8917/Return to the Village in the Reeds

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Return to the Village in the Reeds
Date of Scene: 03 December 2021
Location: Village in the Reeds, Egypt/Sudan Border
Synopsis: Zatanna has taken over some teaching duties in continuing Phoebe Beacon's magical instruction. Phoebe feels at least comfortable enough with both her Egyptian and with Zatanna herself to address her as 'sister'. First lesson: Now we're thinking with Portals.

Second Lesson: Preserving the Necropolis that the Village in the Reeds has become. Phoebe accidentallies a guardian.

Cast of Characters: Phoebe Beacon, Zatanna Zatara




Phoebe Beacon has posed:
The Village in the Reeds was once a bustling town, the last bastion of a group of blended-blood homo magi and metahumans stretching back to before the founding of the Upper and Lower Kingdoms of Egypt, founded when the Greeks began to invade from the North, and fully populated by the time Egypt had begun to convert to Christianity, with the Roman Empire. There was once warding and spells that would stop the village from being found by ordinary means, or even trying to divine its location, tied only to those whose blood was from its founding -- which by the time Yasmin Sabry, better known by her birthname Paisi had given birth to her daughter in this village was unable to be found unless someone with the right to it wanted it.

The sand has overtaken some of the village by this point, the tremors and quakes that followed the battle that was here last have knocked over some of the other buildings.

Those with Sight now see only the normal background magics. A few items here and there that had absorbed it, but gone was the tingling sensations of magic thick enough to cut with a knife. Gone were the tethered spirits.

They had made their way with Persephone or Osiris, and now rest in Tarturus or Duat.

A few shades still hung around, either minding the place on their own, or were weak wraiths, feeding off the residual magic of the battle last held here.

A skeletal figure, its mouth left open in agony, wears a red cloak around herself, half buried in the sand.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Some people call it inter-dimensional walking, others 'bouncing' (which is a good reflection on how the teen who coined the term does it), Zatanna prefers portaling. It's a piece of magic that she wants to pass on to Phoebe. Portaling into a new place is by far the hardest, with the easiest being a well-known spot - home or a street that you often frequent. Zee has learned to 'tag' people and portal to them. Tagging an unknown person takes extra steps tantamount to spying on someone through the astral plane.

"Alright, here we go!" This time, the magician opened the portal for the two of them, describing each part of the spell, stepping through on the last word.

She steps out onto the reddish sand of the desert, making a side-step to avoid the gape-mouthed skeleton that greets her.

Her skin tightens at the lack of humidity. A dry wind picks at the red checked kerchief she has wound around her neck. It's counter-intuitive to wear more clothes in such a hot environment, but long pants and sleeves protect against the sun and the sand that scours the skin. Zee is dressed in tough white cotton to reflect the sun and carries a coat in her pack for when the sun goes down and the air quickly cools.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    The way Zatanna described it was much easier to comprehend than the muddled, all-together EXTREMELY mathy-way that Phoebe was trying, setting up a door from her apartment (sacrificing more closet space!) to a place in Gotham that she jokingly had described as 'Tim's Basement'. The darker-skinned mage listens carefully to Zee, and even jots down a couple of notes in sharpie on her bag before she follows through. She's opted to bring goggles this time protect her eyes from the sand, hair pulled up in a wrap as she follows behind Zatanna, and looks around the desert. She wraps a long-sleeve shirt over her T-shirt, and she breathes out.

    She curls her fingers a moment, looking over this place in nervousness.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"There you are," Zatanna greets her with a nod and a smile. Not everyone can walk through a portal and arrive, but Zee trusts Phoebe's skills and hands-on ability with magic.

She sighs to herself looking at the remnant of red cape fluttering in the wind. Not even an odor of the evil that emanated from the woman remains to disturb the peace of the sleeping village.

Zee looks up scrying the innocent blue of the desert sky for any other remainder of evil's dominion and finds none.

