7416/Set it Down.

Set it Down.
Date of Scene:	17 August 2021
Location:	Bronx
Synopsis:	Nicolai and Phoebe meet, face-to-face for the first time. Kick the can and pretzels are a little spot of normal amid some strange conversation.
Cast of Characters:	Nicolai Codona, Phoebe Beacon

---

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    It's really something Nicolai doesn't make a habit of, leaving his body laying around to walk around in the astral. He can move fast over there, so he typically leaves the body at home. Tonight though, he couldn't help himself. He's in the Bronx just to pick up a custom some guitar picks he likes, but never made it to the shop.

    His living in both worlds made it impossible to not notice the extent of the damage here. He had to take a closer look. So, he did a stupid and found himself an alley and a dumpster, the latter situated such that it makes seeing him from the street difficult. No doorways from businesses open to the alley, it seemed a safe enough spot for him to pop on over for that closer look. He's only going to be gone a minute, right?

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    We all know that Phoebe messes up the 'pop on over for a minute' part. She had hopped the subway to get some fresh air, and had walked a little around the Botanical garden, but it didn't do much to lift her spirits. Something just felt off, and she couldn't put her finger on it. She scratched absently at her left wrist as she walked and almost didn't see the little snip of a shoe. A feel of something almost familiar and yet misplaced.

    Her lips purse. She should go right back. She's checked her phone and has seen no messages, and no whispers against her ear nor sudden calls from terrifyingly powerful fae for her... well. What's the worst that could happen.

    "Hey? Are you all right?" she calls out, approaching the figure hidden by the dumpster.

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    Nothing, Nicolai doesn't move. Frankly he looks a little nearer to the death side than the life side. Things are a little different with him than with others Phoebe knows that can pop the astral self. He's pale, his lips are a little blue tinted. A pulse would be found, but so faint as to be easily missed by someone not skilled in looking for one. Breaths are shallow, barely life sustainable.

    It doesn't *look* good, from the outside anyway.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe has been finding pulses since she was old enough to know what one was. She kneels down next to the blue-tinted young man, looking at him curiously as she digs her pen light from her bag.

    She's not 'broadcasting' her aura right now, that neat little white circle at her wrist was working wonderfully at keeping her hidden.

    "Hey, /hey/. Are you there? Do you know where you are?" she asks, reaching for Nicolai's hand, and she pushes her fingers down to check for a pulse at his wrist.

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    Nothing. Not so much as a muscle twitch. No visible injuries, but Nicolai is out, down for the count, possibly dying? Seriously, how long did she have to wait between beats to feel another? Too long.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Too long. Overdose. Bad asthma attack, whatever the cause --

    Phoebe breathes out, reaching down to hold Nicolai's other hand, forming a circuit, and she feeds just a little bit of the energy into him, the cool feeling of water running the wrong way and those warm tingling sensations against nerves. She had to reserve just in case...

    ... well. Just in case.

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    ...and somewhere out there, in the astral, Nicolai feels a tug. It starts off as just that, a little tug, but the longer Phoebe holds on, the stronger that tug becomes.

    Until he's *popped* right back in. Well, that's new.

    One gasp of a breath and his color's completely back to normal in a beat. He sits up, sort of scrambles back, odd glowing eyes wide. Now that he's back in there, he might feel a little familiar to Phoebe. His aura's definitely... unique.

    "What the fuck?" he stammers. Not angry, no, not that, just stunned, confused. "How'd you do that?"

    Other than wide-eyed confusion, he seems fine. More fine than someone that seemed just about dead should be after that little bit of effort from her.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Just a little tug. Someone trying to call him. A distant ring of an old fashioned tele-HELLO! He's back!

    Phoebe also steps back, surprised at the very sudden revivification. She takes a deep breath as he curses her out, and then she rubs the back of her neck as she looks at Nicolai.

    "... Haunt?" she questions in curiosity.

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    He reaches up with one hand to run it back through is messy curls, somehow they look messier and better at the same time? "Yeah, that's me..." Nicolai pushes himself to his feet and extends a hand to help Phoebe up if she accepts it.

    "Sorry, you just... startled me, that's never happened before. Never been pulled back by force."

    His eyes narrow, but not dangerously or annoyed or any of the other negative ways eyes are known to narrow, it's thoughtful. "You're one of Tim's." Yes, he knows the dude's name. It's hard to have a secret identity around someone that can see the astral you all the time. "But you're kinda... dimmer than usual, you okay?"

