7999/Fallout

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Fallout
Date of Scene: 17 October 2021
Location: Thompkin's Clinic - Park Row
Synopsis: When Phoebe is taken to Thompkin's Clinic to recover and keep her identity out of the news as well as provide a discreet meeting place, things get less than discrete. John Brings in an Expert to contend with the black magic. Tim stands up for the people in recovery, Lydia agrees to take point on the Thinnings for a short while. Jubilee finds out the finer points of teenage adoption after bringing the right/wrong balloons.

Next stop: The boarder of Egypt and Sudan, Village in the Reeds... to find the last person who was killed by this curse embedded now in Phoebe Beacon's shoulder.

Cast of Characters: Phoebe Beacon, Tim Drake, Jonathan Sims, Lydia Dietrich, Jubilation Lee, John Constantine




Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe has had a rough morning, but of course as she was the subject of *quite* a stir through Gotham and New York. Overnight she had crashed twice, some how her liver decided it was going to work doubletime and nearly poisoned her, the wound in her shoulder was slowly getting bigger as the necrotic venom worked its way, eating through her skin and then would get smaller, only to grow more. She was supposed to be sleeping, but she did so much better when awake that it was hard to justify sedating her so she would stop moving.

    She's currently in the hospital bed. She can't really eat anything yet, but someone went out and got her a pineapple smoothie, which she is *not* sharing. Her hair has been shaved slightly into an undercut, the rest braided and now bobby-pinned up to keep it away from new blisters Her forehead is a mess, between sharpie and blood, and she's got a light towel over her stomach to stop the hospital gown from messing up the warding on her belly. She currently is hooked up to several machines, and has a variety of IV's hanging from the bed, but she is awake. Mostly. Her eyes are sunken in, and her left arm is in a stabilizer and a sling so that it's not moved around -- the gown over the shoulder has been left loose. She is wearing a raw sapphire pendant around her neck, and has a couple pillows behind her so she can sit up.

    It does look like people have been there, or at least in and out. There's a chair that has been bodily moved over to Phoebe's side, and another chair has a blanket over it, slightly ruffled, looks like someone had been sleeping there.

    The larger, private room on the second floor is marked "PRIVATE - STAFF AND SCREENED VISITORS ONLY"

Tim Drake has posed:
    Dr. Thompkin's clinic sees a real wide variety of clientele. It's one of the few places in Gotham that has managed to last as an established no-violence zone for years now, if only because both the vigilante and villain community would turn on anyone who tried to do something about it. It's not just the place where the people who either fight crime or cause it come; it's also just a place for the poor and downtrodden to receive the best medical care available.

    As well as a few people decidely not of the poor-and-downtrodden community. The Wayne Foundation funds the place, after all, and there's an unspoken but long-held agreement between the staff and those of Bruce Wayne's brood. This is one of the few places where they can get care without details ending up in the media.

    And that, of course, extends to best friends. Tim's the one who has been occupying the chair next to Phoebe's bed, when he isn't out in the hallway on the phone making arrangements, or the 15 minute period when Lonnie stopped by with a change of clothes for him and Tim was allowed access to the staff bathrooms for a quick shower.

    Somehow that, and several cups of coffee, is enough for Tim to look almost human. He's a bit pale and there are bags under his eyes, but as he steps back inside and sits down in 'his' chair again, he's smiling. Because Phoebe is awake.

    "Alfred's going to stop by with a care package," he reports as he sips his own--not Phoebe's!--smoothie. Which he had delivered, because what's an extra 50% surcharge on top of already overpriced machine-macerated fruit? He's got that good good Wayne money.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    The Englishman apparently now dubbed "Thoth Dad" has been there the whole time, through crashes and wounds growing and shrinking and, eventually, pineapple smoothies. He paced the hall outside during surgery, praying to Thoth for his aid in the medicine he supposedly invented. He was asleep for a while, fitfully, tossing under the ruffled blanket.

    Every time a new nurse came in they got the same lecture about the sharpie markings, word for word: "If you smudge even /one millimeter/ of those drawings I will not be the one responsible for the retribution. Her father wouldn't even give you the warning. Don't touch them."

    Now he follows Tim back into the room in borrowed clothing that, despite being /definitely/ punk, somehow works. Studs, safety pins, patches, ripped fabric--it doesn't look wrong on the man who normally wears sweaters and cardigans. If anything, it almost looks like he's taken off a mask. He's got a smoothie in one hand and a coffee in the other, and is alternating sips of both. He gives Phoebe a wan smile and settles himself in the other chair. Takes a long gulp of the coffee. He's /got/ to stay awake.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Lydia's been concerned for Phoebe's health ever since she learned about her fate last night. She'd rush to go see her, but by the time she could go it was the middle of the day and she needed her sleep. Once she woke up, she gave Mystique a kiss goodbye and a brief explanation as to what's going on and took a portal right outside Thompkin's Clinic.

Coming inside, the vampiress makes her way to Phoebe's room and knocks on the door to announce her arrival. "Hi, Phoebe," she says once she's inside. "How're you holding up?" She nods to Tim, "Good to see you, Tim."

Lydia has changed since Tim saw her last. She's pale now. Very pale, and ruby red lips stand out amongst her features. But perhaps the biggest change is that her softly green glowing ectoplasm has changed. It's now fat black flakes that constantly fall around her, like so much ashfall.

Jubilation Lee has posed:
    Jubilation's jaunt through the hospital is gregarious and obvious as all hell. She's dressed in a neon pink spaghetti strap tank top that hugs her form, a pair of blue jean cutoff shorts that, frankly, are far too short for polite society, and a pair of plain white sneakers. She's not dressed for the weather even a little. Tonight's accessories include a couple of yellow snap bracelets, a mood ring, a pair of black Ray Ban sunglasses, and a raw sapphire pendant necklace. She wears her hair in a long, tight ponytail that falls past her shoulders. The look comes with pink lip gloss and a subtle, pomegranate eye shadow, though the sunglasses keep that hidden for now.

    On top of the *look*, Jubilee is dragging a massive bushel of foil balloons filled with helium, all tied with colorful ribbon, and held in a tight fist. There's a smiling sun, a rainbow linking two cartoon clouds, and a few with text: GET WELL SOON ... FEEL BETTER ... IT'S A BOY! Jubilation's other hand balances a stack of three white cardboard boxes, each tied off with a red ribbon. The balloons bounce and collide noisily with each other as she stalks through the halls. It's more of a glide, really, as Jubilation's supernatural grace suppresses the usual bobbing that happens when someone walks.