"Where would you like to go first? The church? The hospital?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe breathes out in releif. For a split second, she thought she'd be lost in the aether, but no. She arrived. And she tilts her head back a moment, breathes out, and then looks up to Zee, with a smile forming.

    "Well. I mean, I've passed through enough of them. Maybe I'll have a knack for it, Senet." Phoebe gives a little smile up to Zatanna, and she turns to the remaining buildings. She curls her fingers a moment, and she gives a little swallow.

    "Jon said there were remains in the Church." Phoebe states, and she reaches into her side bag and pulls out what looks like a damaged doll.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Zatanna has taught other magicians. It is the legacy of homo magi to guard magic and other magic users, to protect the 'blood.' Some young magic users are as untrustworthy as someone learning to drive; she sometimes wishes she had a "teacher's wheel" and is especially wary of some students. Not so with Phoebe, despite the girl's worries. There is nothing capricious about how she uses magic, at least none that she has ever seen.

"Then let's start there, senet." With a nod for the doll, "So, you brought it. Good." She gestures to the building across the remains of the old square. "Shall we?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Well. We'll see how Zatanna handles it when she finds out about Phoebe's 'Jar of Hearts' spellwork and see how Phoebe charges ahead when she thinks she's the only one affected.

    She gives a small swallow of nervousness, and she grips the doll a little tighter as she walks towards the church.

    The wooden door of the ancient Coptic church is still brown into a yawning maw, and she looks into the dark.

    She brings her hand up, light gathering in her palm to illuminate the interior of the church.

    The church's artwork is beautiful, rendered in hiding the Egyptian pantheton, hidden in frescos behind imagry; when it was in its hayday, it must have been beautiful. Chains are still suspended for candle-light lanterns. The pews have largely been left untouched, the only barrier between the encroaching sands and the altar, gold filligree remaining on its stands.

    And inside, there are a number ofbodies. There are women and children, people clinging to their infants, though no longer tethered to this realm. Only the shells remain.

    Phoebe, here, gives pause.

    She takes the doll, with its black eyes and red dress, and sets it down near the people, between the loyal, defensive dogs that perished protecting them.

    "I'm so sorry. I know she belongs here."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Phoebe's magic warms the interior, light running like liquid along the gold filigree, outlining a saint's holy head, their oblong Byzantine eyes looking down on the congregation of bones. Careful where she steps, Zatanna enters the church but not before lifting both palms up in an open-handed reverence to the Saint's hiding a much older faith.

"Should we gather them up and make a crypt for them, Phoebe? All of them, their guardians, too."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "... their souls have already passed on. They were murdered, I should think that they... they wouldn't have had the trials of Ma'at. Infants shouldn't have to attest to not coveting wives or speaking ill of their rulers." she gives a wan smile, looking to the remains.

    "You know, in ancient Egypt, the regular people would be put into the sands outside necropolises. There's fields where they've found children in graves, surrounded by their play things." she breathes out.

    "... it's... this is harder than I thought it would be. These are my cousins. Any one of these women might have been an aunt." she comments quietly, and she gives a smile.

    "... and even though I couldn't have done anything to change it..." she trails off.

    "There was one night in the Laughing Magician... D- John -- the other John -- had used a hand of Glory to bring back the spirit of one of my uncles. Tiberian. He had said I was taken from the village by the time this all went down." she considers a moment.

    "... I can't think of a better crypt to be surrounded by than the church itself. It's beautiful." she states as she crouches down, and touches the sand, and then looks up to Zatanna.

    "Some of them, I know their names. Down, in the library, I heard Voices."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"The decision should be yours as their descendent," she says softly, watching Phoebe and feeling her sadness as her own.

"Blood of your blood, you would know how to honor them. I'm just here to help." Shaking her head ponderously, "But I will not bring anyone back to speak with you. Not unless there is dire need."

The homo magi kneels next to one of the dogs, "Don't you think that Ma'at has judged them, victims come before him as well as murderers. The Archivist would know."

