9865/Path of Glory: Fearfully and Wonderfully Made

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Path of Glory: Fearfully and Wonderfully Made
Date of Scene: 28 January 2022
Location: Empire State Building
Synopsis: Sandalphon pays a visit to Phoebe to give advice on what can be done to properly preserve the transfer of the Archive to a suitable host, should Jonathan Sims fall in battle.
Cast of Characters: Phoebe Beacon, Michael Demiurgos
Tinyplot: Path of Glory


Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe should be cold. She should be freezing. She should be human.

    But the magi and Outsider at the top of the Empire State Building felt none of those things, what she did feel was a sense of desperation. She didn't even know if the monstrosity she comitted at Radio City Musichall would garner her allyship with the angel her adopted dad had sent to her, or if she was going outside her normal risks.

    A thick outer circle. Thinner inner circles. Circles upon circles in a wedding ring quilt pattern, SANDALPHON COR DILGES LUX written with equal-armed crosses spaced between, white beeswax candles lit and held between plates of glass to protect the flickering flames from the winds.

    Phoebe was hoping this worked. The last time she'd seen anyone call down an Angel, it wasn't during war, and they were much closer to the profane.

    "Sandalphon -- I could use advice."

Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    There is no rush of sound or light but between one blink and the next a tall angel appears in the center of the cirle. "Honestly, child, there is no need to be so loud with your call." He looks at the circles. "And this too is unnecessary. You should know by now that we are not exactly fond of being confined in such a manner."

    The solemn looking youth shakes his head, blonde locks shaking about his head, and gestures. "But I will allow such things given the current nature of the conflict." He eyes her, his yellow eyes narrowing some in curiosity, not animosity. "You have grown much since our last meeting. Utilization of the angelic essence was a novel idea to augment your own power. I commend you on the success of such an undertaking. Now... you need advice, I may be able to provide some. Though such a statement is rather vague. What could you use advice on?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "For your protection as much as mine. I don't know if this absorbtion works on my wishes or can be used without my thought. We're enemies, of sorts--" Phoebe states, and she just sits down, wearing a tank top and cutoffs in the cold weather.

    And when she looks at the tall blonde angel, looking up at him as she just meekly sits on the ground.

    "... but if I'm asking for advice, I don't want to hurt you. You've already given me two priceless gifts."

    She takes a deep breath, and she breaths out.

    "Jon is going to die. The next in line for his hereditary power is a teenage girl and -- getting magical powers as a teenager kind of ruins your life. She has enough to deal with."

    "I have a volunteer to host the Archivist powers. He's not magical, and he's someone both Jon and I trust, and whom I love with all my heart. More than probably anyone else, even my dad."


    She takes out papers, fluttering in the wind. She weighs it down with one lantern to cast light on it. Conduits thoughout the body, temporary markings incribed in ink. Notes in Egyptian and Latin and broken Hebrew.

    The plans to attach the Archives, temporarily, to Tim Drake.

Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    Sandalphon nods and looks over the papers. "A dangerous ritual but I can see the mercy in it." He frowns a bit. "And you wish to know what? If it will work? How to make sure it works? I am not the Architect of the Archive, though Uriel did consult a number of us on the nature of such a being, so I am familiar with how it works at the very least."

    He adds, "As for your ability I do not think you would be able to use it on one of my rank. Likely those with a measure of independence would require a dedicated effort for you to take them into yourself. Virtues are probably the highest that would be absorbed on impulse. But that is another matter entirely." He leans and strikes a strange figure as the circles provide an invisible barrier for his form, propping him up in the air as if it were a wall in itself.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "... how to not kill him with it." Phoebe replies, quiet voice hardly audiable above the wind. "Either Jon or Tim. I should feel abject horror at what I've been doing, and I do, behind the curtains. This is a strange sort of freedom..." she frowns a moment. "If either of them die -- or stay dead -- I won't be able to fix what I've done to the Archive. If I break the Archive, there's going to be consequences beyond my comprehension." she states quietly, and she waggles her hand back and forth. "This is a lot for a seventeen-year-old. I'm not on your level. And I don't want to be. Not yet, anyway." she breathes out and tilts her head back.

