942/Oh, oh, it's magic!

Oh, oh, it's magic!
Date of Scene:	02 April 2020
Location:	Chelsea - Miagani Island
Synopsis:	When in the Magic Market in the Artsy section of Gotham, Mustang Hawthorne from Happy Harbor meets up with Phoebe Beacon. The two young magic users get the chance to talk, and make plans for meeting up later after eating Gyros.
Cast of Characters:	Phoebe Beacon, Mustang Hawthorne

---

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    BURNLEY HARBOR - The artsy district of Gotham. One of the few places where 'dull gray and sad' is not precisely the norm, it feels most days!

    It was one of those rare sunny evenings, some folks on the upper levels of homes even have their windows open behind the bars meant to keep others out. There's a street performer playing on a trumpet, and the 'New Age' community was getting together for a 'Magic Market' -- a combonation of farmer's market, flea market, and Spirit of Halloween rummage sale. Everything from cheap nylon cloaks to home-grown and dried 'blessed by a Catholic Druid Priest!' lavender was being sold from folding tables and old stationwagons and minivans along this particular street in the Harbor.

Mustang Hawthorne has posed:
    The sound of a skateboard cruising across asphalt can be heard before Mustang comes into view. He skates along, his hands in the pockets of his tight jeans, as he takes in the sight of the Market as it grows closer to him. His flannel whips abour his hips as music blares into his ears through his earbuds. The kid certainly doesn't look like the kind of person this Market is meant for. Most folks probably thing he's some miscreant.

    Either way, the teen ignores any looks he gets and slows a bit as he enters the market itself, before he kicks his board up into his hand. He begins to make his way among the stalls, curious.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    An "Elixor of Truth" (highly alcoholic and sugary) next to bundles of Harry Potter-style lath-turned wands. A wizened hand. A Fiji Mermaid.

    A girl looking at a variety of older books, humming softly to herself, a canvas shopping bag with "#GOTHAMHOPE" on it with a simplified skyline of the city -- inclusive of the famous 'Bat Signal'. A bundle of ecualyptus sticks out of her bag, and she's wearing a colorful sweatshirt. Her dark hair is pulled back into a 'poof' today, and the air just seems that much more 'abuzz' around her.

Mustang Hawthorne has posed:
    The older teen moves through the crowd, head bobbing a bit to the music blasting into his head. He pauses here and there to take in the various stalls and their goods, but he doesn't seem interested in anything they seem to have.

    He steps up beside Phoebe as she eyes the books, and he leans in to brush his fingers down one of the spines, considering it. He plucks a book with a French title from the shelf and opens it, his brow furrowing a little as he leafs through it. It looks like an old French book on herbology. He shivers as he feels that buzz, glancing over at her. "Hey."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    The girl blinks a moment, and her lips purse, turning to look at Mustang before she cracks a little smile, and tugs out one of her earbuds.

    "Hi there!" she smile at him, then looks at the book. "Not a bad choice. Would look charming on a shelf in the kitchen." she offers for small talk.

Mustang Hawthorne has posed:
    He plucks out one of his own earbuds, and he nods a bit as he glances down at the book. "Been brushing up a bit," he grunts. He glances over at the sign that lists prices, and he seems to be considering for a moment before he slides it back onto the shelf.

    Mustang's gaze dips curiously over Phoebe, then. "Healing regrets?," the skater asks, gesturing at the Eucalyptus with tattooed fingers. His fingers have ink, looking like a mingling of standard hipster knuckle tattoos...mingling with magical purpose.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    The tattooed fingers get a curious look, her eyes looking for meaning in the ink and appreciating the artistry behind them a moment before she raises her eyes back to Mustang and gives a little grin.

    "Home-made vaporizor ingredient, but good eye." she replies, crossing her arm a moment as she stands back. "Come to the neighborhood often?" she questions, "I usually shop at the Silver Moon for the items I can't grow."

Mustang Hawthorne has posed:
    If she knows her stuff she might be able to tell a few things in the brief look at his ink. They seem to be linked to magical symbolism about transmutation and transformation, while the one on his pointing finger has something to do with the elements.