    Jubilee glides, seemingly, into Phoebe's room, though the balloons all get snagged on the doorway. Jubes frowns and wiggles the balloon ribbon a little, shaking her fist around until they burst free from the doorway and follow her into the room. "Hello, hello, beautiful people!" she announces with a smile. Anyone watching closely would see it briefly fade as Jubilation takes all of this in, Phoebe's condition, but then it returns in a more manufactured form. "How are you holding up?"

    Jubilee sets the stack of white cardboard boxes down on the table and releases the balloons, allowing them to bounce annoyingly against the ceiling. She finds a seat by leaning her rear against the arm of Jonathan's chair and glances at each person from behind her sunglasses, her gaze lingering a touch longer on Lydia. In fact, it becomes a stare.

John Constantine has posed:
    While everyone else was sitting bedside and doing the comforting that was needed, John Constantine was doing what he does best. Hunting, investigating, turning over every readily available stone for more information, more clues... just more. After he left so abruptly last night, he fired off a few texts to Chas and then he's been radio silent. A quick trip to Whitechapel for a meal and a heal and he hasn't stopped since.

    A demon summoning *The* demon, witnessed by Moon Knight, a few more stops with contacts that might have had information but really had very little and just a few hours ago, he was back in New York, at the Oblivion Bar to talk to the one last contact he figured had to be able to *something*.

    Papa Midnite might have been surprised when he told John he'd help but it meant a 'favor owed' and John readily agreed to whatever the cost may be... because John's still in the black on those books, at least another favor and a half owed *to* him.

    When John walks through the clinic doors, it's with the Voodoo Priest extraordinaire in tow. The Laughing Magician himself is anything but laughing, but when is he ever *really* laughing? His blisters are gone though and his trenchcoat is clean of scorpion blood sand goo stuff. The rest of his clothing has either been washed or traded for new, hard to tell since that's *all* he wears. Except the shoes, those had to be tossed, he's wearing a pair of boots, sturdy black work style that are at least a size too big. It's only part of why he stumbles a little coming through the door with an 'I meant to do that' recovery. Other part of it is just... tired.

    Magic doesn't cost *nothing* and he slung a lot of it about last night.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe hadn't been awake for more than an hour... well, two hours of dozed worry and questions like 'Woost woom?' and 'Jyooooon?' around the blisters in her mouth, and a comment that Tim was a much better driver than Laura. And an expression in peturbance that she wanted a hamburger, but hamburgers aren't vegetarian friendly, and she was pretty sure her stomach would rebel.

    "Oh... oh that's very kind of Alfred, but he really doesn't need to--' " Phoebe states, though there's not much conviction to it. She has no fight in her, Tim knows it. Jon knows it. Alfred is probably six blocks away waiting on an opportune moment to strike with deadly British politeness and a historical quip for Phoebe's amusement. The prayers to Thoth might have helped; might be that the Ibis has more than a passing interest in this story. She breathes out, leaning back into the pillows and closing her eyes a moment, brows knitting as something decides to go awry briefly, and then settles, and as the visitors start coming in, she tries to sit up, shifting her left shoulder. She recognizes Lydia, of course, and she gives a smile to the author. "In all honesty, Lydia --" she begins, and then pauses. She looks at Lydia, up and down, and tries to turn the wrong way and aggravates the hole in her shoulder, which makes her straighten up, with some machine giving a harsh 'BEEP' before she just... slowly... leans back against the pillows "... you look different. Did you cut your hair?" she asks, purposefully avoiding the actual question.

    When Jubillee enters, Phoebe's eyes go wide, and she shrinks back a little bit, looking as the perky younger vampire glides in with a bunch of balloons that somehwat don't apply, but a bunch of boxes which might apply, and the younger teenager just gives a slight smile to Jubilee.

    "Honestly... this kind of sucks. I forgot what it felt like to have a hole in my body that wasn't supposed to be there for more than fifteen minutes." she jokes.

    Both vampires would probably sense that Phoebe's light is severely diminished. Especially since that tattoo John put on her was turned off.

    And then The Man of the Hour walks in, and Phoebe tries to push herself up off the pillow, though her arm's shuddering with the effort as she starts off with a "D-" -- and ends with a look to Papa Midnight as he walks in following John.

    Papa Midnite, of course, Tim would recognize from a report Phoebe might have made a couple months back, a Voodoo priest who had dispatched a group -- including Phoebe, following John, adn Strix on her own account -- to India. It was a bit of a mess from there.

    Phoebe looks the man, then looks at John and asks "Is the hat possessed or is that just his face?"

Tim Drake has posed:
    Every lecture of Jonathan's got a follow-up of a "Please, we wouldn't ask if it wasn't important," said politely, with slightly less of a threat of violence and an undercurrent of 'the clinic's charitable donations will benefit from your cooperation' from Tim. And then he puts all of his detail-oriented obsessive tendencies and anxious energy to work by coordinating as much as he can from his phone, at first sat on the floor in the hallway outside of the surgery suite while Thoth Dad--sorry, Jon, they've introduced themselves to each other by this point--paced nearby, and then later while they sat at Phoebe's bedside.

    He... doesn't sleep. Because that's just what Tim does when he's worried. But he follows up on the work Cassie did on the scene after things had calmed down, with the first responders, handling the cleanup of the Hall and the quiet rug-sweeping of the whole incident.

    Who knows what the excuse will be this time. Aerosol-based hallucinogen? Something expired in the hors d'oeuvres? Extremely localized weather phenomenon? It's Gotham. Weird stuff just happens.

    Tim lets the staff and-or Jon handle most of Phoebe's immediate concerns, knowing these sorts of things are best left to the professionals (or at least someone with more mystical knowledge than Tim, whose encyclopedic knowledge of D&D spells is pretty much useless here) though he does help to talk Phoebe down from the animal protein cliff-edge she was on.

    Though he'd promised to get her a hamburger later, once she was recovered, if she really still wanted one.

    "That's just how Alfred expresses his care and concern," is all he says to Phoebe's protestations. It's not like Tim could stop the butler from doing whatever he wanted to do, should it come down to that. As if Tim would even try!

    The earlier clothing delivery definitely came with a phone charger too, and Tim now sets his phone face down on the armrest of his chair. He tucks his legs up against his chest, arms around them, and between that and the oversized hoodie he's now wearing, Tim looks diminished. On purpose, as the room soon begins to get more crowded. Ah, the wonders of being tapped into the clinic's security systems.

