15469/One-Issue Mini-Series Vol 1, Ep 1

One-Issue Mini-Series Vol 1, Ep 1
Date of Scene:	04 August 2023
Location:	The Dark Theater of the Mind
Synopsis:	Phoebe makes a new friend?
Cast of Characters:	Jon Kent, Phoebe Beacon

---

Jon Kent has posed:
It is the middle of the night at Wayne Manor. Most of the occupants of the mansion are "at work." Perhaps Phoebe, too, might normally be out and about, but this evening she was particularly tired and decided to stay home and maybe even get a human amount of sleep for once. But then her eyes flit open suddenly. Something is near!

Thankfully, it is only Idu. He is on the floor next to the bed, though his front paws are up on the mattress. And in his mouth is one of his balls! He wants to play!

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe had a charity thing of some sort to attend in the earlier part of the day, and opted to retire from the beat early after a bad ankle sprain, something that should have drawn her in regardless. Just more complicated when you can heal it and go on -- but your bio-scans make someone send grumpy faces if you don't.

    It's Tim. Tim sends the grumpy faces.

    She startles awake, reaching for the extending staff she keeps tucked between her mattress and the box spring, and looks to the face of Idu, the white-and-red sight hound.

    "Idu?" she questions, and she gives a yawn, running her hands over the satin sleep cap and reaching out for the ball.

    "All right. We goin' to the West Lawn to play this late at night?" she questions gently, reaching up to ruffle the dog's ears.

Jon Kent has posed:
Idu releases the ball excitedly, then turns and runs. For some reason, the bedroom door is open and the dog zips out agilely.

"Hello, there, pooch," a young-sounding voice murmurs out in the hallway.

There is yelp from Idu that cuts off quickly.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Heh, Alfred's probably up--" Phoebe states, thinking she might make some tea before she takes Idu out to run off that energy, watching as he bounds off. She herself is in the satin sleeping cap, but she's wearing pajama bottoms with little Flash-family symbols, and a tank top that shows the burned-in array on her left shoulder, beneath the whorled burn scars of an old fight, and she was slipping her feet into a pair of slippers when she hears an unfamilliar voice, and the yelp from the Desher-Iwiw.

    (That's Red Dog for anyone who doesn't speak Egyptian Coptic).

    "Idu?..." she whispers, followed by "IDU?"

    And out the door she goes in pursuit of her valued pet, eyes going wide as she rapidly comes to full wakefulness, trying to sus out if anything in the mansion -- supposedly one of the most secure places -- has changed that a voice she's not familiar with would just -- show up?!

Jon Kent has posed:
As Phoebe enters the hallway, the bedroom door behind her shuts very loudly, like the report of distant thunder or a gunshot. As she looks around she sees that she is not in the hallway of Wayne Manor, but outside somehow. It looks like some sort of ruined cityscape. Some buildings are partially or wholly collapsed. The hot, dank, summer breeze pushes the smell of old smoke and crushed cinder to Phoebe's nostrils. And directly in front of her is an alley that leads into darkness.

A flash of movement in the alley shows the shadow of a dog, uncouthly portrayed upon the alley wall by the aching moon above, turning a corner into a collapsed section of wall and then out of sight.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    No longer in Wayne Manor, and in her pajamas.

    Phoebe's eyes narrow, and, slipping the ball into her pocket, the young woman breathes out to steady herself.

    'All right,' she thinks to herself, 'nothing that hasn't happened before. ONce accidentally portaled to someone's livingroom after a bad dream, should be fine --' she thinks to herself, but she puts her right hand over the dimly glowing white circle over her left wrist, hiding it in the dark.

    ... because Flash Pajamas with foil lightning bolts aren't going to reflect, right?

    She takes off after the shadow of the dog, moving on quick, quiet feet.

Jon Kent has posed:
Now comes a sobbing! It's not the cries of one who bears simple woes, but the abandoned and yearning weeping of one from whom all hope has been taken. As Phoebe rounds the corner she finds that the section of collapsed wall leads into some sort of inner courtyard, illuminated by a now bright and angry moon. The ground is covered in rubble and many sections of the walls of his courtyard are crumbled.

Lying on the ground is what appears to be a young woman, around Phoebe's age, wearing cutoff jean shorts and a Snoopy T-shirt. She is nearly motionless on the ground and her shirt is brilliantly stained in blood, which looks almost black in the moonlight. Her skin is exceptionally pale and her breathing comes in rapid, ragged patterns. Cheyne-Stokes respirations. She is near death.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Idu isn't forgotten, but there was someone who was carrying that hopeless of being so alone.