    His accent, more distinct this side of things, pegs him as European at the very least.

    "Name's actually Nicolai though, Nix if you prefer it."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe gives a small smile, and she accepts the hand up. She takes a breath, and moves some of her braids behind an ear. "Thanks." she gives a small smile. "Well, I've never pulled anyone back." she gives a pause "From being outside their body, I mean. Astrally. Aetherially? Is there a difference? I'm still new." she explains, and when he says she's one of Tim's.

    She gives a gentle smile. "Yeah, I'm one of Tim's." she replies gently. "I'm Phoebe. Pleasure to meet you in the flesh, Nix." she states.

    And then at the dimmer...

    "Oh. Well. Learning to keep things under control. Don't need to be a lighthouse all the time."

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    "Guess that all depends on what you believe. It's different things to different people. But ... seriously, that has *never* happened," he repeats, a little dumbfounded. "Could have come in handy a time or two though."

    Nicolai makes a broad sort of gesture with one hand. "This... is all wrong. I don't normally hide away in alleys, behind dumpsters and cross over, but... I had to get a closer look. Something's ... wrong with death."

    Just a beat and he adds along with a slightly wrinkled nose, "Speaking of dumpsters and alleys, stinks back here, wanna go somewhere else?"

    He shrugs a shoulder. "I don't know, lighthouses are invaluable to the lost, just my opinion."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Yes. Anywhere else." Phoebe states, and she motions with her head. "I was just on a walk to clear my mind... and... yeah. Death is kinda messed up right now." she states, scratching at her cheek a moment as she goes to lead the way out of the alley.

    "I know something has been killing death gods. The crows that act as guides aren't flying. There was a /valkyrie/ at a bar." she states and she titls her head back. "It has been a very, very busy week."

    And she pauses, looking back over at the curly-haired guy. "... not when they attract monsters."

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    "You hungry? Pick a place, on me, repayment for probably scaring you half to death. I shouldn't have done that. I should have rented a hotel room or something. It was just..." Nicolai was following along, but he's stopped walking now. "Killing them?"

    It still stinks back here though so he gets his feet moving again. "I knew about the crows, whole damned thing's a mess here, like someone dropped a bomb on it."

    He flinches, ducks a little like trying to dodge out of the way of something and then whips his head around behind as if watching something move off. "...and there's *that*." Of course she didn't see anything. "Everything over there around here is... not fucking nice. I'm kind of glad you pulled me back, it was getting hairy in there, feeling like it was going to be a mad dash for the meatsuit."

    Thoughful, after a moment, "I mean, yeah, I guess... but sometimes the monsters are what the lost are running from too, y'know and if the monsters can't find you, then how will the lost? Who's going to fight them and bring the lost safel home?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I'm... I'm good." Phoebe states.

    Her stomach grumbles in contrariness. Her breakfast was a pack of peanutbutter cheese crackers and an energy bar she had in her bag. She was pretty sure the energy bar was left over from a job in Madripoor. That was months ago. Good thing she's fairly resistant to food poisoning.

    "Killing them." Phoebe confirms. And she pauses, and looks back to Nicolai after his comment, and her eyes lower. "I thought that's what I was doing. Instead, I just apparently make better monsters. So... I'm under wraps, for now."
    Until the spell wears off. Until she's found again. Until another atrocity powered by ghosts tethered to rotting and burnt flesh--

    "Mad Dash for the Meatsuit sounds like a punk band."

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    "You mean you couldn't eat, *anywhere* you want. Seriously, if it's within a fifty mile radius, anywhere, you pick it. My bike's parked down the street a bit," where Nicolai left it in front of that shop. Hopefully the thing isn't gone or stripped by now in this neighborhood. "I just need to run in, grab some guitar picks from this little shop and then we take off."

    "Wait, what do you mean *make* them?" He stops then, to move around in front of Phoebe, all glowing eyes and intense but ... not unkind expression. "Look, Phoebe right? Look, hiding from your demons, no matter what they are, isn't usually the right answer." He holds up both hands and moves back to her side along with, "...that's all I'm saying on the matter." It's truly not his business, but he's never been known for minding that... his own business that is.

    "Kind of does, doesn't it? Just kind of what it feels like sometimes, just a suit. Sometimes it's easier to be rid of the thing to be honest."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I'm on call..." Phoebe trails off weakly, raising her arms up and around herself. She hasn't felt her phone vibrate. She even turned the ringer on, and all she's gotten was a robo call about her car's extended warranty... she doesn't... even own a car...