    He nods back at Lydia and then lifts a hand to wave at her. It's the same for Jubilation and her colorful bounty of gifts for Phoebe, which is probably why Tim isn't immediately suspicious of this person he doesn't know. She brought balloons! No, she's definitely cool.

    His shoulders hunch up a little bit, and he shares a quick glance Phoebe's way--then it redirects Jon's way--before he looks over at Constantine and his guest.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon also has a sapphire pendant around his neck. It's part of the uniform, you know? Night Brigade, raw sapphire pendant and various occult-adjacent fashion statements. He nods to Lydia as she comes in and blinks in a tolerantly amused fashion at Jubilee's balloons. "If I'm understanding correctly," he notes, "there are donuts in those boxes."

    He'd been texting people, in the car on the way and pacing around outside surgery. Sending information, giving donut preferences. Things like that. If it were up to him all three boxes would be full of chocolate donuts. Hopefully there's actually a variety.

    He halfway starts up out of his chair each time Phoebe tries to sit up, as if intending to get her to lie back and then stopping himself. The second time, as he settles back he turns to look as John comes in, and blinks briefly at Midnite before his sluggish brain provides the name and relevant details from Constantine's past. Then there's a soft 'ah' and he eyes the man warily for a moment. Then flicks his gaze to Constantine. "Did you find her?"

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Lydia returns Jubilee's stare with a cool one of her own and a quirk of the eyebrow. "So /you're/ the other one," she muses. "I didn't expect you to be quite so young." She shakes her head sadly, "I can see why John is so keen to help you. I'm Lydia. A pleasure to meet you." Lydia may seem familiar to Jubilee. She, after all, made an impassioned plea for Mystique's case when she went before Wonder Woman and her lasso of truth.

"I'm a..." she begins to answer Phoebe, but hesitates. "Let's just say that I had a death experience and got better." She gives the injured girl a gentle grin, "I'll tell you all about it after we get you patched up."

She smells John before he manages to arrive. That distinctive smell of Silk Cuts, scotch and magic is completely unmistakable and she moves further into the already crowded room to leave John and whoever his friend is some space. "Good to see you, John," she says just as he walks in. "Who's your dapper friend?"

Around her neck is not the raw ruby pendant, but one of a gold ankh with a moonstone scarab set inside it. The pendant she wears around her wrist, having refashioned it into a bracelet.

Jubilation Lee has posed:
    Jubilation's stare is unyielding, though shielded behind those dark sunglasses. "Yeah," is all she says in response to Lydia. Another wolf among the sheep? That's ordinarily not great, but there's something else at play here. She does indeed recognize Lydia for her impassioned plea for Mystique and that's...not good. Jubes stares, stares, STARES for a length of time that slips towards the uncomfortable. Finally, she pulls from it, suppressing that Dark Passenger inside her.

    Jubilee nods at Jonathan's very good guess, pulling her away from staring at Lydia. "Funny you mention it...There /are/ donuts in these boxes, but..." Jubilation thrusts her thumb towards the white board on the wall of the room that the nursing staff use to keep each other up-to-date on the girl's recovery. Her gaze returns to Phoebe, still hidden behind those sunglasses. "...I see /that/ says 'no solid food' -- bummer, I mean, yeah, but if you want me to mama bird you some donuts, I will /totally/ do it!" Her eyebrows rise as she nods, totally serious about the offer! She glances around the room and gives everyone a big, fangy grin. "...The donuts are for everyone, of course..."

    "...Except this one," Jubilee adds. She grabs the top bakery box and drops it squarely in Jonathan's lap. She peers down at him from her spot on the armrest and begins to recite its contents.

    "Chocolate frosted, chocolate glazed, chocolate cream, chocolate cake, chocolate crumb, chocolate frosted with chocolate sprinkles, chocolate frosted with /rainbow/ sprinkles, Boston cream, chocolate-dipped cruller, chocolate with coconut, chocolate frosted with almonds...." Jubilee squints and hesitates. "...Oh, what was the last one?"

    "Well, it has chocolate on it, whatever it is!" Jubes adds, shrugging a little. That leaves two dozen assorted for everyone else to share.

    John and his friend get nothing from Jubilation other than a smile, as she just frankly does not want to press her luck with him right now. Instead, she takes the first of the assorted donuts and holds the box out for Tim Drake to take from her. She won't be eating any of them, obviously.

John Constantine has posed:
    "It is, by a spirit of poor fashion choices," John replies. His tongue darts out to wet dry lips, but it doesn't work because his mouth's dry too. He catches his bottom lip between his teeth. That little head shake he always does when he's about to do something stupid or doesn't know what to say happens. He *barely* manages to keep his voice from cracking in front of all these people - that would be bad, show weakness, vulnerability and all that - when he says, "I'm sorry, love. I should have..." Killed the bitch faster.

    But he lets it drop and steps aside to say, "Midnite's going to take a look, see what he can do that I couldn't, aye? Best bloke for the job." It clearly pains him to admit that.

    Everyone else in the room gets a sort of vague, half nod except Jon, he gets a little shake of his head, "No, got some information though." ...and then Lydia, she gets, "Can I talk to you for minute, luv?" and a little nod toward the hallway.

    John Constantine and Papa Midnite, one day they're trying to kill one another, next they're sharing drinks and stories until they next want to kill one another. A little like a married couple that. He claps the taller man on the shoulder on the way out, "Do your thing, mate, see if you can fix her up some and I'll be right back so we can talk it out, see if anything anyone's seen or heard or... if anything means anything more to you than it does to me. Few of these people have been around when she's been attacked before." He stops in the doorway though and turns to say, "Hey, Elvira, it's actually a girl. Adoption went through Friday." Then he winks at Phoebe and heads out, hoping Lydia follows.

    He'll be *just* outside the door, keeping an ear on things inside.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe looks up at John. She can't talk very loudly, but she shakes her head at him, her eyes looking to him in a pleading fashion, and she reaches to set aside her Smoothie, struggling with one arm imobilized and the other just not able to reach.

    She gets a grumpy face.

    Papa Midnite gets a sort of defeated face.

    "I see that this assuredly is a child of yours, John Constantine. Seein' as this is our second meeting, I shall chalk that up to her /stress/." Midnite stresses the word as he looks to John, and then to all the assembled in the room. A couple of neophyte vampires, one of Gotham's finest young rich boys, and a ... very punk man who seems dreadfully worried. "I am Papa Midnite, and as John said, I am going to 'take a look' and 'do my thing', since this /Petty Dabbler/ can't bother to learn anything thoroughly enough to do the job /right/." Papa states, and it's clear that the two are not the best of friends.

