16222/Delving into Injuries

Delving into Injuries
Date of Scene:	31 October 2023
Location:	Basement Apartment (The Curio)
Synopsis:	Phoebe and Damian talk love lives, challenges, the heavy weight of birthrights and taking care of each other's pets if one of them dies.
Cast of Characters:	Phoebe Beacon, Damian Wayne

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Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe doesn't often bring people down to her 'study'. For one thing, it's almost always a mess, the wards are haphazard in some places, and you have to pass through a closed-down bar in order to get to it.

    Two... it's a very personal space. But Damian might have had additional questions, and she wanted to give him the opportunity to ask without Batman overhearing. After all, Batman hates magic.

    Which always made Phoebe beg silently the question of why he allowed her in.

    But she was wearing a chunky, Fall-multicolor-yarn sweater and jeans as she led a parade of Damian, Idu and Potato down a narrow set of cast iron spiral stairs and down to her study, with almost every space packed with books, bric-a-brac, and memories.

    Idu and Potato immediately assume the twin bed that's shoved against the wall.

    "So, this is literally where the magic happens, since it always feels funny practicing in the Manor." she introduces her workspace.

Damian Wayne has posed:
Damian looks around the small workspace as he comes downstairs. Since he came over incognito, he's dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and a non-descript grey hoodie as he takes off his sunglasses.

"Is the carpet red to hide the blood sacrifices?" he asks her dryly, before his fingers trace over many of the tomes and items she has on display. "You have an extensive library. It must have taken you a while to gather it. Or was it handed down from your past... sparks?" He hopes that's the right word. It should be, he has a photographic memory.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "It's to hide when I forget to grab the paper towels when trying to use my blood as a catalyst." Phoebe states casually, and she gives a grim smile back to Damian.

    And she looks over the books.

    "You're mostly right. This is what's left of the library of Iaru-Wyet, the village I was born in. Some of these books were scribed by my direct ancestors." she explains, and then she gives a small smile. "And some aren't magic. Like... this one." she plucks up a thick volume from the shelf, bound in leather.

    "This is detailing the Desher-Iwiw breeding lines and which line was best for what. Basically this is Idu's ancestry." she explains.

    "Others have magical theory but not directions. Some are about banishing, a lot of healing and medical books. And this one..." she picks up a little green book. "Is a cookbook. In case you want some Magically Delicious Egyptian food."

Damian Wayne has posed:
To be fair, Damian respects the game. And the response, even if he doesn't show any surprise about it. The young man's lips pull into a thin line that could be misinterpted as a smile.

When he is handed the first book, he opens it up and looks it over and then glances over at Idu. "I will assume that you are very particular on this." he comments to the Desher-Iwiw, "Hopefully more paticular than some humans."

He changes out the books as she offers him the cookbook, there is a flash of interest in his eyes. "When I was being trained and groomed, Grandfather insisted that I take lessons in cuisine. I have trained under Arabic and French chefs, as well as training with an Itamae, which was to help hone my knife work. I have yet to try Egyptian cuisine. I will have to look into it."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Unfortunately, the books are all in Middle Egyptian, in the handwritten form of Heiroglyphs. And some of her ancestors had AWFUL handwriting.

    "Yeah. About the time the middle of that register came about, they started a kinda... controversial tradition with arranged marriages and seeking bloodlines from other cultures." Phoebe states, and she pulls out the chair at her desk for Damian to sit down as she fiddles with an electric kettle and dumps water from a jug into it.

    "I KNOW you've had Falaffel. That started in Egypt. There's a couple of roast papyrus tuber recipies in there." she states casually, and takes a deep breath.

    "There *is* a book of the Shard, which lists by name those who have had it, which functions as sort of an ancestry registry for me. Since it's all down a particular matriarchal line."

Damian Wayne has posed:
"I have had falaffel, yes. But I have not yet prepared it." Damian points out as he gives a small chuckle. "I should have you transcribe a few recipes you would suggest." he offers to her, before she goes off on the tangent about bloodlines and marriages and matriarchy.