    "Grew up down the way," he replies. "But been away a bit. Came back into the city to pick up some shit I forgot and...saw this.."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Language." the girl chides gently, but there's a crooked, charming smile on her lips. And she knows some stuff -- theory-wise. She recognize some of the symbols, but keeps quiet about them. She herself doesn't have tattoos, but has a spray of freckles accross her dark cheeks. She reaches down, and picks up a battered copy of some 1980's New Druidism handbook to thumb through as he continues conversationally.

    "Wonder if maybe we've crossed paths before." she gives a little smile, her gaze drawing up and down his form. "So, just back for the yardsale?" she jokes, slipping the book back down.

Mustang Hawthorne has posed:
    He blinks when she chides him for his language, then he smirks. "Maybe, but I doubt it. I uh...I stayed in a lot," he says. His mentor didn't give him many opportunities to socialize back then. He brushes his fingers back through his hair before he offers the hand to her.

    "Mustang. I'm Mustang. And nah, I left some stuff stashed away around the corner and wanted to pick it up before I headed out. I'm going to Happy Harbor. It's...well, it's not in the city."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Phoebe." the girl introduces herself, and she reaches out to shake his hand.

    And if Mustang was paying attention, and if he's sensitive, there's a little jolt there, energy drawing out as she reaches to very briefly shake his hand wiwth hers.

    "Happy Harbor? ... sounds a bit like a retirement home. Some sort of commune?" she jokes with a wry grin.

Mustang Hawthorne has posed:
    His hand has the roughness of a hard life, but it's warm. He's sensitive, and that jolt sends a light shiver up his spine. He arches an eyebrow and his agze dips curiously over her before he smirks.

    "Eh, it's a high school. Well, it's a town, but also a high school." He shrugs a muscled shoulder. "Nothing fancy," he lies.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "A highschool town. Sounds like shenanigans." Phoebe gives a bright smile, and considers a moment before she plugs that French Herbology book off the shelf again, purchases it, and slips it into her bag.

    "Private school, right? For miscreants no doubt." she attempts to sound dour, but her voice has a lightness to it. She's issuing little jokes.

    She might even be flirting. Hard to say.

Mustang Hawthorne has posed:
    He smirks a bit at that, his curiousity piqued, it seems. Mustang turns to better face her, and he leans against the counter a bit. "Well, it's a full town...that happens to have a high school, you know?"

    He grins a bit wider as he picks up a bit on her flirtation, if that is what it is. Maybe he just wants it to be. "And miscreant is one of the nicest things I've ever been called," he replies.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Aah, I see." Phoebe gives a slight grin, and she give a small shrug of her shoulders. "That's a little disappointing. You're plenty conversational, and kinda charming -- I'm curious about your tattoos though." she states, motioning down to his fingers. "Interesting artwork."

Mustang Hawthorne has posed:
    His gaze dips to follows hers to the ink on his hands. "Oh. Uh. Thanks. Yeah, I like 'em. Which is good, since ink tends to stay." Mustang chuckles a bit and then shrugs his well-formed shoulders, before he looks back to her. "Got a bunch more, too," he says after a moment. None others are visible at the moment.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe's eyebrows rise up in curiosity, Her lips purse slightly and she blushes a bit, rubbing the back of her head as he gives a nervous little laugh.

    "Sounds interesting. Variants on a theme?" she questions, beginning to walk a little, stepping away from the book table.

Mustang Hawthorne has posed:
    He continues to carry his skateboard in one hand as he turns to walk alongside her. "Kinda. I plan on more, too. At some point. Just not there yet." Mustang glances over at her, offering a lopsided grin. "So, you're from here, then?," he asks her.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Huh. Deep meaning or just like the designs?" she questions curiousity. "Sorry if it sounds like I'm nosy, they are pretty cool." she replies casually as they walk.

    "Yeah," Phoebe replies quietly, looking up to the buildings. "Gotham's my home town, but my neighborhood's split between the Outer Narrows and the back near the university. I've seen some of the best of the city -- and some of the worst -- from my bedroom windows."

    "What about you? Local to the neighborhood or did you move around a lot, Mustang?"