"We could erect a stone and write the names of the ones you know, the ones who spoke to you."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Mmn." Phoebe replies quietly. "But a two-year-old murdered for his life shouldn't have to stand trial and attest to their innocence. I should hope that if they beleived in Isis, she would have interceded on their behalf. I know there are no gods who speak to me," she trails off with a shrug, and she places the doll closer. She uses her index finger then to start tracing circles in the sand.

    "I never got to ask, Zee. What's your family like? I know Tim knows your... cousin? Zachary? He helped destroy some of Leksandria's cursed objects in Las Vegas."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Mouth pressed into a sad line, the magician considers her words, "Judged is a harsh word. I believe the Gods recognize the innocence of a child's heart and there is nothing they have to prove. I cannot speak for the Goddess Persephone, though she has chosen to speak through me, at times. I feel her passage through me, and I know she loves the innocence of children. No one celebrates their death, not even in the Underworld."

Her expression lightens, and she shrugs, brief smile tugging at one side of her mouth at the mention of Zachary. "I feel more like his aunt. Oh, like all families, we're very different. Zachary is the extrovert like his father and mine. A shared trait. He was made for the stage."

She snorts, saying wryly, "I learned to perform but it comes naturally to him. Channeling his energy is the....ah, issue."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "So what you're saying..." Phoebe lilts, tilting her head back as she pauses her circle in the sand, and gives a smile. "You're the introvert in the family?" she asks, and she begins to make additional marks, her finger tracing figures into the sand, drawing back a little bit.

    "What's it like, being from a family like that? Performing, doing magic... what was it like growing up knowing?" she asks, pushing the goggles up. She definitely was not crying in them, but her eyes betray how tired she already is.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"Well, what do you think? Yes, the introvert surrounded by theatre people and my father and uncle's amazing energy. My father understood, he /had/ married my mother who I didn't know growing up. I wondered where I got that from until when I was around your age, I met my mother. Then, I understood. I even look like her, a little dark skinned, my eyes and hair." She gives Phoebe, a quick incandescent smile shadowed by the memory of losing her mother a second time.

"Phoebe, I didn't know that magic ran in my veins. I think they didn't tell me as a precaution and because using magic too early changes children sometimes in very bad ways. It's like you need to be mostly formed before using it. Also, I think it comes with age and need, too. So," that smile lights her face again, "I learned how to be a magician, the old-fashioned way. Sleight-of-hand, double boxes, stuffing my sleeves with scarves and doves. You know."

She focuses on Phoebe, "How did you find your magic?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I'm a black kid, my adopted parents were both white. Entire church was white. I did't have to worry about being a sore thumb, I was a Beacon." she jokes, using her last name as a play on words as she considers, giving a little smile to Zee, and then a shrug of her shoulders, as she looked to her hands.

"... about making light? That, I was thirteen. I used to pretend if I could rub my hands together really really hard and make them tingle from the friction, I could take the energy and form a ball of light between my hadns, which I could bounce off walls when I was bored trying to sleep." she explains, and she continues to trace the mandala into the sand.

    "Then Chuck Beacon, my adopted dad, was killed. I... uh..." she straightens a moment, and then looks to Zee.

    "Self harm was a big thing when I was fourteen. It should have probably been a cry for help, but I found out it healed without scarring. And the anti-depressants didn't work, because it relies on altering brain chemistry."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"How weird must that feel to grow up with people that are so different from you." She walks over to crouch down next to Phoebe. "Tell me about your mandala."

She considers Phoebe's profile a moment. "I remember you seeing your father when John called him. He looked like he loved you very much. I'm so sorry he was killed. I think I understand how that feels. My mother was killed, too."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "... it was all I knew. Everyone I loved was different than me. And the one I thought was closest--" she pauses, and she looks down at the mandala she was tracing in the sand..