"Then I assume at some point in the future, the Spark will want you to have a child so that it can be passed down and it has to be a girl." There's a frown. "That must suck." He at least sounds sincere on that. "I am not even sure if I can have a child." he admits. "I am not sure if it is something that my Mother or Grandfather would have engineered into me when I was in the mechanical womb. My assumption is they would, as Grandfather would want heirs."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe considers a moment.

    "Even if they didn't, and you wanted to, you could. Artificial DNA has become a thing. Your chosen other biological donor if you wanted a half-yours-half-someone-else child isn't out of the question. *Magic* babies are also a thing." Phoebe leans back as she considers.

    "And it does suck. The 'Spark' has a vested interest in keeping me alive until a suitable heir is born, and then if I die, it will pass on to the next one in the line. Typically the youngest female decendant -- so it often went to a grand-daughter, or great-grand-daughter. And the village would help raise the person as the holder of the Spark and hone their powers until the next one in line came about." Phoebe leans back.

    "ANd let me tell you. I briefly had one of my ancestors in my head, and she marveled at the amount of men I had to choose from but was dismayed I was sort of dating a girl at the time."

Damian Wayne has posed:
"I do not want to consider the idea of either my Mother or Grandfather deciding that I need a sibling." Damian says with a small smirk. "Nobody wants that."

"That's a lot of pressure. Unless you discover immortality, then it will no longer be an issue who the 'Spark' turns to next. You can have all those voices in your head forever. Like a Matrix of Leadership."

"Except it's all horny old women looking to get you laid instead of the wisened voices and experience of the past. Toh-May-Toe, Tay-May-Tah."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "You're... likening my ancestors to being the... complete mystery of The Primes from Cybertron?" Phoebe asks, and she looks over to Damian. "Admittedly, cool, but not quite. She was only there because of..." she trails off, and then she shakes her head "I don't think your mother is interested in producing an additional Damian, not at this point. You're enough for the world, little brother." she jokes, and she pours water from the kettle into the two cups.

    Damian gets one marked 'I (not so) secretly hate the world'. Phoebe's has #1 in the #2 Business with a defunct plumbing company on it.

    "The Spark itself doesn't talk to me. At least it doesn't communicate in any way I can figure." she adds a tea pillow to Damian's. It's minty smelling and turns the water bright blue.

    "But for what it's worth, looking through the book of my foremothers, there have been two who lived for over a hundred and fifty years. But I display qualities that he others don't have recorded. It would have been nice to be able to ask someone, but y'know. Whole village was murdered."

Damian Wayne has posed:
"I do have the Covenant of Primus in my library." Damian points out and shakes his head. "Yes, I doubt even Mother would want to make that mistake again." His Grandfather on the other hand? Who knows. Perhaps it's a good thing there isn't more of his DNA out there?

Accepting the cup of water, he sniffs at it before setting it down and waiting for the selection of teas. When Phoebe chooses one for him, it draws a nod. He approves.

"I'm sure if there was need, it would find a way. Things like that tend to do it. Especially if the need was great and it involved it's own self-preservation over you." Because again, things do that. Especially mystic things.

"Then you will live longer than I, and I will not need to worry about being 'Uncle Dami'." That is said dryly, but his tone does soften. "And I will know that Goliath will be in good hands."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Nerd." Phoebe teases gently.

    "Hey, whichever of us eats it first we have to watch over our friends and animals. That's a deal. You have to contend with Potato if I die. I'll handle all yours." Phoebe gives a small smile, and she looks down.

    "... and given the state of affairs, it'd probably be /Tio Dami/. Just like /Tio Timmy/." she cracks a small smile.

    "Though we're pretty confident that without a lot of magic involved, that's not going to happen."

    Phoebe sips her own tea, and switches gears.

    "Well, the Spark has been through... two hundred and forty-ish generations that are listed. And maybe another forty to eighty before?" her nose wrinkles a moment as she maths.

    "Supposedly Heka, the god of magic, gifted it to a favored priestess at the dawn of the order. And it's been passed down through her line. My mother had it before me, her grandmother before her, so forth." she rolls a hand in the air. "It's already kept me alive through a lot of physical trauma, but if I do end up dying, Heka will probably take it back and rejoin it to The Source."