    "Little intense question for the first meet-up, isn't it?" she asks, her eyebrows rising up a moment.

    "I'm not hiding from my demons." she replies, looking up to the glowing intensity of Nix's eyes, and then she breathes out.

    "I wouldn't know. I've never been out of the Meat Suit. I don't think I've reached fifth level yet." she jokes.

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    "Life's short, ask the questions or you may never get the answers," Nicolai replies easily, it really is just that simple for him.

    Just as simply, just as easily, he offers, "I could take you." A beat and he adds, "But not here, it's..." He shivers, intentionally, melodramatically. "... bad here, really bad. It's not so bad in other places through the city, but here's not for a first-timer. ...and no hiding behind a dumpster, need a safe storage for the meatsuits if I'm taking a tourist."

    It's so casual, the way he talks about all of it. He might as well be talking about going to the beach tomorrow and asking her along.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "... my cousin wants me dead and keeps sending necromantic atrocities created from the flesh of the dead and beasts of burden that spit acid and can change their faces from one side of their bodies to the other and they've been trying to eat my friends. I'm kind of bad for everyone's health."

    And she walks on. "So I've heard. But like I said, I /can't/ see it. And I'm on call." And John would be pissed to a higher degree if he wasn't trying to breathe through tar if she was absconding to the Astral with random people.

    Even the ones that she sort of knows.

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    "That sounds heavy," Nicolai admits. He looks over his shoulder, the direction of the alley and adds, "You weren't bad for mine, back there. I wasn't kidding, it was starting to look like a rough road back. It's happened before, things getting in the way; trying to stop me from leaving, but never like that... never so many."

    ...a moment or two passes and he asks, "Did you decide on a place to eat? Is there anywhere decent around here? Since you're on call and all that," whatever that means, it's kind of implied in the way he says it. "...and if you change your mind and ever want to see, I can make it happen. There are times, certain places, that it's actually peaceful."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "It's heavy." Phoebe replies, and she looks up at Nicolai, and breathes out as she shakes her head.

    "I would like to see it, some time. In a better way. All I know is that I apparently am shiny and weird." she gives a smalls mile to Nix as she walks.

    "Really, I'm good. I wouldn't want to put you out. Almost no one who knows Tim has cash to spare." she jokes, somewhat at Tim's expense.

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    "You're not putting me out if I'm offering," Nicolai points out. "Now, if you were like, Hey, Nix, I order you to take me to get food right now and pay for it... that would be a put out. This is called an invitation, Phoebe."

    He turns around again, walking backwards, hand in the pockets of his pants, in front of Phoebe. "You're one of those kinds aren't you?" he asks. "The sort that always feels like they're putting someone else out, kind that thinks no one really just might like the company?" A beat, "You shouldn't be and there's nothing wrong with shiny and weird. ... and who's to say dull isn't weirder?"

    "As far as the heavy stuff? Best way to make it easier to carry is to set it down, if only for a little while. Like when you take a break between trips to the car to get groceries. It won't go away when you set it down, or before you make the second trip, but if you set it aside, just for a little while every day, it's lighter when you go back to it."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "That depends --" Phoebe replies, "On what kind of people you're asking about." Phoebe states in reply, and when he speaks, she just... pauses. She stares a moment at him, and she breathes out.

    "I can't. I /can't/ just put it down. It's my responsibility. I have to fix it." she states. "Seem to know a whole lot about me for this being our first face-to-face. Watch out. You're about to step in dog poop."

    She states, moving to side-step and keep walking.

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    "You're easy to read," Nicolai offers in response. He BARELY misses the dog shit, but he's pretty deft about handling the sidestep without stumbling, even walking backwards. "... It's pretty obvious when you plainly use the words 'I don't want to put you out'."

    A shrug, still backwards walking. "I never said it *wasn't* your responsibility. If a person never gets up and goes to get the second load out of the car, the food spoils. But if they take a breather, they may not have to make a third trip because they aren't so tired on the second. Setting it down doesn't mean letting it go."

    He finally drops back in beside her and says, "I've seen the dead all my life, literally, all my life. I can't turn it off, they're all around me every second. I hear them, help them when I can... makes the living really easy to read when the dead aren't always forthcoming with the why of them still being stuck this side of where they're supposed to be. When I was a just old enough to understand more, realize that some of them needed help, I tried to fix it all, all of them, all at once. I didn't end up being any good for any of them that way."