    "I need to know this won't kill Tim or destroy his brain forever."

Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    Sandalphon nods. "I see..." he says, considering the situation. "The first thing you must understand is that the Archive is not simply the power that Jonanthan wields. It's a repository of Knowledge and as such... there may be side effects of placing it into a vessel not originally intended." He eyes the girl, nearly a young woman by now.

    "Is Timothy fully aware of this possibility? In taking placing such power in him... some may be left behind when you place it back in Jonathan. Vestigial, certainly, but power nonetheless." He smiles softly. "Agnes is already a vessel of power in her own right, placing the Archive on her would burden her greatly, but the loss of her father is more detrimental to her in this situation. If Timothy is aware of the possibility of him inheriting a portion of magical ability from this temporary holding... then I will help you."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I've made him aware that there's a possibility of side effects, costs. Everything has costs. And I would shoulder it if I could."

    Phoebe quietly looks up to Sandalphon. "I know too well what it feels like to lose a dad. I keep doing it. I feel like I should start shaking out couch cushions in case spare male role-models fall out." she replies to the archangel, and she pushes her hands together a moment as she considers her next words carefully.

    "I'm confident we can bring Jon back. The transferral of the Archives with as little harm as possible to all Jon, Tim, and the Archives."

    Phoebe then looks dour. "My other option was to create a blood doll, or flesh golem, and tie the archive to *it* the same way that the Other One that started this whole mess was created. But John Constantine's a slippery shite."

Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    Sandalphon laughs softly, a sound like silver bells, and nods. "That is one way to describe the Laughing Musician, yes." He sobers and thinks for a moment. "I do not think a blood doll would work for this... placing the Archive on a homunculus would diminish its capacity singificantly."

    He frowns. "As it is a hereditary process, you're going to need to facilitate the interception and transfer to a non-hereditary source," he says, falling into a cadence that is almost assuredly that of 'shop talk.' "Meaning you are going to need to be near Jonathan and Timothy when the Archivist meets his end. This in itself causes a number of probalems, you both have lives and I doubt Jonathan wants you to be in his pocket at all times. So you're going to need to figure out a way to know when he is close to his end, that I will leave to you and him to discuss and determine a proper process." He lets that facet sink in for a moment before continuing.

    "Beyond that... when his brain function--and that is important, you need to focus on his brain activity, not his heart--ceases that is when the transfer will start. If you can manage to intercept it and Timothy is properly prepared as vessel you should be able to place it on him, but know this is a very temporary solution. Timothy isn't created for such things and it will make his life difficult in ways I don't think either of you truly understand."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "More difficult than finding out your best friend is a demi-god with two different stolen divinities?" Phoebe points out to Sandalphon, and she frowns, going over her own work on the overlay, and she traces a few lines with a finger against the paper, and looks up at Sandalphon.

    "It also keeps Tim away from the violence, since while he's holding the archives he really shouldn't be stressing hisbody or his brain too much." she frowns a moment, and looks up to Sandalphon.

    She regards the angel with a quiet sort of resignation, and then leans over to blow out the candles, breaking the circle, trusting the Archangel.

    "... is my Dad aware of what's been going on down here?"

Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    Sandalphon remains in that tipped position even as the candles (and thus the wall holding him up) fade. "He is, yes" the Archangel replies. "As part of the bargain with Michael, Francis is able to see all of the universe with a simple focus of effort from his vantage point."

    He steps out of the cirlce with only the slightest of hesitations, likely he could've broken it with an effort of will, but he didn't want to hurt Phoebe. Not in this exchange. He moves to take a knee next to her, looking over her shoulder at her notes. "He watches Earth constantly. Jonathan, John, Meggan, you, and Asariel are in his mind most. But the war is often on his mind. Why?" he asks. "He knows that you miss him and he misses you too and cannot wait until the time you and others come to rescue him. Something he is certain will occur eventually."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe takes a deep breath as Sandalphon steps out of the circle, and comes around to look over her shoulder at her work. Positively brilliant for someone who only had five, six months study, but every nerve of hers is on fire, exhausted. Her shoulders sag, and then shake a moment. "... he doesn't need to worry about me. I'm doing fine." she states, and she tries to bury that emotion too. She squeezes her hands, and shakes her head before she turns and looks over her shoulder at the angel.