Damian Wayne has posed:
"Tim can do all the /Tio/ work. I will be the aloof uncle that still lives in the Manor house." Damian smirks slightly, but gives a slight nod in agreement of the plan to take care of the other if something happens.

"Okay. So. You're a mage. And you're carrying a mage spark inside of you with roughly two-hundred fifty generations worth of magic users and you're going to tell me that you're going to have fertility issues?"

"Forgive me if I comment that denial is more than just a state of being, but probably what your womb is going to be as fertile as when they're ready for you to have a kid." While Damian doesn't like magic, he is willing to accept that magic can be freaky-deeky when it wants to be.

"Or you could just be like me and be too spiky for anyone to want to get close to. With precious few exceptions."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "One, that would still make you the favorite uncle because you have the bigger backyard and the dragon bat." Phoebe holds a finger up, and then "Two: ... it's not an issue with /me/." Phoebe states, and she rubs her left shoulder, looking away.

    "One of the things I learned under tutilage of The Other One was that there are a lot of ways to use magic and wards. If I *wanted* to, in theory I could find a... suitable donor for the other half of the genetic material listed. RObbie was pretty sure he couldn't. State of his being, being what it is." That 'shot nineteen times and left for dead' thing. But he had also said Eli told him that. Who can trust the demonic uncle?

    "... but what kind of ethical choice is that? I'm dooming a child to be a carrier for this, or their child to be carrier. Continuing on a cycle that has just brought me a lot of pain. It's not like your father offering us the *choice* of training, to make it more likely we survive the city and the stupid stuff we set out to do. This is knowingly going through and putting an immense weight on someone who isn't even born yet." Phoebe comments quietly. "And as much as I like your mom nd value her input and advice, placing a mantle like that on a kid's shoulders isn't something I think I can do."

Damian Wayne has posed:
See. Phoebe gets it. She knows of that mantle come lodestone that is Damian's birthright. And he takes a sip of his tea, drawing his lips together to lightly break the curface and cool it with his breath.

"It's a case of you deciding what you want to do. You have made it clear that you do not really want to have a child. What happens if you do not?" he asks her curiously. "It is not if they can reinvigorte your corpse and get a child that way. Is it a cataclysmic thing?"

"Or does it just go away - lost to time and history and you worry over the guilt over the one bringing two hundred fifty generations to a close?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Like I said, in theory, Heka rejoins it to The Source, if y'know, he took it from The Source. There's also the possibility that I have distant relations and it may go to one of them. Iyaru-Wayet wasn't so closed all the time, and I'm pretty sure there are distant relatives, like, two hundred generations back or so." Phoebe breathes out in a small huff.

    "Also necromancy can do weird things. My first magical mentor was an animated flesh puppet who played house on someone else's name. It's totally plausable that someone could take my flesh or other parts and reconsitute a new me. It wouldn't even have to be very hard. And I wish I knew for sure what would happen..." she frowns.

    "My home village is protected by a shield. I have to visit so often to check on it. There is also a room where the magical shield generator object is... and that's where the incomplete souls are."

    Phoebe states, and she frowns.

    "The Ancient Egyptians, the people of Khemet, my ancestors, believe that the soul has three parts. You cannot go to the afterlife if one of the parts are missing, or damaged. It means you can't pass through the Halls of Ma'at, and your heart cannot be weighed." she explains. "So the mages, the fighters, the medjai who defended the village who were injured so badly that their spirits cannot move on -- that's where they dwell. Protecting the village even in Death."

    She sips her tea.

    "I wager if I die, that's where I'll end up.

Damian Wayne has posed:
"And there's no way to make them complete." Because Phoebe would have done that by now if there was that option. He sips his tea and reaches up to rub at the bridge of his nose as he thinks on the situation.

He decides on a different approach. "I assume Father knows of this?" he asks her. "If so, has he made a recommendation? If not, how may I assist you? You are my older sister after all."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "No. Your father hates magic and everything to do with it. He made that abundantly clear. The only reason he wanted me in the family was so he could keep an eye on me, because my self-destructive nature was having an effect on Tim. And not for lack of trying on his part... but after three adopted fathers, one dying in a fire, one being a demon in a meat suit, and one threatening to kill me when I came up with a way to spare others the pain of my own passing, kinda burnt out on the whole 'male guardian' thing." Phoebe states, and there is a creep of bitterness in her voice.