    "... Chuck Beacon was a good man. He was a fire fighter. He died saving others." Phoebe states, skipping over the mandala a moment as she weighs her own heart. "He used to sing all the time making breakfast. Walking down the street. He..." she lifts her hand from the sand "... he was a good person. But he knew what he signed up for. Same as I do." she states with determination, and then she brings her fingers back down.

    "Invocation. Protection. Warding and monitoring. Amplification. This line here is the name of the local god of the village. Sort of the village protector." Phoebe explains.

    "If there is one thing that has gotten drilled into my head it's the importance of a well-made and constructed magical circle. He would never let me do anything if it wasn't /perfect/. So it's gotta be perfect, 'luv'."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"He knew his wards, that man." She takes a deep breath through her nose, shaking her head incredulously, "Still crazy as fuck. He drilled you, did he? Like my father."

My mother was very different. Softer. Let me make my mistakes during the little time I knew her. Maybe she knew we didn't have much time, it's hard to know."

Zee's studies the lines seriously, nodding as the magic whole comes together for her. "It will make a good warding for the place. "I will show you what I can, Phoebe, but I can't be like him. Even when we were together, it was like oil and water, all the time.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "The Other One. The real one's only been by that once. He's busy." Phoebe states stiffly, and she curves the circle, and trails down demotic. Must be perfect.

    "... I know, Zee. You're not him. And you're not like him. And... you don't have to be like him." Phoebe kneels down in the sand.

    "... just... be yourself. I'm just... sorry there's such a mess to clean up." she brings her right hand up and puts it over her heart, her fingers curling as if it hurts. She swallows down something.

    "... apparently, my mother was a master magician. Enough that the memory of her carried through to the Other One. There is a book among the collection that mentions her being very strong as a teenager. Details that she was sent to Great Britain and went to /Oxford/. So, like, No Pressure at All, last child." Phoebe complains. She sets down her bag, and rummages a moment. Candles. Needles. The needles are embedded with their points up.

    "... your mother's magic was different than your fathers?" she questions, and she brings white beeswax candles, and sets them in various places in the sand.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"And your biological father? Do you know their names? Maybe I have information on them in the family archives," she observes quietly, following Phoebe's deft hands as she works.

Chewing her lip, she shrugs, "Different personalities, I'm homo magi on both sides, her people are mysterious, keep hidden away from the world. It was wild how they met. My father's family can be traced back to Atlantis. I cast like he did. She cast using gestures, an older style, not language dependent but could do logomancy if she wanted to."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Nothing. Probably an occultist. They sent women out into the world with the expectation to bring back new blood. All I know is that he is also East African in descent, with a little Arabic and Dutch." she stretches her arms over her head a moment, giving a wince. "I took one of those biological tests to see if I carried the mutant gene." she explains, and she leans back, and motions.

    "My mother's people can be traced all the way back to primative, primordial priesthoods that worshiped the oldest gods in Egypt." she states, and she brings her fingers to her lips, with both hands in an 'OK' symbol, and then she blows out,bringing her hands out. The candles light.

    "... I managed to learn a little cartomancy from a book while I was laid up. Learned how to make a playing card into an ID. Phoebe Beacon-Constantine-Chandler was *still* way too long, even for a magic bus pass." she gives a slight grin, adding a little levity to their work.

    "So, in some sort of weird way, you're like a cousin, something removed, from Kaldur?" she asks, mentioning Aqualad.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"Yes," she nods, grimacing. "Even that jerk Arthur Curry. Now, you can blackmail me. I won't go so far as threaten your life but you are warned!" She grins and stops speaking for a moment, cognizant of Phoebe's need for quiet.

"We will work on portaling and then if I can help you with anything else, we'll figure it out."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Psh. I'm not going to try to blackmail you, I already call you 'sister' --" Phoebe states, and she brings her hands up. She breathes out, and Zee would be able to see golden lines following her arteries and veins, trailing along her fingers. The concentric circles on the backs of her hands lighting up brightly. She breathes out slowly, and whispers in old Egyptian. Magic wends its way around them, tingling like sand caressing against too-dry skin, and then the ward activates.

