14214/Meeting of the Swords

Meeting of the Swords
Date of Scene:	22 February 2023
Location:	Batcave
Synopsis:	Phoebe and Damian spar, and someone gets a bit of a shock.
Cast of Characters:	Damian Wayne, Phoebe Beacon

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Damian Wayne has posed:
     Damian had a message on his door, it was a very detailed sketch of Phoebe as a pirate declaring 'SWORD ME BRUH' to which there was only one appropriate response from Damian.

  Cave, 5PM.

  Damian was waiting, wearing a sized up version of his League of Assassins gear he originally came to Gotham with. Black and white, with Donna's gift to him for his 17th birthday, an Amazonian style xiphos with a bat pattern acid etched into the blade. It was one of his very favorite swords.

  He had been getting limbered up woth his sword while waiting, taking swings, stretching out.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe arrived promptly, wearing plain, gray versions of her own armor that she uses in the field, minus any livery. Her dark hair was pulled back and set in a hair wrap to keep it from being grabbed in lieu of her normal hood. She comes bearing a ninjato in one hand, and she gives an easy smile to Damian as she gives him an up-nod with her chin. Her sword isn't so fancy, her armor more utilitarian.

    "Hey, Dams. I definitely appreciate you taking the time to work with me." she greets him warmly, looking over the xiphos.

    "Themysciran?"

Damian Wayne has posed:
     Damian placed the sword on his back, before bowing lightly. "No problem. I trust you learned some skills?" He wasn't exactly the best one to learn under, especially for a beginner, but Damian along with two other Bat Family members could tell you exactly where the flaws are and how to fix them. Blunt as the three of them were.

  "Yes, it was a gift from Troia. And quite possibly one of the only ones not in Themyscieran posession. It was an honor to receive this sword." Yeah...he was proud.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe stretches her shoulders a moment, and then she returns the bow to Damian, with a slight smile. And she speaks in the tongue of the Amazons: <A culture that balances the arts of war and peace.>, and then draws herself back up. "It /is/ an honor. I once wanted to become an Amazon, you know. I trained for a time with Cassie and Diana." she explains, and breathes out a moment.

    "I've been working on my sword skills. Slightly different than the bokken I've worked with in Aikido class."

Damian Wayne has posed:
     Damian keeps his mouth shut in terms of Cassie, specifically. But everything else he acknowledges. "There was a time I wanted nothing more than to learn their combat arts. Then I got to learn myself, another honor, at the Embassy." His words are boastful, but in the most benign sense. A listing of his accolades, things he earned and is very proud of.

  He unsheathes the sword on his back, and after some flourishes, gets ready. "Come at me at your leisure." Even though he was merely 18, he had the training of a master. His left hand remained at his side, and he maintained a stare at Phoebe, not goading, merely prepared.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "So did I. Under Diana herself, for a time. Then I had to part ways with the idea; you can't be an Amazon and have plans to kill your sister-in-arms." she gives a wry grin, and she unsheathes the ninjato, stepping into range.

    Phoebe was only scant months older than Damian, and deadly arts weren't her forte, but it's evidenced that she has some skill. She's coming in to test his defenses -- which naturally should be peerless. She's trying to poke holes in his confidence.

Damian Wayne has posed:
     Damian's sword only moved when it needed to, blocking and parrying. It was a dance between the two. She was trying to poke holes in his confidence, and he attempting to measure her capabilities.

  There was also a measure of a snake in the grass there. How many times would he see an opening and not strike?

  There was a cacophany of tinging metal, who would break first?

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe tests the defenses, she knows she's giving him ample openings -- but she's specifically going easy. They're using live weapons, after all, and Bruce *does* frown on her using her powers for training reasons.

    Metal rings through the air, singing a melee melody to the two before Phoebe presses the attack -- she goes for his shoulder, to tap it with the flat side of her sword!

Damian Wayne has posed:
     Damian's treating this like any other sparring session with his cohorts, that is to say only stopping when blood would draw. It was a fine dance he did, but with the training he's received from the League, it was easy enough for the living weapon to draw back a bit for safety and still move with the swiftness of an actual fight.

  The shoulder was left open enough. Even if he wouldn't admit it, he was leaving things open so he could judge her attacks. The sword was brought up, clashing with the broad side of Phoebe's sword. The metal on metal sang through the Batcave as Damian forced her sword away. He wasn't sure, but he was starting to see similarities in forms here, her stance, pacing. It was a bit familiar. Of course, he wouldn't say a word about it...yet.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    He may see similarities; Phoebe's usual fighting style was fluid, but defensive. She'd mastered Aikido to a high degree and altered it for use with her powers, causing as little injury as possible to wear her opponents out with 'the long game'. This was altered. She used her dodges, certainly, tried to direct Damian as they danced with steel in their hands, and her training work with Drake was obvious -- there were some foot work she'd picked up from him, and the two often paired up with investigations. That made sense.

    And then Phoebe presses the attack again, metal one metal for one, two, three strikes, and she goes in for the disarm and follow through to knock Damian back a step if she succeeds -- very much a move learned from Talia!

