Owner	Pose
Lydia Dietrich	It's night, a few hours after sunset in a remote area of Yellowstone National Park. She chose this location not only because of its beauty and its stunning view of the night sky, but also because it's unlikely that they'll run into any human life. She's got a large brazier set up with a fire lit inside, and a large bucket of water to put it out once they're done. Off to the side is a large shopping bag filled with items to burn.     She's given everybody who's coming the coordinates and a picture of the place, since they all have their own means of transportation to places off the beaten path. She came early to set the fire and to ward the place against any wandering animals that might be attracted to the light, runes softly glowing around the perimeter of the clearing. She had all set this up with a somber kind of silence, adding gravitas to the proceedings.     "There," she says, turning to Clarice and Mystique once she's done. "Phoebe and Jon are coming, and once they're here we'll begin."
Clarice Ferguson	"Sure," Clarice replies, the magenta-hued woman perched casually atop a large stone. She's brought a few things of her own with her - and has them hanging in a canvas bag over one shoulder as she waits for the other arrivals, her posture relaxed and calm. "It's pretty out here," she remarks - her gaze flicking over their surroundings, lit largely by the light of the waning gibous moon overhead.     "I don't think that me and Mister Creed ever explored out here."
Mystique	It was a beautiful night, and Raven was here to support the woman she loved. She may not fully understand the need or purpose for this 'letting go' ritual, but that didn't mean she would ever let Lydia go through it alone. She was dressed simply, pair of jeans, white shirt with a light jacket, and bare feet, her boots were removed the minute they arrived. Having spent the past several weeks looking back through her life for things to let go of, she found that there was nothing physical. The collection of things wasn't her style, save for the weapons in collection racks, so that made her look more toward emotional things to let go of... those were harder. She still hated, deeply, most humans... but that was an improvement over it having been all humans. Although Lydia remained silent while making the fire, Raven offered to help where she could, but other wise she sort of hovered near the woman she loved, being there, and not really sure what more she could offer or do. "I'm sure they won't be late," she offered, already looking around. Somewhere on the asteroid the rest of her usual security detail was stressing over her being out and about without them, but the past six months of having refugees on the asteroid had made them extremely paranoid.
Jonathan Sims	Jon recently discovered that he can make portals now, although it's not entirely a simple thing. He has to know /exactly/ where he's going, and has to create a door that goes to that place, which requires a wall, for now. And he's never tried to do it on his own before. It also requires not having his prosthetic, so he leaves that at home. He brings a couple of things of his own to burn, papers clutched in his left hand while he conjures a magical right arm and creates a door in his wall, focusing on the picture and the coordinates Lydia gave.     So... a door opens in the middle of Yellowstone National Park, which is maybe a little weird. He's wearing a sweater and jacket against the expected near-freezing temperatures in Yellowstone at night, jeans, boots. The door disappears as it closes behind him and he turns to blink at it in surprise before heading over to the fire. He's changed a little since Mystique and Clarice last saw him in Manhattan, most notably his hair gone violet with an undercut. He smiles at the three women and says, "Hey. Hope you're all well?"
Phoebe Beacon	Doors opening in dark parks in the West are hardly the most unusual things here. You should hear about the stairways.     Phoebe's portaling is less dramatic, the distinct glow of rose-gold, and then she's there, off to the side, stepping out from behind some trees. She had her black hood up. She had no sleeves on the top she was wearing, and black tactical pants on, with gray boots. She hardly looked like the happy teen helping tend bar months ago.     She hangs back a little, looking to Lydia and Clarice, to Raven and Jon. She always felt the Outsider with the group, but sitting at the edge of the fire's light, she just gives a mute smile to the assembled folks.     She's here to support Lydia. Nothing more, nothing less.