Mustang Hawthorne has posed:
    "Born and raised in the deep Narrows," he says after a moment. Oof. Rough neighborhood. "Spent pretty much my whole life in Gotham until recently. Weird being away, I'll tell ya that much."

    "Mix of the two," he explains. "They all mean something to me, but wouldn't mean much to anyone else." He pauses for a moment and then grins a bit, leaning over to say softly, "But I have a feeling you might get their meaning. At least...more then some other folks. Could be wrong, though."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Ooh. Yeah, that's a rough patch of Gotham." Phoebe winces. "My dad grew up there. He had stories, man." she replies as they walk -- and then he leans in. And his voice softens, and she might blush a bit more before stammering: "Oh, well, you know, you hang around these things long enough you see things, on the internet, in books..." she trails off, and then rubs the back of her neck.

Mustang Hawthorne has posed:
    "Yeah. It was...well." He shrugs. "...It was what it was."

    He smirks a bit at her reply and nods, brushing his fingers back through his hair. "Gotcha. So...since I didn't buy anything at the market, I got a few bucks if you wanted to eat. Is there still that little greek place around the corner with the killer gyros?," Mustang asks, glancing over at her.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Ah -- Alek's? I think it changed hands but still does gyros and schwarma or something--" Phoebe states, and she takes a left through the alley "But they have a stage set up blocking part of the street up there -- we'll pop out on the other side this way."

Mustang Hawthorne has posed:
    Mustang nods to that and moves to follow her. He fishes out his crappy phone and turns it off, plucking out the other earbud and stuffing them all into his pocket as they walk along. He idly switches his skateboard from one hand to the other as he follows along at her side.

    "Ah, cool. Hope it's just as good. I'm buyin'."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Well, I mean, if you insist?" the girl gives a laugh --

    And as this is Gotham.

    And there is a large group of people.

    Inevitably there will be someone in the alleyway who isn't supposed to be there, and a guy steps out in front of the teens, brandishing a knife.

    "Hey, kids. How's it going?"

Mustang Hawthorne has posed:
    Mustang glances from Phoebe towards the mugger, and he grunts softly. He glances about, scanning for accomplices swiftly. Hell, he used to do what this guy is doing when he was really desperate, so he knows what to look for.

    "Well, I -was- flirting with this cute girl here, but..."

    He holds a hand out, and she might notice him trace a finger down the elemental tattoo, which is intertwined with a more classic little anchor. "Calefac," he intones in latin. 'Be hot', basically. A rough translation. And just like that he channels the man's body heat up his arm and into the knife, superheating the metal and the handle along with it.

    "...So if you wouldn't mind."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe had paused, and her eyes had narrowed. She had gripped her shopping bag tighter as she braced for a fight -- and looked rather surprise at both the compliment and the sudden Latin.

    The steel in the handle heats up quickly, to the point where the man attempting to hold the two teens up for their wallets gives a cry out, holding his hand as he backs up a couple of steps, looking to the two of them with surprise.

    "You're onna those freaks!" he calls out, and withdraws in a hurry -- unwilling to see if Mustang can do that to any other metal in the guy's body!

Mustang Hawthorne has posed:
    Mustang sighs softly and lowers his hand, watching the man flee. He sighs softly and kicks the red hot knife aside before he glances back towards Phoebe, frowning a bit.

"Uh. Sorry about that. I really shouldn't have done that in front of you." He shakes his head a bit and shrugs a shoulder before he glances after the fleeing mugger again. "Sure hope you can keep a secret."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "... ohmigod. Was that magic? That /was/ magic! You're not a mutant?" the teen asks incredulously, looking up at Mustang with surprised eyes. Phoebe is now taking a much closer look at those Tattoos.

    "Elemental control of fire, latin -- how does it channel? I mean, I have a rough understanding but ohmy/gosh/ I have never seen anyone actually do it." she breathes out, and runs a hand over her hair.

Mustang Hawthorne has posed:
    He clears his throat and seems to consider for a moment before he shrugs. "It's...complicated," he says after a moment with a sigh. "And nah, not a Mutant. Pure magi..." Mustang glances up and down the alleyway before he turns to continue their walk. "We can talk about it over food? I'm starving..." Mustang is trying to think about how exactly he can explain...and what exactly he should tell her.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I-- oh! My gosh, yes, of course!" Phoebe states as she motions, and hurries along.

