anything.- Phoebe signs, and she just gives a great big, toothy grin, and she pulls down the silk choker to show the gauze at her throat. It's slightly pink over a couple of spots.

    And she tilts her head to the side as she regards Damian's commentary about the hood, and she nods her head.

    -You try hiding waist-length braids under a cowl.-

Damian Wayne has posed:
     There was a moment of realization on Damian's face, and an overall nonplussed look as it came to the 'she can't say anything' part. Point conceded, non-verbally. "You know what I mean."

  A moment of contemplation passes before Damian continues "Father went soft on you there. He would have told everyone else to shave it down." Again, partial jealousy. "I jad to prove it wasn't going to block me from being able to stop someone on my side. An earned skill that took most of my life, and until you came along it was...it was something that was uniquely mine."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
Phoebe takes a deep breath, and she sits up a little straighter.

    When she uses his name, she could spell it out, but instead she makes the sign for 'Sword', with a D on it instead of an Es, looking a bit like she's scripting something in caligraphy in the air.

    -I've had a 'hood' as part of my costume before I even met Tim, or Bruce.- she signs. -Shall I tell you why?-

Damian Wayne has posed:
     Damian turns and leans on the railing, giving Phoebe his whole attention. "Very well."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    -Because I was fourteen and sewing Navy Surplus armor plates into a coat with a hood, using a dollar-store domino mask, and relied on my healing magic to make sure I didn't die.- Phoebe answers back.

Damian Wayne has posed:
     "You had armor?" Damian asks, straightening up to talk more. "Mother said that was for weak people, and that an al Ghul wasn't worthy of the name if they relied on it. So, if I broke a bone on a mission, I was expected to survive, and if not, I was not worthy of the name.

  There was a slight oneupsmanship in his voice, but also something deeper, if anyone had known him as long as Grayson had, they'd have seen it as a flavor of sadness. Even then, this kind of thing was something he couldn't tell Bruce about, for multiple reasons.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    And somehow, Phoebe suspected Bruce knew.

    -I didn't have such a name to uphold. My mo- her hands stop a moment, and she takes a breath. -She wanted me to be a Sunday school teacher. Matter of fact the first thing I did upon meeting Tim was beg him not to tell her I was caught in a gang-fight as he saw a stomach wound heal up and spit out the bullet. Very awkward- she gives a small smile up to Damian.

    -Do you wear armor now?-

Damian Wayne has posed:
     "Now, yes. And I am also not living with Mother and Grandfather."

  "Not that it matters anymore. Religion is about as useful as a flat tire in a desert." Another thing that he felt was distasteful, but then again, very few things were actually good in Damian's eyes.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    -Yeah. She was very religious.- Phoebe answers back, though there's not much emotion on her face.

    She looks to her hands a moment, and then she draws herself up.

    -Tim designed and built armor for someone whose mettle had not been tested. Your armor was designed with acknowlegement to your skills, which you have every right to be proud of. They were hard earned.-

    She stretches her arms up and over her head, pressing her jaw to stretch as well.

    -Your mother sounds terrifying.-

Damian Wayne has posed:
     "I...yes. She is." Damian offers, not too much else to say there.

  Damian stretches his arm, before settling. "I hope ypu don't have to meet her sometime. Or Grandfather."