    "Any information you can give me would be helpful, and I can listen as I work." he states, and he very gently reaches to turn down the cloth at Phoebe's shoulder, to look at the wound more clearly. He keeps one hand at Phoebe's collar bone to make sure nothing untoward is seen.

    "You, do not talk. You blistered because of someone's Demonic interferance." he mutters to Phoebe.

Tim Drake has posed:
    There's a whole lot of conversation that is flying above Tim's head right now. At least that's the kind of expression he's wearing, making a good showing of just being some random billionaire trust fund kid that happens to know Phoebe.

    Oh, but Tim is listening. That much is for certain, at least to Phoebe.

    He looks up at Jubilation when she offers him a donut from the second box--except, wait, he already has one! It's the chocolate with rainbow sprinkles from those specifically presented to Thoth Dad, and yet Tim has somehow leaned over and snatched it up. No doubt those with vampiric (or otherwise enhanced) senses actually saw him to do, but he's sneaky.

    And then he takes a strawberry-frosted (no sprinkles) donut from the box offered to him. Dual-wielding donuts, aww yeah.

    That's about the extent of his contribution to everything going on in here right now. He takes a bite of one donut and then the other, chewing silently as he watches on while Papa Midnite does... well, Tim's not sure what he's doing.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon blinks at the box of donuts dropped in his lap. Just stares at it for a long moment, then looks up at Jubilee, his eyes /very/ large behind those glasses. "Umm. Thank you, Jubilation. That's... very kind of you." An entire box of donuts? Because of a text conversation he'd had while exhausted and pacing the floor while Phoebe was in surgery? She remembered, thought of him. It touches something down inside the Archivist he didn't even know he needed. He actually manages a smile, then opens the box and--/how is there already a donut missing?!/

    He /glares/ at Tim. /Glares/. It has no heat. Finally, with aplomb, "You get that one for free for saving my life last night." Something's subtly shifted in Jon's attitude over the course of the night, not least that he appears to be taking 'I almost died last night' in stride and has increased confidence in general.

    He pulls the chocolate-with-normal-sprinkles out of the box (he was rainbow brigade before you were /born/ Tim) and calls to Jon, "Get a nurse to get you some water, mate."

    Then he focuses on Papa Midnite. "Ask a question, and I will answer if I can," he says. "I don't know if you're aware of my predecessors, but information is the Archivist's forte. If what you need is general information... perhaps it's best if the others speak first, before I start monologuing."

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Lydia doesn't seem all that perturbed by Jubilation's stare, though she does note the growing hostility of it. Best to be careful with this one to not set her off. Her attention, instead is turned towards Papa Midnite, and gives him a deferential nod. This one looks like he knows what he's doing.

John's summons get an "Of course," from the woman. She lingers a moment to watch Midnite start to work on the poor girl, and she has to swallow anger of her own. Whoever did this must pay.

She follows John to just outside the doors, but not before snagging a plain glazed old fashioned from the box. She takes a bite out of the donut and savors the flavor before talking to him in a low voice so others wouldn't be able to hear, "What's up?"

John Constantine has posed:
    Once Lydia is out there with him, John lowers his voice. It's not so low that it *can't* be overheard if someone tried, he just wanted out of Midnite's way before he got fed up and set fire to that horrible fashion statement hat.

    "I need you to do something for me luv." Oh that hurt. Pigs are flying and John's fine when he dies because Hell has frozen over. "... take point on these Thinnings for me." He looks back toward the room. "I have to... this is... I have to focus on this." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his cell phone. "Gimme your phone, aye?"

    While he's waiting for her to pull out said phone, he continues. "That demon, the one I made the deal with? I summoned him again, his part of the deal wasn't finished in regards to this situation. I got a name and I need to put everything I have into researching that name, the name of the demon that's feeding Phoebe's bitch cousin power. So I can summon her and we can destroy her. Doing that leaves the bitch vulnerable."

Jubilation Lee has posed:
    Yeah, Jubilation saw the donut heist and, perhaps, she could have reached out with blurry vampire speed and grabbed Tim's wrist, but that doesn't happen. Instead, her mouth twitches, opening just a little. A faint hissing sound can be heard, briefly, before she closes her mouth entirely. It's an exercise in control and, to her credit, she's killing it.

    "Huh?" Jubilation mutters, tilting her head towards John when he says 'Elvira.' The single word is enough to pull her out of her private moment with the donut heist. She fails to make the connection to the incorrect balloon she brought and then, ughh, rolls her eyes at herself for even responding to that name. After a moment's consideration, Jubes looks down at her chest, considers the Elvira comment, and then uses both hands to make a little adjustment.

    "Oh, no problem, Jon-Without-An-H!" she chirps, grinning a little as she does. Jubilation either can't retract her fangs, forgot how, or doesn't care to hide them. When Papa Midnite starts talking, Jubes stares at him, quietly taking it all in, trying to make sense of all of it. She can't. So, she participates the only way she knows how.

    "Is Papa, like, your first name?" Jubilation wonders, leaning forward to try and get a better look at Phoebe's shoulder when the cloth is moved. "Or..."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I am aware that you are an Archivist. Or the Archivist. I am also aware that this girl is the last of her village of natural-born exorcists, healers, and oracles from a unique bloodline, if John is to be believed." he states, examining the wound. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a clean, white hankerchief, and removes the dressing around the wound as he investigates.

    "Given his record as a con-man, I would give it fifty-fifty." he gives a dirisve snort. Phoebe turns her head away from the wound, not wanting to look at it. She looks EXTREMELY uncomfortable with everything.

    "Papa is my title. Like calling a Priest 'Father'. Midnite is my name." he states, "You are too close to the dark magic. Too much closer an' you'll have a muzzle full of cursed blood and probably a very cross Constantine. This girl," he states with his thick accent, "Has had some powerful black magic cast at her and inside her. This poison is something I have not encountered for quite some time." he gives a hum, pulling back the hankerchiff and sniffling the blood a moment.

    He then pulls Phoebe's chin down, and looks into her mouth, seeing all the pustules. His lip curls in a slight sneer, and then he turns to the room.

    "So. This is the work of the woman necromancer, the betrayer, yes?" he questions.

Tim Drake has posed:
    To counter all the glaring Jon does at him, Tim only widens his eyes slightly and raises his eyebrows. He's still chewing as he aims a faux-innocent, 'Who, me?' sort of look over at Thoth Dad.

    It's all an act. He doesn't have anything to add to the conversation but he can sit here and take in everything that everyone else has to say. The news of Phoebe's heritage--50/50 chance of it being true or not--makes Tim's chin lower, subtly, the only indication any of this information is being absorbed.