    The two come out over the other side of the alley, right next to the restaurant, which understandably smells of delicious lamb and tzaki. She weighs her own options, looking at Mustang with intense curiousity now in her expression.

Mustang Hawthorne has posed:
    He leads the way into the restaurant as he fishes out a battered looking wallet. "I'll have a number three," he grunts. "Coke." He then glances over at Phoebe, waiting for her to order as well. Once she's ordered her own meal, he pays. He then glances about and gestures to a corner booth. Somewhere they can talk quietly, at least.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Ah -- a number two, extra cucumber, and a sprite, please." the girl gives a smile, and as they grab their carved meat and pita, the two go sit down in the corner booth, and Phoebe looks at Mustang quietly and whispers:

    ".. I really wish I met you earlier. I don't feel so alone now."

Mustang Hawthorne has posed:
    He slides into the booth after grabbing an extra container of tzaziki, and some ketchup. He dips one of his fries in the ketchup and nods a bit, before he picks up the tzaziki and empties it onto his gyro.

    "So...do you just read a lot, or are you trained at all?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Ah... kinda neither?" she ventures nervously. Her weight shifts a moment before she admits: "I just sort of... spontaneously began doing something. I know I'm not a mutant, but oher than that I don't really know a lot about it. Even the few superheroes I've met aren't really sure... I just help where I can and try not to get into too much trouble." she gives a wry smile, her shoulders rising up. "I don't even know where I'm really from, so there's a whole lot of mystery and not a lot of answers. You're the first one I've met that can actually do it... so is yours linked to your tattoos? Are there a lot of different effects or does it trigger on touch with a power-word? Kiai? Ah -- oh my gosh I'm sorry I sound like a dweeb..."

Mustang Hawthorne has posed:
    Mustang arches an eyebrow at that as he picks up his gyro for a bite. "Mmmmn. Still good," he grunts. He's famished. He shakes his head a bit and then chuckles, taking a sip of his drink. "It's alright to be excited about shit." He pauses, remembering her statement about swearing, and he grins, glancing down at his food, popping another fry. "Nah. Magic is tied to ritual or connection. Takes me time to really do anything decent, so I tied a few minor effects into ink and put them as symbolic links on my body. But anything good takes actual willworking."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe looks a little crestfallen, but she gives a sheepish smile, and she clasps her hands together tightly, and breathes out.

    And there, as she parts her hands, is a little spark of bright light, suspended in mid-air for a heartbeat before she lets it fade, looking over to make sure no one's seen, and then he grabs some of the ketchub and puts a nice little pile of it in the corner of her fries, dipping them in a moment.

    "So I'm back to being a mystery then." she jokes.

Mustang Hawthorne has posed:
    He blinks and watches as she makes the light appear, and he nods, then. "Huh. Well, mysteries are what magic magic...well...magic." The boy chuckles a bit and winks at her, eating some more of his food as he watches her. "Plus I've heard of others who can do spontaneous magic. I'm just...not good at it. Yet."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Yet. So, you learn from anyone in particular? There's not like... some super secret cabal of wizards living in Gotham, is there?" Phoebe inquires, "... because I feel like sometimes I don't tamp down hard enough. I figure someone would have found me."

Mustang Hawthorne has posed:
    "There are spellcasters all over the place," he grunts after a moment. "But I don't really know any others yet. Well, other then the guy who taught me and..." He shakes his head, growing quiet as he focuses on his food for a moment. Finally he adds, "...And you don't want anything to do with him."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Huh... I'll... take your word for it, Mustang." Phoebe replies quietly, dipping more fries into her ketchup quietly as she considers. So many more questions, and just not enough time to even ask one, or decide on one.

    "So... just fire and heat, or do you have a lot of tricks up your proverbial sleeve?"

Mustang Hawthorne has posed:
    "Mn. Abjuration, evocation, divination, transmutation..." He takes another big bite of his gyro, letting out a pleased sound. "...Conjuration, necromancy. Alchemy. I kinda got the full suite from learning...but I'm better at some then I am at others, and I still got a ton to learn." He says that last bit in a tone that makes it seem like admitting it hurts him.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "If it's any consolation, most of what I do is healing people and myself. Plus side is that I pretty much never get sick. Not plus side us the two times in the last month I've been shot it really sucks." Phoebe complains quietly, and gives a sort of mopey look.