    "I had to learn to set the load down from time to time and pick it back up before I got too tired to do anything at all."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe makes the :| face. Her lips press together in a thin line, and she breathes out in a huff through her nose. She really was a pretty awful liar when she didn't have to be.

    "... ordinarily I can't turn mine off either." she states quizically, and then slips her hands into her pockets, walking a moment more until she realized she passed the subway entrance. Gah!

    Oh well. She hasn't been paged. And Nix was actually a breath of fresh air.

    "Sounds like a rough time." she states, with a little smile. "Maybe you can tell Tim he's gotta set his down on occasion, too." she speaks of their mutual friend, and then continues to walk.

    "So, what do people look like in the astral realm? Are they all fuzzy? Is there a sort of aura around everyone like Reiki practioners beleive -- or are we luminous beings in the Force?" she asks, with a little amusement, trying to push the conversation away from her.

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    "I guess, maybe. I mean I don't ever remember anything else? It's like being born deaf as apposed to *going* deaf? You may wish sometimes that you could hear, but how can you miss what you never had?"

    The next he takes a moment to consider, his steps even slow a bit, not stop, but just how a person might when thinking is taking over walking. "It... varies, really. I think everyone has their own individualized ideas about self and that's what's reflected there? I don't know though, to be honest, because I've never seen it through anyone else's eyes, so maybe it's my ideas reflected on to them? All I know is if that they died bloody and violently and don't find peace soon enough, they turn nasty, unreachable."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "... right. I suppose growing up with it, your normal would be super different to me." Phoebe replies embarrassedly, and she walks in thought.

    "How do you convince them to cross when they get lost?" she asks, turning and looking to Nix in curiosity.

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    "Sometimes it's something they need done, sometimes it's something they need to say to someone, other times it's just ... they're just afraid to go on to what's next and I have to try to make them not be so afraid. Those are the hard ones, fear of the unknown can be a real bitch."

    Nicolai kicks a can that someone missed the trash with, jogs ahead to it and turns to kick it back in Phoebe's direction. It's pretty dead on the streets after the incident with that thinning, people still gunshy, leaves a perfect field for kick the can.

    "I think, sometimes, the hardest part of that? Is that *I* don't even know what's next. It's hard to convince someone that they should do something when you're not really sure what that something will lead to. But I do what I can because it has to be better than being stuck in between."

    He sets himself up for the return kick, looking so much like he'll be seriously disappointed if she doesn't play along. "So, Phoebe, what's *your* thing? Besides glowing? What did you do back there?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe pauses a moment at the incoming can, and she brings her foot up to catch it in the arch of her sneaker, and steadily balances on one foot.

    "I used to beleive in Heaven and Hell. I grew up Catholic. "... but after meeting Gods of Death and a retired angel, eeeh..." she states, giving a small smile back to Nicolai. "It would be a grand adventure to find out."

    And then she gives a little toss up, and smacks it pretty solidly with her heel back to Nicolai.

    "Magical healing, mostly. Holy-and-Light flavored. I also can make glowsticks. If I liked crowds, I'd be /great/ at parties." she gives a wry smile.

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    "She shoots!" Nicolai calls out. It's pretty obvious that he LETS it go past him before he chases after and turns to add, "She scores!"

    He returns the kick. "I like to think that if someone's led a decent life, they go somewhere reflective of what they believe 'Heaven' to be. I can't wrap my brain around the idea of one God though."

    When she admits she's a healer, his interest is definitely a little piqued. "So far I've only been able to find one healer, a mutant, that could actually heal me. So, you're not the only one carrying around some 'weird', Miss Phoebe."

    "Glowsticks are fun at a party, unless there's acid involved, then they can get a little... whooooaaaaaa." He's probably joking right? Isn't this same, upstanding young man that just opened a community services center in Bushwick a month ago?

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I wouldn't know. Most ah... most drugs don't work on me." she admits. "Alcohol, nicotine, caffeine, my body just sort of evens them all out to zero. Which is great, except for I'm pretty dull as a person." she states as she catches the can with her other foot, then kicks it up, watches, and heel-spins to send the can towards a recycling can!

    "I like a rush of adreniline though. If my own body produces it, it's fine. I experimented with applying the artificial stuff, and my body just kinda splats it." Phoebe explains. "So like, I could name all the tendons in your hand, recite the names of all the Valar, and talk about rituals in the abstract, but not real great at parties. Probably because I'm a little uptight. And a lot of nerd."