    "... you can't. That's just... not a thing that gets fixed, Damian. I broke mine by removing emotions attached to memories and trying to make myself not feel the pain." she explains. "So all I have is this, while I'm alive."

Damian Wayne has posed:
"That tracks." With his father hating magic. Damian cannot argue with that, though he frowns slightly. So much fire in her life. Nope, not going to judge. Instead, he draws in another slow slurp of tea.

"I'm not asking to fix it. I am asking you what you need me to do." he corrects her gently. "I am not one to go tilting at windmills as Father has with Gotham. I can only control what I can control. And that is the spirit in which I'm asking you."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Hey, saving Gotham isn't a Don Quixote quest, thanks. It's one I've believed in since I was four and thought your dad delivered gifts like Santa Claus." Phoebe points out, and she gives a small smile.

    "Just... listening is good. I admittedly don't have a lot of people I can talk to about it." she replies gently.

    "It's nice just to be able to talk about it with someone without them trying to logic magic into theoretical physics or reminding me that all I have are books, demonic piecemeal and what Zatanna can shake out of a hat."

Damian Wayne has posed:
And Damian is not going to have that argument, either. There's no need to talk about the escalation of force when it comes to Gotham. Batman fights villains. Villains increase. Batman brings in help. Villains adapt and get worse... it's a spiral with no real return.

"It's not that I do not believe in Father. But his tactics." And isn't that the reason she uses two IDs?

"I will be more than capable of listening, Phoebe. But I will warn you, at everyone's insistance, I have started to develop a social life which may hinder my availablity." He offers her a little smile.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Look, I'm unsurprised. Gabby can be very persuasive. She and I also pick our battles against one another, mind you, so if it's a messy break up I'm not picking sides. Also I promise I will not hex, jinx, or curse you at her insistance. Since you *are* my 'little brother'. By a whole six months."

Damian Wayne has posed:
"I would not ask you to pick sides. And if Gabby and I should break up, I would assume it amicable." Damian, he of such vast dating experiences. But it's probably fair, they do communicate pretty openly. "I suspect should you suffer your own demise of a relationship, that I would side with you. Since I do not know of this beau of yours."

A pause.

"Does he live in Canada?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe levels a Look at Damian.

    She sets her tea down, and she pulls out her phone. She opens the gallery, and thumbs through until she finds a picture, and then turns it over to Damian. It shows Phoebe, in a leather jacket, with all her piercings in. Leaning next to her is a guy with lighter, tanner skin, and tattoos on his hand. He has ear gauges in. They're leaning against a very aggressive looking muscle car.

    "He lives in the China Basin, actually." In Gotham City. "Works and hunts in New York. He's..." she trails off a moment, and she purses her lips.

    Well.

    "In a similar line of work at night. Except he's more about punishment than rehabilitation." she considers. And she looks over to Damian.

    "I know a couple of people like him. My friend Danny. There's one named Johnny Blaze. My ancestors have a couple of writings about them... they're colloquially called Ghost Riders -- but they are holders of a Spirit of Vengeance. Typically. Some real gruesome Punishment of the Wicked."

Damian Wayne has posed:
Well, it solved the case of the Phantom Boyfriend.

Except he's a Ghost.

"Very well-educated, I'm sure." comes the dry retort, before he stops himself. He takes a breath. "You two look very nice together." he tries again.

Though as she is explaining that he's a Ghost Rider, Damian files that away to research later. On a secured line. So Bruce doesn't know, because she didn't say Bruce knew and because of that, yeah. Protecting his older (by SIX MONTHS) sister.

"Though that does sound kinda awesome." he admits.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Hey. Not everyone has been given the same opportunity." Phoebe counters, "We're both lucky in that respect." she states.

    "He *is* smart. One of the reasons I didn't bring him 'round early last year is because I was concerned about him figuring out people's identities. But more than that... he's kind. In a gruff, rough-around-the-edges way. He keeps an eye on his neighborhood. He was patient while I worked out if I could be in a physical relationship after what happened to me. And he was willing to drive from New York to Gotham to pick me up outta the pouring rain." she smiles.