    Phoebe has always been the one to leap without looking, when someone needs help. And she can smell the blood in the air.

    Instantly, she's running tot he girl's side, her fingers already tingling with her powers, making the skin showing in the dim of the moonlight glow rose-gold if she's permitted to use her magic.

    "Easy, easy --" she breathes out, coming and skidding in on her knees in the courtyard, looking around the courtyard and making her approach.

    "My name is Phoebe." she introduces herelf simply.

    "Can you tell me where you are?" she asks -- both for orientation of the 'patient', and herself.

Jon Kent has posed:
Pale. So, so pale. The ashen, pasty appearance of the girl's skin combined with the dreadfully stained T-shirt give testament to massive blood loss. Her open eyes peer skyward, seeing nothing. But as Phoebe's potent healing magic floods through the girl's body she begins to regain some color and her breathing begins to regulate. The drain on her powers is meaningful: there was almost no blood left in this girl!

"Jay will kill you," she whispers in dread before unconsciousness mercifully takes her. She will live. For now.

A sharp scream from inside another crumbled wall section that leads from this inner courtyard to the interior of one of the surrounding buildings. It sounds like a young girl too. Even in her unconscious state, this regenerated patient of Phoebe's flinches a little at the screm.

"Shhh, shhh, it's okay. It will all be okay now." A voice. The same one from the hallway that greeted Idu.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "He'll have to try hard. Death throws me back." Phoebe replies to the girl -- and yes, it's a drain. Her power regenerates, but she feels a bit woozy as she draws the girl to the side, under the cover of a collapsed section of the wall for her recovery.

    She flinches at the scream, and the voice that greeted Idu is stuck in her ear.

     She had to get her Desher-iwiw back.

    She looks at the intricate, winding lines around her left wrist, and then goes to her feet, and she moves towards the location of the scream, and the Voice.

    Her eyes narrow, bare feet stepping carefully.

Jon Kent has posed:
Advancing through the opening in the crumbling wall is more difficult than getting into the courtyard was. It's smaller, requiring Phoebe to scooch. And there is considerably more rubble and debris, and Phoebe isn't exactly dressed for fieldwork.

The light from the furious moon doesn't penetrate in here. Darkness reigns. But as she advances deeper into the building, Phoebe can see a faint illumination ahead, flicking like some sort of flame.

A crumbled hallway leads to a room that is exposed above to the night sky. There is a 55-gallon metal drum that has a fire dancing inside it. The moonlight and the fire mix to caste an eerie pall over everything here. Including the body of a young girl -- possibly even the one who issued the scream -- and leaning over her is...a child. He is no more than 8 years old, maaaaaaaaybe a small and undernourished 10? "They get cold so quickly," the young boy says. He straightens up so he is on his knees and peers over his shoulder at Phoebe. So innocent. So angelic. A face that would make a poet weep. And that face is covered in blood, which runs down the boy's chin and neck. He wears black clothing, like one might dress in for a funeral: slacks and a button-up, long-sleeved shirt, and dress shoes. His black hair is neatly combed.

He smiles and says gently and congenially, "Hello, Phoebe."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Oh. She didn't like this.

    Phoebe moved through the tunnel and the darkness, feeling her way. ANd no, she wasn't dressed for field work. Being kidnapped from her bedroom late at night isn't exactly the best place to be prepared.

    And she waits. She feels her stomach drop as she comes to the scene, the dancing firelight and pallid moon making the sparkles on the lightning bolts dance.

    And her stomach lurches at the body of the girl. Her first thoughts drift to the kids that she knows, and she grips her hand tightly around her thumb to keep from yelling.

    And the boy is beautiful, that is for certain, but she has looked into the faces of angels and demons, and now only found that perfection chilling.

    "If you know my name then you might know who I am." she states warningly.

Jon Kent has posed:
He stands up with such fluid grace, like a linen sheet flapping on the clothes line in a summer breeze, and takes several steps back. "It's okay, Phoebe, you can save her. I promise I won't interfere," the child says with such earnestness. The boy screws up his face in thought. "If I'm honest, I don't think that I *can* interfere. I don't know everything that is or is not possible here."

He gestures to the body of the girl, gasping and hitching and barely alive. Like the last one. Like the girl who Phoebe just saved. A whisper: "It's okay. Truly."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Better question --" Phoebe states, shifting her weight. "/How/ do you know me?" she asks as she approaches, and keeps the boy at an angle, where she can watch him.

    Her hand comes up, comforting to the girl as she works.