    And to Tim's credit, he's an excellent performer. Though when Jubilee hisses, she and anyone else with enhanced senses will have been able to hear a momentary uptake of his heartbeat before it evened out into something deeply slow and steady. He's definitely watching her out of his peripheral vision now, even if it doesn't really look like he is.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "It is," Jon says. "She attacked the Gotham Fireman's Ball."

    And then the Archivist launches into a monologue, describing the events of the night before. The magical hot spots, the temperature drops, the bottles and poppets. The scarab that burst from what might have been the body of Mickey Rogers, with its trapped souls, destroyed by the joint wrath of Osiris and Zeus. The scorpion made of sand, screaming with Mickey Rogers' heads, screaming for Phoebe to save him in the voices of people she loved. John pouring soulfire upon it through Phoebe, Cassie Sandsmark and Tim Drake and the Archivist battling the thing with swords and lightning. The final, terrible moment when Phoebe broke away from John to the voice of her father.

    The way they were not in time, not fast enough, to keep the scorpion from hurting Phoebe. It weighs on Jon, clearly, and the weight of it is there in the Archive now.

    The Archivist had tried to draw out Leksandra's Story and gotten Mickey Rogers' instead. It is not repeated here. She is shielded, but also whatever they had done last night seemed to hurt her. And John's spell, at the end, the /barrage/ of spells, and the final reverse exorcism that somehow shoved her out of control of the construct.

    He lingers, because it's important, on the wounds and how Phoebe got them and how they progressed through the night. It seems he can't just pull out the single piece of relevant information--not yet--but the Archivist knows what's important, at least.

    When he's done--and he has a pleasant speaking voice, he's excellent at telling a story--he sits back, blinks and shakes his head, downs the rest of his coffee. "Do you need anything else?" he asks, before taking another bite of donut.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Lydia nods to John, and sticks her donut into her mouth so she has both hands free to pull out her phone and unlock it and hand it over to him. She's a little surprised that John is asking her to do this. Delegating responsibility. Perhaps fatherhood suits John after all.

"Sure," she tells him. "I'll do what I can. Have you established a pattern at all?"

An ear is turned to the room behind her. Her heightened senses letting her take in all that's going on, including Jon's recitation of the previous night's events. She shakes her head, tearing off a piece of the donut. "God, John. That bitch just doesn't know how to quit, does she?"

John Constantine has posed:
    John takes the phone and what he does... isn't a normal transfer of information between his and hers, it's a magical one. Technomancy, it's not is wheelhouse, but it's not too far outside it, not for small things. Petty Dabbler indeed. He hands Lydia's back and says, "No, they're just spreading out from the New York area like wildfire. So origin must be here?"

    "No, she doesn't and I haven't slept in three days and don't fuckin' bloody well know when I'll get the chance. I tossed around more magic in half an hour last night than I have in weeks time before. I can't keep this pace up." Now his voice *is* low enough to make him difficult to overhear. "Anyway, your phone will alert you with any new reported activity now and I have contacts from every state in the US and a lot across the pond. If the alert is tagged 'civilian reported', contact the person closest on the list and let them know. If it's tagged 'handled' then it's been reported by a contact on the list."

    A glance back again, toward the room. "I have to get back in there, aye? I can't stay long as it is. I just needed to get Midnite here, this is wheelhouse, Necromancy."

Jubilation Lee has posed:
    Jubilation nods her head a couple of times at Midnite, whose name is totally NOT Papa. The comment about her mouth being full of blood? She wonders if that's a threat, but there's really only one way to find out.

    "Is that a threat?" she asks simply, raising her eyebrows above the top edge of her sunglasses. She stands from her seat on Jon's armrest and moves so her back can lean comfortably against the wall. With both arms crossed in front of her chest, Jubilation falls quiet and listens to Jonathan's account of the events. It's not the /strangest/ stuff she's heard, not even close, but one detail lingers that begs a question.

    "So, like, Osiris and Zeus were all teamed up and buddy-buddy?" Jubilee asks, forgetting or not caring that the story was not told for her enjoyment or even understanding, turning her head quickly towards Jonathan.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Papa Midnite looks at Jubilee, who is far too close for his comfort. His hand is still holding Phoebe's mouth open.

    "Stick around and find out, little fanged one." he states flatly to Jubilee, and continues his investigation.

    "The wound is too big to close on its own. If it were amputated, she would stand a chance of recovery and lose the arm and the shoulder... and part of a lung, I would wager." he states, folding the hankercheif. "This black magic is a blend I have not encountered before. The necrotic poison is eating at her physical form with no care for her other self, but thre are complications to its casting." he states, and he grips the hankercheif in his hand. He holds it tightly, and then begins to utter words under his breath. The hankercheif lights up in flame, and he watches it burn.

    His eyes narrow a moment, and he makes a face as if he has caught the scent of something foul.

    "... amature." he mutters, and from his jacket pocket he takes out a vial. The vial looks like it's full of some sort of black liquid, it's thick, like motor oil moving in slow motion.

    "Constantine!" he barks, "How long are those markings supposed to hold?"

Tim Drake has posed:
    Tim continues to sit where he is and work his way through the two donuts in his hands. His eyes get progressively more owlish as Jon tells his story, and he sinks further down in the chair.

    The whole smoke and fire show that Papa Midnite puts on is probably something Tim would protest--not with sources of pure oxygen to be found nearby--but all he does is take in one deep breath and let it out slowly. All he can do is watch on as Phoebe is examined.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon frowns for a moment, too distracted by what's going on with Phoebe to respond to Jubilee's question. Then he says, "I am fairly well convinced, between what she looks like astrally, her own abilities, and Set's statements about her, that Phoebe is somehow connected to Heka--either the deity himself or the concept of /heka/, of magic. Light that existed before duality came into being." He frowns slightly. There's /something/ there, if he could just figure it out. Like a nagging buzz in the back of his mind.

    He shakes it off. "Does that help narrow down what might be happening?"

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
"Seems reasonable," Lydia says taking her phone back. She looks at it curiously and scrolls through the many contacts and notes that she'll have to organize them so that she can separate that from her Brotherhood business. "With enough data points we /should/ be able to find an epicenter. We just need a computer and data analyst."

She puts her phone back into her purse and looks up at John with some concern. "When you find her... the bitch, that is, promise me you'll take some time to get some rest." She knows John will try to shrug that off but she locks her gaze with his. "I'm serious. You've confronted this woman, how many times? Many. Let's go with many. And each time she's been powerful enough to slip through your fingers. You're going to need to be as close to 100% as you can get, and you're not going to be anywhere close to that unless you get some sleep."