    "I mean, my cousin kind of killed everyone else, Zee. I think that's a little worse than being 'somewhat' related to Atlantean Royalty." Phoebe states, and she wobbles slightly.

    And that's when there is a sound, sounding cavernous and echoing in the empty church, like a weak 'wwrrrooooooo' sound.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
The magic scintillating around them lights both women's skin golden: Phoebe's copper and Zatanna's white gold. Zatanna's head snaps around to examine the back of the church, soaked with old magic, now perhaps awakened by Phoebe's craft.

She rises from her crouch to walk towards the sound, hands poised to cast though she felt nothing evil enter the church.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe hears the sound as well, and she tilts her head, opening her mouth a moment and she whispers "... that... wasn't supposed to happen...?" she questions, and she curls her fingers, the coppery color clinging to her skin as she follows her mentor.

    There is no evil here. No discoloration of the peace and protection that the old gods hidden behind the faces of biblical and local saints, painted with brown skin and brown eyes. The pews are dusty, covered with sand -- and then the sound comes again 'Awwwoooo...rrrooo...uuu...'

    And there's a tumble, and from beneath one of the pews pokes a little face with a molted nose, red and white fur.

    "Wrruuuuu..." it ... wrus at them. Not quite a 'wruff', its tail wagging a little bit as it sees two humans.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
The magician begins to laugh at herself, the laughter becoming an affectionate rumble as she crouches to not overshadow the little wriggling thing, "Oh, look what you have conjured up, Phoebe!"

Still laughing, she looks over her shoulder, asking plaintively, "Awww, can we keep him, ah, her?"

Reaching for the little creature with no hesitation, she ruffles its neck, murmuring, "Now, where did you come from, little one?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe opens her mouth, and then looks behind them, looking for tracks, and then back to the skinny puppy. She lets her magic circles drop, and the skinny puppy, shamefully sandy, shakes out its fur a moment, little sharp milk teeth mipping playfully at Zee's fingertips, and then turning around, leaning into the ruffles as it gives a 'wuuuruuuu' sound.

    "... I... did I?" she questions, and its huge ears flop back, large paw raising up and pawing at the air. Its eyes are a clear desert sky blue.

    "There aren't any other paw prints leading in or out, Zee. An' it's skinny... lookit its tummy. Not even room for worms." she states quietly., kneeling down beside Zee.

    "I think it..." she pauses and tilts her head over "He's lost. And probably alone."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"Well, I'll be...blessed." She sighs and continues to dig her fingertips into the shameless thing's neck and around its ears.

Nodding, she scrutinizes the animal carefully, then nods decisively, "With those eyes? I'd say so. Either you have brought the church guardian into existence or your have a new companion, Phoebe."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Or maybe you do!" Phoebe protests quickly, and the little thing continues to just happy-wruu against Zee, until it seems to notice Phoebe's presence. And then it gives a 'wruu!', and flops down to its side, looking up adorably.

    Phoebe just gives a :| face.

    "Zeeee. It's adorable."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"Oh, stars and wands, it so /is/!" Zee can't keep her hand off the dirty little thing. "He or she? Can't be left here unless it has food or water. I believe we have to take this home with us. I wouldn't leave it at Shadowcrest but don't you think it would thrive at the Curio?"

Sitting down, cross-legged, she mutters, "doof, retaw, slwob won, ereH" And a metal bowl appears with chopped meat, alongside a bowl of water.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "He. Vents are too far apart to be female." Phoebe states as she sits down in the church, cross-legged in the sand as the puppy paws at her boot, and then begins to give a smile. "I've spent a little time with Bart and he'd probably be The Guy to talk about it with -- oh aren't you cute." she breathes out, and she scritches on the puppy's tummy as Zatanna casts. The water and food bowls show up, and that, of course, grabs the pup's attention, and it goes to the water, where it begins to quickly lap, its little tail curling a bit.