Damian Wayne has posed:
     Damian had been paying attention to the similarities he had seen with Drake's method. A little unorthodox, but that was by nature Tim's style. He was going to lunge when she made her move, one, two, three and BOOM! He hadn't seen it beforehand, in that exchange of glances, coming through to the disarm, his own sword clatters to the ground, and he is left on one knee, staring down the keen edge of the sword. It was like he was thirteen again, being once again bested by Talia, standing over him as Phoebe was now. His mouth agape, his eyes widened, Damian lived a number of years again in those seconds. When he finally came to, he rolled out, picking his sword back up as he approached it again.

  Then he stood, not bringing the sword to the ready, just standing there, pensively. It wasn't until a couple seconds later that he managed to say anything. "Do you know the difference between her parry and mine?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe hadn't finished with the follow through -- she actually looked surprised that she managed to do it. She'd only practiced it 438 times by herself after Talia had walked her through it a few times.

    Her dark eyes betrayed her shock that it just worked, and she withdraws, taking a breath as it sinks in that she managed to get one over Damian. And she knew it would *never* happen again.

    "You have a tendency to come in a little lower than she does? It might be because your centers of gravity are a little different. I mean, you could also follow up with a draw of a dagger from a belt. the turn of a boot to take out an ankle?" Phoebe states, and she wrinkles the bridge of her nose in thought for a moment.

    "I asked her for lessons too. There's things that Bruce can't teach me."

Damian Wayne has posed:
     "I do not disarm." Said plainly, in that oh so Damian-esque way he would wipe all emotion off his face to keep his composure. "I go in for the kill."

  He puts the sword back in its sheath, grabbing one of the water bottles set aside, along with a towel for his face. "Consider yourself lucky, you rank among the very few not in the League of Assassins with parts of our form." He snaps open the straw and draws a healthy drink. "I should have known better. There had to have been a correlation between her moving in and you asking for a sword spar." There is something unsaid there, and it specifically points to Talia and her still apparent ability to knock Damian off his guard, even with just her sword form.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Ah... yes. I specifically asked for the disarm." the mage admits quietly, "I don't think Bruce would have let me ask your mother to teach me solely how to kill. As for you--" she points out, "I've been asking for sparring since before she moved in. This time I wanted to take you off guard. Just this once." Phoebe states, going to grab the other bottle of water as she sheathes her sword.

    "I know it won't happen again, I'm just gonna ride this emotional high for a minute or two." she gives a smile to Damian, and a shrug of her shoulder. "If you want I can start slinging fireballs at you."

Damian Wayne has posed:
     Damian's sparring attire, white and black, the spiked knuckles, it wasn't what he was now. It certainly wasn't what he was aiming to be with his next suit. He hadn't planned on even carrying a sword once he put on that black and red costume.

  "There had been a reason why I did not answer before. Maybe it was I did not want to acknowledge anyone else. I long forgot the exact reason."

  He wipes sweat off his brow before adding in. "As much as he and I would deny it, I know I am my father's son, in more than just his genetic 'contribution'." That part in finger quotes. He had found out long ago the dubious nature of his being born. "He has never mentioned it to me, but I know." How would someone ever tell their kid they were a product of...untoward activities? "Somehow I just...wanted him to accept me, and that I had to mow down everyone in my way to get that to happen."

  He lets there be an awkward silence, just for a while, before adding in. "I apologize." For rambling? For what? He just lets that sit for now.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Could be worse." Phoebe points out, and she sits against the wall of the training area. She was just wearing a compression T-shirt and leggings. It didn't hide the scarring at her throat, or the burned-in arcane symbols on her left upper arm.

    "You're talking to someone who always thought she was abandoned in a liqour store and no one would actually accept her." she gives a small snort, and she leans her head back.

    "You're every inch your father's son. And your mother's. Why did you feel you had to 'mow down everyone' in the way?" she asks, her eyebrows rising up.

Damian Wayne has posed:
     "Because that was what I was taught." Damian offered. "That people would just keep getting in my way and if they were not useful, they were dead weight. I once broke my arm climbing in the alps, Ra's would not call the helicopter until I got to the summit. And if I died there, then that was it."

  "There was no other way, until I got here."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "The more I hear about Ra's the less I like him." Phoebe states with a little levity in her voice, and she looks out over the sparring room, and she purses her lips a moment, and she raises her left hand, where a pale ring encircles her left wrist, and she rests her chin on her palm.

    "But you've learned better since your arrival?" she inquires, eyebrows rising and lips pursing.

    "I'd like to think that a broken bone wouldn't stop anyone in the family. We're pretty stubborn as a group."

Damian Wayne has posed:
     "You are not the only one to say so." When it came down to it, Damian hardly ever admitted to his being a child soldier, he would talk about being an assassin. But never in a way that would emphasize the mental trauma that came with being one. "I was six, by the way." He added, just for that extra emphasis.

  "I learned there were people I could trust, and most that I could not." At least the ratio was not 0:100 anymore.

  He looked toward the cave in general, seeing the time. "Perhaps next time you can throw fireballs at Batwing." He mentioned, of course, there was no testing like real world testing.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Not in the Batcave. Bruce doesn't approve of me using magic near all the technological items." she gives a smile towards Damian, and looks over the cave as well.

    "Batwing." she repeats to herself, and then gives a nod, and picking up her own towel, she heads to go change for her patrol and she switches to Arabic.

    <Be safe out int he world, little brother.> Phoebe gives a grin, turning backwards as she walks and giving a wave to Damian.

     -- and promptly trips backwards over something, and has to tumble her way back up.

    "I'm Okay!"