She takes a step back to let John through the door. "Sounds like you're being summoned," she tells him with a quirk of a smile. "Look. You've got this. I'm going to go see if I can't hunt down somebody who's willing to take a look at this technology wise." Her eyes flick to where Papa Midnite is working on Phoebe. "Keep me up to date on the situation, okay?"

Once she's got confirmation that he will, in fact, keep her up to date she gives him a nod in parting, and turns to head on home.

John Constantine has posed:
    John was already turning to head back in, he was right outside. He starts with, "We're not cutting body parts of my daughter..." Not yet anyway, but if it ends up being the only way.

    "Until the circles are broken," he replies, but he clears the distance between himself and Phoebe and the bed in two steps. There *shouldn't* be an issue with the wards and even Midnite would see it. It was hurried, down and dirty, but that's WELL within John's wheelhouse, down and dirty is the way he plays the game and ... such small wards?

    He's exhausted, running on less than fumes. He snaps, "Amateur, my fuckin' *ass*, cut it Midnite. Just *cut it*, if someone ... took Cedella from you, you know you'd have my aid without the fucking *bullshite*. She's my fucking *kid*, Midnite." Maybe it's a bad analogy, but he *knows* that's the one 'person' that means the most to the man. Never mind the fact that he, y'know, murdered her and bound her to a skull and shit. "Next time Death is fighting in the underworld and your patron gets offed, fix it yourself if I'm such an *amateur*."

    He closes his eyes and sucks in a deeeep breath, it's not the time. He lets it out slowly. Not the time. Another. Not the time. And then he's checking those wards over. "It's not like I had a *fucking tattoo* gun WITH ME, *arsehole*."

    Deep breath. Not. The. Time. John.

Jubilation Lee has posed:
    Stick around and find out. "Is /that/ a threat?" Jubilation asks, desperately trying to get her vampiric flight-or-fight response under control. The sudden display of fire draws out an instinctual, deeply rooted fear. Jubilee hisses again, this time much more obviously, as she stares wide-eyed at the burning handkerchief.

    Perhaps overcome with fear of the fire or maybe just a sudden show of maturity, Jubilee says something unexpected. "I...will go wait outside, then," she announces, pushing off from the wall. "And you can't have a donut!" That last statement is meant for Papa Midnite himself, delivered angrily as Jubes glides towards the door, breezing past John as he comes back in. Jubilee stops and turns to face Papa Midnite again, staring daggers through her sunglasses.

    "You can have a /tiny/ piece!" she says loudly before exiting into the hallway and leaning against the wall next to the door. She frowns, takes out her smartphone, and then stops. "...Daughter?" Jubilee says to herself, head turning back towards the doorway to the room.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Midnite pauses, he lets Phoebe close her mouth, who just looks up at him with the absolute contempt, and she brings her free hand up to rub at her jaw, and was amout to open her mouth to say something, but it comes out in a hiss of pain. She looks to Tim, then to Jon, and as Jubilee comes back into the room, Phoebe sheepishly points to the 'IT'S A BOY!' balloon, and gives a shrug.

    Midnite, however, turns to regard Constantine, and listens to the vebral barrage.

    And then he leans over, and he helps himself to a WHOLE donut, just to spite Jubilee. He's not going to let a baby vampire tell him what to do. "IF you are going to say something, Son of the City, say it. You would not be here if you are not tangled up in this web. Your input matters." Papa Midnite states to Tim. Then to Jon, he just... smiles. Toothily.

    There is both light and darkness in both the chaos and the light. We shall have to see what becomes of this one, it will show in time." he smiles to the Archivist. It is not a kind smile. And finally, he turns to John.

    "They are marker, and she is sweaty. She should be in a warded room instead of a room in a ward. But..." he states, and he reaches for Constantine's hand, and dumps the ashes of the blood-soaked hankerchief in it, and then gives John the vial.

    "There have been three others killed by this poison; I have seen two beyond the veil, and one in the deserts of Old Nubia. It rots the physical form without affecting the astral. It is *very* painful. When it reaches her heart, she *will* perish. Whatever agreement was brokered, those pustules and blisters are stopping one entity, but keeping another. She has no protection other than the marks here. I can see two options -- find the third who was killed by this poison, capture the memory and use it to help her fight, or remove her shoulder and arm and hope the infection in her blood can be fought off by normal means." Midnite states, and he tilts his head back, looking down at Constantine. "There are other places around the world where this child's blood has been stored and is being transported and used to create a further web. Positively, your child has nearly gone to the other side twice, negatively she cannot go because she is caught in a spider's web, from here in Gotham, to New York. London. Berlin. Cairo. Her blood is being used to catch others in a bet from which they will not be freed. You should probably find where her blood has fallen, and purify it, and then find the one responsible." Papa Midnight goes to put on his hat.

    "And when you do find her, make sure she does not rise again. Ever."

Tim Drake has posed:
    Tim has done a great deal of sitting down and keeping his mouth shut for this whole thing. He's become more obvious in his observing, these last few moments, gaze going back and forth first between Papa Midnite and Jubilation, and then it transfers over when Constantine enters.

    Both of his donuts are gone now, and somehow he's managed to keep his fingers mostly free of stickiness. Maybe that's his super-power. Fastidiousness.

    He sits up slightly, but Jubilee announces just then that she's going to wait outside, and he settles again. His hands steeple in front of his mouth, eyes narrowed, and as tempers flare and insults continue to be thrown around, Tim finally sits up. His legs slip from where they've been tucked up against his chest and his shoes hit the vinyl flooring with a sharp noise.

    "I'd just like to remind everyone that this is a clinic--a place of healing--," and the use of that phrase is pointed, since these are all magic folk he's talking to here, "--And not only is it probably a bad idea to stress out Phoebe when her body is trying to heal, but there are other people recovering here as well. I'm not going to mediate your personal grievances with one another but they need to be dealt with elsewhere. This isn't the place for it, and the staff work way too hard to keep it that way."

    His hands flex against his knees before they relax, and he levels a look at everyone in the room, one by one. Look, he has nothing to counter any of the magic power that even he feels (though maybe that's just some sort of placebo effect) in the room right now, but if Papa Midnite wants to call him a Son of the City, he can at least do his part.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon... /blinks/ at Midnite. He does /not/ like that. His brow furrows and he opens his mouth. Closes it. Sighs.