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    "You'll have to go on a spin with me, you'd love my bike... adrenaline kicks in about a hundred, goes over the top at about one eighty, once it pushes two man, it's *insane*."

    Nicolai sounds like a little disappointed boy when he says, "Awwwww man, you dusted our can." But he's mostly kidding, mostly. He was having fun with that.

    Now that the can's gone, he heads back closer. "I don't do much other than drink anymore, smoke a little weed here and there. But I had my moments." He can't be a whole lot older, if at all, than Tim... must have started that part of his rebellion early. "Nothing wrong with nerd, but you should try to unwind the uptight. Dead people, every day, puts shit into perspective. No matter how much you believe it will be now, life is never long enough. Live it while you got it, Phoeobe."

    As they pass by a little food truck, out trying to make an evening buck, he pauses. It's a simple fair, hotdogs, sandwiches, tacos - but obviously not a specialty truck - ice cream on a stick kind of desserts, most of it common fair, likely grocery bought with jacked up prices. "You sure you're not hungry?" he asks. A beat before...

    "Would you be willing to try healing me? Just a little cut, nothing like 'OMG, he's dying' or anything. Just curious, after what happened back there."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I don't think my helmet can handle a crash at those speeds, and I like my brains right where they are, thank you." she gives a bit of a laugh at the idea of letting Nix drive her around on a souped-up bike, walking a little forward. Phoebe pauses as Nix approaches.... Dead people, every day.

    She drops her gaze. Her eyes close, and all she can see are ruined bodies, swollen from the water, covered with --

    Her left hand shakes. She raises her right hand to her left arm, her gaze still lowered "I"m sure. I know I'm going to eat when I head back home." she explains "But don't let me stop you."

    At the idea of healing him, she pauses a moment, and looks at Nicolai with a slightly disturbed expression.

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    Exactly that, every day, imagine them walking and talking or trying to. It's a wonder he's not a babbling mess in an asylum somewhere.

    Nicolai walks up to the window and orders two soft pretzels and two bottled waters. He turns to ask, "Spicy cheese or mild?" Seems he's determined she's going to eat *something* before they part ways and everyone likes soft pretzels, right? He's Romanian, non-spicy for him.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    It's amazing what the mind can do when you allow it time to process.

    "Ah, do they have caramel?" she asks, finally just letting him buy her a pretzel, and accepting a water as she gives a roll of her eyes. Not like she wouldn't be doing the same thing.

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    "Odd choice," Nicolai comments, the request is made and yes, they do... typically for dipping apples, but...

    Once they're far enough away with their food, settled on a nearby bench even, he pipes up with, "I didn't mean to upset you with the ask. Consider it a null, won't ask again." ...it's just that *nobody* in all his years has been able to 'treat' him medically, not even doctors... but one mutant healer. Curious, yes he is.

    He circles back to the motorcycle again with, "You assume I'm going to crash and burn and you're going to need a helmet'll that'll hold up or that I don't already have a spare, you know. I'm *really* not going to crash and burn. I've been riding some form of motorcycle or another since I was ten. On back roads that can't even fit two cars, seriously, one has to pull over for the other to pass... winding, hilly... in Transylvania. I can handle these mean city streets and the surrounding areas." He manages it without sounding cocky or over-confident. Just a dude that's got a handle on his own shit really.

    "I'd be more likely to wrap a car around a tree than anything on two wheels." Even then, he's decent. Adrenaline junkies unite or some such. He's been driving fast and hard since before it would have been legal here in the states.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "No, it's just, usually people don't ask for it before they're injured. So that was a bit surreal for a moment there." Phoebe admits, and she settles on the bench. "I keep some items in my bag that will make a clean cut and some bandages in case for some reason I can't." along with adreniline, lidocane... diluadad...

    "No... it's..." she frowns.

    "I might have taken you up on the ride, or even on a trip to the other side..." she trails off and rips a piece of pretzel off. She takes the salty bit of bread and dips it in the caramel.

    "I have a friend who is very, very sick, with something that I can't clear out. And I'm deathly afraid that I'm going to lose him. I've lost my dad, nearly lost my mom, given up my friends and school so that I can run around Gotham and play hero until some bad stuff happened. And then it wasn't playing hero anymore, because I had a responsibility to keep people alive." she looks over to Nicolai.