    "I am thankful for your advice and your company, Sandalphon." she turns back to the paperwork.

    "This has to work. It's risky and rash and messy, but it'll have to work. I can't let Agnes lose her dad, just like I'm not going to let Geraldine lose hers." she takes a deep breath, and breathes out.

    "I'm ready for whatever instruction you have for me."

Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    Sandalphon considers the notes for a moment longer and then looks to Phoebe. "He is your father. He will worry regardless of what you say to pacify him. It is in his nature." His serene expression never changes. "Or it could be a reaction to the physiological changes he is undergoing. It is hard to say." He shrugs, in as much as an angel -can- shrug and returns his attention to the notes.

    "Physiological points aside, they are quite similar in demeanor. That will make the transfer easier for both of them in the long run." He points at a few of the markings on the paper and they shift changing in words and notes but remaining Phoebe's script. "This will help as well. A change in the--" he pauses considering a word, "I suppose frequency is as good a term as any, will strengthen your hold on the mantle and allow you greater control in redirecting it to your designated target. It will be hard for you and Timothy, Jonathan will be no more and so it will not be difficult for him. His part will be played, that is until his return."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "It was his nature before I was his kid. He's the only person ever to ground me after running away into the afterlife." Phoebe murmurs quietly, more idle conversation than any revealing notes. "I doubt his current position *helps* the worry. Man needs a vacation -- maybe if I could convince Renee to--" she pauses "... problem for another time." she decide, and she watches as Sandalphon's notes take on her very neat handwriting. "Frequency's a good word for it. I think the classical word would have been 'humours', but there's nothing funny about it." she scratches at her scarred up left shoulder in thought. "It's going to suck either way. Tim will be exhausted. Jon'll be dead. I should be able to construct some sort of connector if he goes onto Duat." she waffles her head back and forth a moment.

    "... so his return is confirmed?" she asks, looking sidelong to Sandalphon as she sets her chin on her knee. Casual conversation with an archangel. NBD.

Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    Sandalphon gives the notes a final look over and seems to accept them as they are. "You have the principle of the matter under control, it just required tweaking to understand just how much you're going to be carrying. You needed a bigger lift. That was all."

    At her question about Jon's return, he shakes his head. "Nothing is assured in matters of life and death. But, things are in motion to see that his plan and the parts many must play in it is as prepared as it can be." He looks out over the vastness of Manhattan from their vantage point. It likely doesn't look too different from what he is used to. "One who has walked the line of life and death holds the keys to the endeavor, I will allow her to explain it when the time is right."

    He returns his gaze to Phoebe with a soft smile. "You have all done so well in this, I have little doubt that you will succeed here as you have in everything else to this point."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "... that means a lot, coming from you. I'd like to think even if you weren't dispatched by Chas, we might still speak." she comments quietly, and she then makes a face. "I'm sorry about the circle. And the shouting to the firmament. You know that I can't exactly text you." she gives a small smile, looking from the city back to the very, very tall angel, and she gives a nod. "Thank you again for your help, Sandalphon."

Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    Sandalphon nods and says with a soft smile. "But you can, Phoebe. Simply call my name and unless I am fully engaged on another front... I can be near." He smiles and rises, placing a hand on the injured shoulder a gesture of physical comfort if not mystical. "With this ordeal... my power is rather limited. Unless directly engaged... which is rare, I am not likely to be fully utilized."

    He smiles and observes the circle. "And as for this?" he waves a hand and the circle simply vanishes, giving credence that it wouldn't have actually held if he wanted out, "I do not take offense. It was a fine construction as any... but we are more complicated than circles of binding of this nature can truly contain."