    He holds out the box of donuts--/his/ box of donuts--to Tim. Offering another of the chocolate ones. "Tim is right," he says. "We all need to take a moment, remember that we're not the only ones with a loved one here. This is... difficult. Terribly difficult. But we're going to handle it." He looks at Phoebe. "We /will/ take care of this. The gods sent two of their servants to help you, this is /going/ to work out." It's said as much for Phoebe's morale as anything else.

    Then, once Tim does or doesn't take a donut, "I'm going to text Chas. He needs to be here with Phoebe." He pulls out his phone. "Is there anyone else who should be here, helping protect her? I can coordinate people while you prepare, John." He knows Constantine is exhausted, near his limits. He's not nearly so tired, and he's a halfway decent social buffer when he puts his mind to it. "Should get some sleep myself," he mutters under his breath. "And /definitely/ my own clothing." Evidently he's decided he's going.

John Constantine has posed:
    "I was going to ward the room, after you left," John all but whispers. Less than fumes. Does he even have it in him to do so? Ward the room? He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a brown paper bag, it obviously has a bottle in it. Probably scotch, right? No. He hands the bag to Midnite. "This at one of the places... just see what you can do with it, what you can find out from it, *please." Inside the bag is the bottle from the park, so similar to the ones last night. "Her name's Leksandria... And I don't know if it makes a difference, but her patron is..." and he fires of two text messages after pulling his phone from his pocket, first half of the name in the first text, second half of the name in the second text. Because one just does not fuck with naming demons, written or otherwise. Split the name, take away the power of it.

    Volro... xach.

    Then his attention finally turns to Phoebe. There's a reason it's taken this long to get directly back to her. That reason is the tears that well in those faded denim blues. He blinks them away quick, but not before he has to reach up and wipe that one got loose away. "I'm so sorry, love," he whispers so the cracking in his voice can't be heard.

    His attention snaps to Tim. "What do you think I'm doing? Why do you think he's here? He's right though, she needs to be in a warded room and that's where she's going. To a warded room where..."

    DING - if this were an actual comic, there might be a lightbulb over his head right now.

    "...time doesn't pass." What was he *thinking* letting them bring her here when he has the House of Mystery, where things don't age, time doesn't pass... because it doesn't exist *within* time.

    "No, Jon. We need to take her home." The words come out distracted, distant. His attention goes back to Phoebe. "It's about time you had a room in your other dad's house, innit?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Papa Midnite gives a soft scoff, but does take the bottle. "You can't even ward a shoebox with the way you are standing, Constantine," he states, but he looks over at the assembled room, and then gives a shrug "Then with this, my own hunt begins. I shall speak to you soon, John." he states, and with his hat on, he goes to make an exit, but decides to be fully dramatic and disappear in a flaming, disappearing step, leaving a few ashes that quickly fade to nothingness in his wake.

    Drama queen.

    Phoebe VISIBLY relaxes now that she's not being poked and prodded, looking up at Tim with a wince, and she wiggles her foot at him, sort of like a wave, just some kind of acknowledgement. Blisters in your trachea suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucks.

    Then she looks up at JOhn as he comes closer. She reaches out with her good hand, looking to grab at his trench coat sleeve and tugs him closer because she can't tlak very loudly.

    "Not your fault. I would have killed you if I held on. And... what... The House?" she asks.

Tim Drake has posed:
    Tim has said what he wanted--maybe felt obligated, because he's not really a confrontational kind of guy--to say, so he slouches back into the chair. The offer of donuts is briefly considered, with a vaguely guilty sort of frown that suggests Tim knows he shouldn't, but... then he does, with a quiet "Thank you," to Thoth Dad. He's taken another one of the chocolate frosted options. This one has coconut shavings!

    Once he's tucked himself back up into his previous position, and he returns Phoebe's wince with a sympathetic grimace of his own. He waves at her with the hand that isn't currently holding his donut prize.

    And then he's silent. Because he's chewing, and he has those hoighty-toighty rich person manners.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon looks up from his phone, where he's texting Chas and drafting a group text for the Night Brigade and a certain little vampire is firing off commentary about people's parentage. "Oh. Oh! Yes!" He actually smacks himself in the forehead with his palm. "Why the bloody hell didn't we think of that last night?" Because they were exhausted last night. And because in all honesty Phoebe probably did need the surgeries, given the way she crashed twice.

    He looks back down at his phone. "I'll tell Chas to meet us there, then. Nobody needs to protect you in the House, Phoebe, the House can do that itself, but you shouldn't be alone right now. Especially not there. It's big and spooky, gives me the willies honestly. Chas can take care of the bar... who all is coming with us?" He's typing rapidly; despite his sometimes "frumpy old man" attitude he /is/ a millenial, he can type with his thumbs at a goodly speed, even if he /is/ capitalizing his words properly like a /nerd./ There isn't even any chocolate on the screen.

    "Do we need anyone looking into any other parts of this 'web?'"

Jubilation Lee has posed:
    Jubilation stares down at the glow of her phone, largely ignorant to the conversations happening inside the room. A little jingle goes off -- Joey Lawrence from Blossom saying 'woah' -- and this draws out a sudden look of shock. It hangs there for a few moments and then... fades away. It becomes something a little more complicated, but Jubilee shifts her weight so she can look back inside Phoebe's hospital room.

    Anyone looking at the door would see Jubilee's shocked expression, eyes still hidden by sunglasses.

John Constantine has posed:
    John gets pulled closer. His response. Well, to the first part it's just a blank, poker face expression. He's not buying it, he should have found this bitch faster and *killed* her. The last part, he gives a little nod, maybe a half smile. "The House, Love." There's no mistaking the emphasis on the word 'House'.

    His attention shifts to Jon. "Get everything ready, get her ready so we can take her home."

    He bends down to press a kiss to Phoebe's forehead. It's an awkward thing and it's over quick. He just doesn't know ... *how* to be that guy. His phone rings and he pulls it back again, stepping away from the bed to answer, "Constantine."

John Constantine has posed:
    John gets pulled closer. His response. Well, to the first part it's just a blank, poker face expression. He's not buying it, he should have found this bitch faster and *killed* her. The last part, he gives a little nod, maybe a half smile. "The House, Love." There's no mistaking the emphasis on the word 'House'.

    His attention shifts to Jon. "Get everything ready, get her ready so we can take her home."

    He bends down to press a kiss to Phoebe's forehead. It's an awkward thing and it's over quick. He just doesn't know ... *how* to be that guy. His phone rings and he pulls it back again, stepping away from the bed to answer, "Constantine."