    "I don't see vampires so young typically. And rarely so polite."

Jon Kent has posed:
A bright smile cascades across the boy's face. "Oh, Phoebe, you are so wonderful! Your observations are already proving to be a century's worth of thought-provoking entertainment." The boy slowly and non-threateningly drops down into a squatting position, sitting back on his heels. It's a position only the very young -- or the very dead -- can manage comfortably.

Like the girl outside, this one is drained of nearly all of her blood. At least Phoebe knows why this time. The healing works, though it is equally as draining as the last one.

"In here, I know *everything* and *nothing*. I have power over all but control over naught." A sad smile.

He peers at Phoebe with a very, very hopeful expression on his face as he asks, "Do you understand?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe's face scrunches in confusion as she heals.

    And, making sure the other girl's pulse has returned to normal, she comes down to confront the child.

    And she frowns at him, her dark eye snot looking into his, but somewhere about his nose.

    "You can persuade and encourage strongly, but not direct control. Flashes of inspiration on the subject which then fade into a sort of amnesia?" she questions.

    "Do you have a name?"

Jon Kent has posed:
With a sudden and startling squeal of excitement, the boy jumps up from his squatting position, his face positively *beaming*. "Phoebe, that is *precisely* correct! You are so insightful for one so young."

"My name is Jay," the boy says, more calm now. "And I brought you here, to the Dark Place of the Soul, to stop me." He clasps his hands behind his back. "Will you do that for me, Phoebe? Will you put an end to my barbaric savagery?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Jay." Phoebe states his name quietly. And she lets her eyes dart up to the sky. She doesn't show her throat. Especially not with the three, neat horizontal scars showing.

    "You brought me here to destroy you?"

Jon Kent has posed:
"So blunt and dull," Jay says in response, his tone hardening. "You're *better* than that, Phoebe. Surely you must see that here, in This Place, you cannot destroy me."

The tick from one moment to the next is how long it takes for Jay to be on her. He grabs her shirt in impossibly strong hands and bears her to the ground with impossibly strong arms. She is like a kitten in his preternaturally powerful grip. Bruises are already forming on her chest where this small boy is manhandling her like Superman. His face is so close to her's now. Does his breath smell like...mint??? "Do *better*, Phoebe. I urge you. For *your* sake."

And just like that it's over. Somehow Jay is now sitting casually on a beat-up old table in the corner of the room, looking at Phoebe with that same sweet charm. "I really do apologize. So many people think they can resist me here, fight me, win somehow. But we haven't time for those games, so I needed to show you quickly. It pains me to treat you so discourteously, Phoebe. It is my hope we can be friends."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "That's what I'm trying to f--u--" Phoebe's quickly cut off. She grabbed, slammed to the ground, her breath robbed from her for a moment and she cries out: "Exolvo mi, da mihi lumen!" and that pale circle tries to go brilliant and light up the night, her left hand forming a loose fist before Jay is off her as fast as he caught her, and she's wide-eyed, bringing herself up to a kneel.

    "You want me to put an end to your barbaric savagery. Easiest way would have been self-immolation." she coughs, and she pulls herself to her feet. She's still got the extension staff. It's like a teddy bear, she's really never slept without one nearby.

    Thanks, Tim, for the paranoia.

    "Point proven. Not much time for twenty questions then."

    She coughs. The bruises form, yellow, and fade into her dark skin.

    "What do you propose then, Jay?"

Jon Kent has posed:
Jay hisses and speeds out of the room when Phoebe's magic illuminates it. "That will cost you, girl!" Jay's voice echoes all around.

Then from back outside in the courtyard another scream of pain and terror. But this time is far more acute, more abrupt.

Again that disembodied voice. "You must free me from this place with your magic, girl. Only then, in the waking world, can you destroy me. Or you can stay here with me forever, and die over and over and over for all time. The choice is yours."

Should Phoebe head out to the courtyard again, she will find the first girl she healed, dead, her head lying several feet from her body. And up on the roof, sitting on the edge, his feet swinging like a child's feet, is Jay, looking down.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "And here I thought we were starting off on the better foot until you decided to manhandle me." Phoebe comments, and she makes her way out to the courtyard again. she's still glowing, very bright in spite of the dimness as she comes out. Her stomach drops, the first girl beheaded, and she raises her gaze to Jay as she splays her fingers.

    "I don't cut deals with Vampires. I've spent eternities in the dark." she states, and looking to Jay, her eyes narrow.

    "If I have to keep dying, well... eventually someone will come looking for me." she states. "So--"

    "Let's chat."