    "And there's always something new to learn about any topic. I love plants, and oh my goodness is there so much to learn about even just regular horticulture." she states with a wry grin. "And I don't suppose they offer 'General Studies of Magic' as a class at Gotham U."

Mustang Hawthorne has posed:
    He finishes his gyro as she is talking, and he begins to idly pick at his fries. "You've been shot twice?," he asks, blinking at her. He shakes his head a bit and chuckles, bringing his soda to his lips for a sip. "Jesus. Yeah, my fields might have kept the bullet from hitting me, but if someone got through that...I'd probably be too dead to heal myself."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    The girl gives a shrug. "Gotham." she replie, and Phoebe lean back a moment. "So... yeah. I've that magical knack. I've kept it secret... mostly. I think you're the first person I've told without having to use it." he gives a slight laugh, rubbing the back of her neck a moment.

Mustang Hawthorne has posed:
    He nods to her and grins softly. "You're one of the first people to know about my abilities that isn't...well...involved in other stuff. So, congrats. We shared our secret with eachother. Kinda intimate, don't you think?" He pops another fry into his mouth.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Dunno. Are there rules to this whole 'weird power teenager' type thing? Are we supposed to exchange horroscopes now?" Phoebe gives a smile as she looks to Mustang, and gives a small shrug. "Not bad for a guy with a French Herbalism book in hand to meet up with. Who knew?" she gives a little grin.

Mustang Hawthorne has posed:
    He grins and shakes his head. "I have no idea what's normal. You're asking the wrong person for that." Mustang winks at her and downs his last fry before he leans back a bit. "Wanna give me your number?," he asks. "Maybe we can hook up and talk about magic or something.."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Smoothest transition ever." Phoebe gives a grin, and she reaches into her bag, takes out a little case, and takes a business card, handing it over to Mustang.

    The business card has the same Gotham Skyline as her bag, and #GothamHope on it, and beneath a set of digits, and 'Phoebe Beacon - Hope Blogger' on it.

    "... I paid five bucks and got like, six hundred cards last year." she jokes.

Mustang Hawthorne has posed:
    Mustang reaches out for the car, taking it. He glances down at it before offering her a lopsided grin. "Wasn't it just?," he asks with a teasing tone. He then looks the card over again before he tucks it away and nods. "I don't have a card, but you'll have my number once I shoot you a text..":

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe gives a slight grin. "All right, well, no creepy stuff, mind you," she scolds lightly, "Or where the sun don't shine won't be."

    It was about the most intimidating that Phoebe has been, the teenager giving a little grin to Mustang.

    "I'd settle for a last name. I already feel less alone."

Mustang Hawthorne has posed:
    He chuckles and shakes his head. "No creepy stuff." He sips his drink and offers a lopsided grin before he nods. "Hawthorne. It's Mustang Hawthorne. My full name, I mean."

    He brushes his fingers back through his hair and shrugs.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Mustang Hawthorne.A prickly rebellious name if I ever heard one." Phoebe agrees. "Well, it is a pleasure to meet your acquaintence, Mr. Hawthorne. I'd like to meet up again and talk magic t some point int he future."

Mustang Hawthorne has posed:
    "Definatly." He fishes out a couple bucks for a tip and drops it onto the table. He then slides out of the booth and picks his skateboard back up. "I need to get back to Happy Harbor before it gets too late, though."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "That's fair, I should get on home myself. My mom worries if I'm out too long without a group." she replies, and gives a grin to Mustang. "See you around, Mustang."

Mustang Hawthorne has posed:
    He grins and nods to her. "Be safe. It's a rough town. You know that, though..." With that Mustang makes his way out to the street and drops his board. He hops on and gives a kick, cruising down the street and swiftly out of sight.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    And Phoebe watches as Mustang skates out of sight, and bites her lower lip a moment, turns on her heel, and heads for home.

    What a web Gotham has turned out to be!