    He covers the mouthpiece and tells Jon, "I guess." The man is ... just lost, he's so tired. "I have a demon to research and some fuckers in the city to hunt down." Whoever he's talking to on the phone must be 'in the know'? It becomes more obvious as he walks out saying, "Are you *sure*, Father? It's the third one in a month, that's... not normal."

    Then he's out of earshot.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "... I'll get in contact with my friends. We can figure something out on that end, once the hole thing is taken care of--" she ventures, and then Constante presses a kiss to her forehead. Her lips press together, her cheeks and ears turn darker, and the girl just sort of, settles down, and looks to the Nurses' station.

    "ANother possession?" she asks quietly and leans her head back.

    And then a realization hits her. "... Alfred's care package will have to be re-routed... ugh." she tilts her head back.

    "You'd better intercept Alfred, Tim, because if it's brownies, I want them. I'll blend them with milk and drink them. Do not care." she states, and gives a grin to her bestie.

    "I get cell service where they're taking me. We'll get this all figured out, and maybe I can get a ride in the car when it's not some sort of emergency some time?" she asks, trying for levity, knowing she's about to leave Gotham for a while, and then looks to Jon.

    "I already have pretty much--" she winces, trying to pull herself to swing her legs over the bed "... everything I might need."

    She grabs the blanket on the bed, and throws it carefully over her shoulders because hospital gowns are backless and cold, and she grabs her smoothie, which is pineapple and delicious.

Tim Drake has posed:
    As it seems a departure is imminent, Tim crams the rest of the donut into his mouth and manages to chew very quickly, done by the time he's stood up. He unplugs his phone charger from the wall and is already tapping at the screen, no doubt sending a text out to Alfred for precisely the purpose Phoebe's just explained. "I'll handle it, don't worry," he says. And then he turns to Jon.

    "You have my number--if there's anything I can do to help, just let me know."

    He doesn't have to say anything to Phoebe. All Tim can manage is just nodding at her, though then he takes a deep breath, before he... no, still can't manage to say anything. Instead he approaches Pheebs's bedside and presses his forehead against the top of her skull. Briefly, his hand rests on her uninjured shoulder, and there's a moment where he probably whispers something to her, b ut then he's standing up, stepping back, and nodding a final time before he slips out the door.

    And oh, there's Jubilee! He tips his head at her in mute goodbye before disappearing down the hall, phone to his ear.

Jubilation Lee has posed:
    With her back to the hallway wall, Jubilation lifts her head and watches Constantine walk down the corridor talking on his phone. At first, she opens her mouth, as if to say something, as if to call out to him, but no sound comes. She frowns a little and then turns back to the doorway. Tim Drake gets a mock salute, but that's about it. He's a donut thief and donut thieves don't get a goodbye.

    "Yeah, yeah, everything you might /need/..." Jubilation announces as she re-enters the room. She proudly holds her smart phone in one hand and saunters over to the side of the hospital bed. She just got the 'all clear' letting her know that the scary voodoo guy is gone. John's gone, too, and that means she's officially free of criticism. "But, what do you /want/?" Jubilee taptaptaps on her phone screen and glances up at Phoebe.

    "Pillow? Laptop? Clothes? Anything! Just tell me your address and text me a list of what you want and I'll get it. I don't need a key... Just tell me, right now, that I can go inside." She doesn't need a key? THAT'S creepy! Jubilee looks up at Phoebe, staring at her, waiting for the verbal confirmation that she would be allowed to go inside. It's not even a politeness thing. She's a vampire and needs to be invited in.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon chews on his lip. Sighs. "I'll ask Chas," he mutters. Chas has been around, knows most of what needs knowing, actually gets a decent night's sleep most of the time.

    He nods to Tim. "Of course."

    Tap, tap, tap go his thumbs and then he stands. Hesitates. "I'll call a nurse to help you?"

    He turns away, but then turns back to look at Phoebe. "It's a good question. What /do/ you want out of this, Phoebe Beacon-Constantine-Chandler?" He knows it's John and Chas' place to make decisions about what happens to her, but he also knows it's important for her to have the chance to say it. What /she/ wants. "Still the same thing as last time I asked?"

    For John to be happy, was the answer then.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    PHoebe raises her good hand and she brings it to Tim's shoulder. It's a simple sort of hug. She's tearing up though. She takes a breath to steady herself, and just holds Tim's hug to her. "Well. I learned from the best." she jokes, and with her good hand, she reaches over, and starts to disconnect and turn things off. She's knowledagebale, and some of this equipment is less sensitive than the ones she's used to.

    She looks to Jubes, and she gives a smile. "I think, honestly Jubilee, I'm going to be sleeping the next couple of days. Maybe I just need to rest." she explains quietly, "But thank you. I'll text you and let you know, and you can drop it off with Chas? I can't give out the address of where I'm going." she smiles, but she looks over to Jon.

    And she looks to John's form, outside her room.

    "Still the same thing as last time." she states, and she gives a smile. "The Impossibility of it all, am I right?"

    And lastly, she disconnects the wire to the pads on her heart monitor, and turns the monitor off once its flatline appears. Some of the nurses are beginning to wander in, since most of the people have filtered out.

Jubilation Lee has posed:
    Jubilation squints just a little at Phoebe. "Okay, so... What I'm /hearing/ is... Surprise you," she says with a smirk. The phone gets stuffed into one of her pockets with a simple shrug, as if to say 'so be it!' Jubilee offers the rest of them a little fangy smile as she adjusts her sunglasses.

    "Don't forget to eat those donuts...They're from one of those bakeries that thinks they're better than Dunkin Donuts but they're really not," she explains as she makes her way to the door. A double peace-sign is flashed before the vampire heads into the hall.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I'll make sure he comes back, Phoebe. Safe and sound, and then we can work on happy." Jon smiles at her. How, exactly, /he/ is going to make sure /John Constantine/ comes home... well, usually /John/ does just fine. Maybe it's more he'll make sure they don't lose anyone so John doesn't have anything to beat himself up about.

    He turns to one of the nurses. "We're taking her home. She'll be in good hands. Can we have a copy of her chart so we know what medications she's been given?" And he'll figure out whatever else, too; he's calmly confident about the whole business. Things he's actually qualified for, for once.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    By the time the nurses come into the room, it's been abandoned; the patient is gone, the people are gone, and a box of donuts remain. All that's left is the lingering smell of tobacco products and the sweet smell of free donuts.

    And Phoebe is brought to the House of Mystery, where time is stopped for those within, to buy John the time he needs.