    "It's not always saving cheetah kits from burning baby carriages."

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    Nicolai starts with the important bits and moves through them in order. "Sucks, I'm sorry about your friend. I don't know how I could help, but if there's anything..." Only thing he'd be good at is helping them crossover when they ... best not to think like that.

    "I lost my father, last year," he offers, not for any more reason than to show empathy. "Serial killer he helped put away got him. That's why I came to the states, chasing my father's killer. I get it and believe me, I know it's not always kittens in baby carriages. Back home, in Romania, the criminals there called me The Moroi. I spent my nights protecting the streets. I lost someone I loved very much in an explosion at a mutant clinic. But I remember when I didn't know, when I thought maybe it would all be kits in carriages. When you see the truth, it's hard in the beginning. But you keep fighting, yes? Because it's needed. But that load, too, needs to be set down sometimes."

    Then to the healing. For someone that insisted on food, he's eating very little of his own, barely picking at it truth be told. "I... well, you're shiny, I bleed ectoplasm. I think I have the weird battle won. Anyway, most modern medicine doesn't work beyond stitches and casts, no transfusions available, no blood tests and so far, most mutant healers can't even... I've had some touch and goes, that's all. So, I'm curious."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "... well. What a coincidence. My dad was killed by a serial arsonist." she states, and offers a fist for bumping. Relative misery!

    "So... they thought you were some sort of undead vampire?" she asks, and gives a small smile. "In Gotham, part of the urban legendry around Batman is that he drinks blood." she states, and she eats another chunk of caramel pretzel.

    "... the only one who can help my friend right now is doing what they can." she states, and she gives a small sound of dissatisfaction.

    "... all right." she states, and she puts down her pretzel, and digs something out of her pack.

    "Give me your hand." she asks, holding a little plastic tab in one hand, and fancy one-handed opening an alcohol swab.

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    Fist bump happens, complete with the explosion at the end.

    "Yes, they did. It was good to let them keep thinking it, made them afraid." But even so, he sounds a little... on the sad side over people fearing him. Common that, among the creepier of the 'weird'.

    With nothing but complete trust in her, this near stranger, Nicolai opens his hand, palm up. It's already covered in tiny little scars, lots and lots of tiny little scars, but that's a story for another day. "You don't need to be gentle," he insists. "It's not the first time."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe looks at the scars, and she brushes her fingers over his palm gently, her lips pressing closed as she breathes out. THe street was still very empty, and a couple of weirdos in the Bronx weren't getting a whole lot of attention.

    She gives the tip of his finger a swab, and then with the little tab there's just the momentary pinch, a single little needle. She didn't need a lot of damage to feel the heal.

    And the less that she expends...

    And Phoebe then curls her fingers around his hand, both hands holding his, and she focuses her healing there.

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    The green 'goo' that serves as his blood oozes from the little cut at a much more slow rate than normal blood would. That's a good thing, probably takes him longer to bleed out.

    Life and Death, two opposites; but not one without the other, as is the way with most things, but particularly *those* two. It makes a kind of sense that, not only does it work, but it works quickly - almost effortlessly on Phoebe's end.

    For his part, Nicoalai's eyebrows shoot up a little, his odd eyes widen just a touch, but he manages to keep his complete and utter surprise from his voice when he says, "Huh, didn't expect that to work. That's interesting."

    He pulls his hand back and studies that single finger thoughtfully. "See, Phoebe, not a danger to everyone around you."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I've found only a few things I can't heal yet. Old wounds, broken hearts, and demonic halitosis." Phoebe states, and she gives a slight smile.

    But sadness is creeping into her eyes.

    "Stay around me long enough, and I'm sure you'll get dragged into it." she states, tucking the spent lancet into her bag instead of dropping it, followed by the alcohol pad.

    "Well. I should go and check on my friend." she states, going to stand and salutes Nix with the pretzel.

    "And if you have Tim's number, you can find me." she smiles "Thanks for the pretzel."

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    If he has questions on the latter, Nicolai holds them. He stands when she does.

    "You need remember, you can't drag the willing." Not necessarily that the willing will or would be him right now, after this one face-to-face, likely though considering the man he is and his total lack of ability to stay out of shit that's not his business.

    "You're welcome. You have a good night, need to get my picks before they close."

    With that, he heads across the street to the shop in question to fetch those picks. His prized position parked right in front with all it's bits and pieces still there. Those are the sweet moments to hold on to, the rest of it can be set down from time to time.