    "He just came back into town not too long ago, so... who knows. Maybe you'll get to meet him this time around. Austin's met him. Jason. Tim. I think you were covering patrols that night." she smiles, looking at the picture.

    "... Bruce is aware of him. And his powers. Didn't approve. So... we never asked to come by the mansion. I don't think he would, anyway."

Damian Wayne has posed:
"I meant it as a tease, I know. Though most of my training was forced on me as a child by a Grandfather that wanted me to rule Gotham through assassins and you had your entire village killed. Neither of us have had it easy." Damian points out.

"You already know I am dating Gabs." Not Gabrielle or Gabby. "And you have met her. So I have the advantage." he points out teasingly. "I will wish you both the best of luck with your relationship."

"Maybe we should have a seperate Thanksgiving, so all of us can bring our dating partners without getting judged." He smirks at that though. "Except for Dick and Stephanie."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Yeah, I wasn't aware that everyone I was related to was killed until like, two years ago. That was a shocker." Phoebe points out, "at least you knew wwhere you frorooooooomm... you called her Gabs. Must be serious if you're using pet names." she smiles, and she considers.

    "We could use the Curio's basement -- the part of it that was a bar before it had to close down." she considers. "Though normally I ah... I volunteer Thanksgiving. Soup kitchen, then patrol. It may be a surprise to you, but I always feel like the odd one out." she pauses, and then her shoulders draw up. "Robbie might be cooking for him and his brother for Thanksgiving. I should invite them, but I'd have to rush to make the way down to the basement more wheelchair-friendly."

Damian Wayne has posed:
A demure clearing of his throats. "Gabby is important to me." Damian comments on the subject. "But we are just starting on our dating." That much is admitted to, before he turns his attention to Thanksgiving.

"Perhaps something before or after, then, it is a little too late to alter plans for the day itself." he admits. "I will probably patrol that night, if Gabby is busy."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Tim, Lonnie and I used to hit up the shelter and do their lunch shift. It's nice. My dad and I -- Chuck Beacon, I mean, not the others -- we would do that in the morning and have our Thanksgiving in the evening."

    "Would you wanna meet Robbie in a casual setting or in a professional setting? Gabs knows him -- and you can call her Gabs, Dams." she gives a little smile, Phoebe picking up her tea again.

    "She's good peeps. A good person to have on your side and a very loyal friend."

    She considers a moment.

    "Could ask him if he wants to do a dinner someplace. Not too fancy though. Onion Maiden. Planted Evidence. Eatin' Eden -- those are all vegetarian places... ah..."

Damian Wayne has posed:
"Are you suggesting that we bring both of our dates and share an evening?" Damian asks, the concept of a double date completely foreign to him. But if the smile is any indication, he's seriously considering it.

"I will ask her and see if she is good with the idea. And I will respect your vegan wishes, you do not need to worry about that." Damian's cool with it. He can always grab a burger after.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Vegetarian. Still eat milk, cheese, eggs as long as I can verify that they're from happy hens." Phoebe corrects, and she wryly draws her lips into a smile.

    "Should be interesting considering Robbie and Gabby also know each other. But yeah, a double date. You bring Gabby, I bring Robbie, maybe afterwards we do Normal People stuff like walk around and *not* get into fistfights."

Damian Wayne has posed:
"Vegetarian. Right." And he's thinking on something. And then Damian suddenly asks. "Why was the chicken laughing?" he asks of Phoebe. And before she can answer, he responds. "She was a comedihen." A happy chicken joke.

"I can't guarantee no fistfights, but I will do my best to keep my temper in check. For now, though, I should get home.:

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "... ohmigod. That... that is a pretty decent joke." Phoebe cracks a small grin, and gives a nod. "I'll see you to the front door, unless you just want a portal to the back lawn." she jokes.

Damian Wayne has posed:
Pausing, Damian comes over and gives Phoebe a very quick hug. "See me out, I could use the fresh air on a walk home. Or call an Uber if I need it." A smile is offered to her. "Stay safe, Phoebe." And with that, he's heading up the stairs to see himself out.