    "All right, so say it's a guardian, and even if it *could* leave the church, and *couldn't* live in Shadowcrest, and it *had* to live in the Curio..." she reaches over and pets at its ears.

    "... think Chas will let me have a dog?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Even /if/..." Phoebe whispers, and she looks at the little puppy, with its big ol' paws and little 'awrruuu' and floppy tail wags, and she siiiighs, and leans her head back against a pew arm.

    "Zee. I didn't intend for this to happen. I just want you to know that you have puppy visiting rights."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"Thank you," she replies with a tiny under tone of sadness.

"I travel too much to give him a good home. I'll help with upkeep, vets if needed, food.

"Now for names." She narrows her eyes, thinking, still scratching the pups neck, "We know how important they are! What about Rashidi which means wise or Azizi which means precious or Karim - noble and generous. But I will leave that up to you! Lucky girl!"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I... I should be fine. Bart's a vet student. I can bring him to the clinics there if needed." she whispers gently, and she strokes along the white and red fur of the hound's back.

    "Good names, all of them, but I dunno if they feel right, mm, little one?" she smiles, and she scritches the small hound, which after gladly consuming everything in the offered bowls, yaaawwwwns, and flips against both Zee's knee and Phoebe's, his tail wagging.

    "... well. Either way. There was nothing alive in here before we cast... I would.. wager he is a gift, either way." she smiles, and looks to Zee.

    "... thank you, Zatanna."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
She gently extricates herself from the pup to stand, dusting her legs off. As gently, she nods, saying, "A gift. This place needs some attention and love. Thank you for warding it, Phoebe. Let's go home with...the gift. The name will come soon enough."

"Ready?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe leans down, and she picks up the happily tail-flappy puppy, and she tucks it into her jacket, its not-quite-ready-to-stand-up-ears wiggling.

    "Soon enough, as all things." Phoebs agrees, but for the first time in a long time, her smile touches her eyes. There is a lot of admiration for Zee in the dark earth of Phoebe's gaze.

    "Am... am I casting it or you?"

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"Why you, of course," she says, with a smug look at the young girl.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Uuuuuuggggggggggh." Phoebe groans in theatrics, but she secures the pooch.

    She brings up her hands. She focuses on the spell. On her Will. She focuses on that circle that she helped re-enforce. Carved and burnt into the wood of the apartment floor in 3A. THe portal opens, slowly, like pulling teeth. Its coloring is coppery and blue, rippling across the surface like gasoline on a puddle, arched in gold with Phoebe's own script around it in Demotic Egyptian.

    "Is... it stable?"

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"Well," she says bending forward to examine it, "it's original."

Both eyebrows hiked, "I don't expect anything else from you, these days, Phoebe."

The magician pokes a hand into it and withdraws it immediately and theatrically holds it up and turns it over, saying, "Nothing up my sleeve!"

"Let's go! I can pull us out if there is a routing error. But, not with puppy!" Her expression melting as she looks at the oversized paws sticking out from Phoebe's jacket.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Look, at this point I'm working off six traditions, two different mentors and three hours of sleep without the aid of caffeine." Phoebe gives a smile, but she gives a warm smile to Zee, and then pulls her goggles down. She might be crying. Hard to tell.

    "Well if it comes down to it, you pull the puppy and leave me. Tell Cassandra I loved her most, and tell Tim he's a nerd and has to raise our furry son in my memory." she jokes, and the doggo gives anotehr 'urruuuuu!' in agreement.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"No one left behind," Zee replies adamantly. "I trust you. You want to get there with puppy as much as I do. I will tell Tim he is a nerd when I see him, count on it. And Cassandra..." She raises one eyebrow at that and adds, "Let her rip. Ms. P. C-C."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "/That/... is a *terrible* nickname. Veto'd." Phoebe states, and she goes to walk into the portal on her own, with the puppy in her jacket. And she passes through.

    Phoebe is starting a new chapter, a new path, and this one seems brighter now.