Lydia Dietrich	Lydia turns and gives everybody a warm smile in greeting as they arrive. Once they're all here she says, "Thank you all for coming. This means a lot to me. You all are good friend to me, some more than others." To that she hipbumps Mystique and her grin turns sly. "Some of you have brought your own things to burn... to let go of, and it makes me happy that you're participating. Others are here to support and witness, and that makes me happy, too."     "How this will work is that we each will take turns burning something that represents something of our past that we want to let go of," she explains. "It could be a memory, or a philosophical idea. It could be something that represents a past relationship of some kind that you want to move on from. We'll each take our object, and explain a little bit about what it is that your burning, what it represents to you and why you're letting it go. Once done, you toss the item into the fire and say, 'I release you. I am done.'" She turns her face upwards to the stars, her nostrils flaring as she takes in the scents. The fire and smoke. The trees and earth. The animals that live amongst them. "There's magic in this place. Let it help you."     "I'll go first."     From her bag she pulls out a floppy wicker sun hat. "This represents the sun," she says solemnly, stepping up to the brazier. "The sun used to be my friend. Warm and kind, it brings life to what it touches. I'm letting it go because now it's harsh and unrelenting. Almost painful. I release you. I am done." She tosses the hat into the fire, which crackles and starts to consume in. As she watches it burn, she feels a bit lighter, as if a weight has been lifted from her shoulders. She's unsure if magic is involved in that, but she's glad to have let go of it.     She takes a step back for somebody else to take a turn.
Clarice Ferguson	Clarice jumps down from her rock as the others arrive, approaching the fire, and giving Jon and his door a nod. "Nice trick." Phoebe gets a nod as well, before her attention turns to Lydia.     "You could have warned us we'd be giving little speeches!" she chastizes her friend and sister with an amused grin, and falling silent as Lydia speaks. She reaches into her bag - and what she pulls out is a clear plastic box that had once contained a toy monkey. She looks down at it, trying to put her thoughts into words.     "When my parents thought I was dead - my mom put my favorite stuffed animal in here. Made a little shrine of it," she explains. "I spent years thinking my parents abandoned me - didn't want me - only to find out I'd been lied to, but that it was too late to set things right."     She stares at the box for a moment, before tossing it into the fire. Was it a good idea to burn plastic like that? She had no idea. "Bye mom. I release you. I'm done."
Mystique	Raven offers a grin and brow wiggle at the hip bump, yes she knew Lydia quite well, intimately and that was all the further she was going to let her head wonder on that for the time being. The things her love says, that could be burned, immediately start playing through her head. "Right on time," she offered to Phoebe and Jon, then her eyes go back to Lydia. There were thousands of memories she would love to be able to just toss in a fire and forget about, but she didn't believe it would actually work that way. The memory would still persist. Same went for past relationships, too many painful endings, mostly because of herself and not the other. If the idea of burning something away actually meant it went away, there was a dump truck full of things she could add to that fire. With her hands in her pockets, she lets her fingers play over the one and only item she brought. The item wasn't new, nor was it from her past, it was something she'd picked up a long time ago and kept hidden. It was a reminder and it represented two things in her past she really would love to be able to let go of. She wasn't prepared to burn it just yet, she wanted to watch and see what happened. "I hope no one minds if I just watch for now," she finally says, pulling herself from her thoughts while her hand played over the item in her pocket. "I'm still not certain about all this, but I love Lydia and hope this helps her."
Jonathan Sims	Jon watches the others, nodding quietly, respectfully. He smiles over at Phoebe, then steps forward. He pulls something out from between the papers: a feather, shining white. It glimmers with just the faintest hint of residual magic. "Cael asked me to burn something for her, so I figure I'll do that first, especially since... it kind of goes for all of us. This is a feather I gathered from a Dominion after the battle at St. John the Divine. I used it in the wards I set on Grand Central Station, so it's inert, shouldn't be an issue to burn."     He frowns for a moment. "Cael wants to burn it because... it means she can put the angel business behind her. Really start to move on, move forward." He smirks. "Also, because she'd like to burn a bit of an angel. I mean... it's Cael."     A pause, and then, "But for me, it's..." They swallow. "I grew up Anglican. I wanted to be a vicar. I... I still clung to vestiges of that, for years. The beliefs, the dogma, the morality. I felt guilty that I wasn't going to church anymore, or... smug and superior about it. But I know, now, none of us has the precise right answers. I'm an Avatar of Ma'at, but she's an idea as much as an Egyptian goddess."     He tosses the feather into the fire, where it makes tiny gold sparks but no other issues. "So I suppose... the guilt, and the anger, at God and the church. I'm done. And for Cael... I think we're /all/ done with angels." He smirks, and steps back.
Phoebe Beacon	Phoebe gives a little finger waggle of a wave to the others as she's recognized, quietly remaining at the outskirts of the group, not quite in the light, not quite in the night. Everyone else gives their speaches, and she crouches down, in thought, pulling her hood down and showing the under-cut she's kept up from October. The bleached-white braids with the fading pink-orange tips, watching the sunhat, the plastic shrine, and the feather burn.     Her expression softens, her eyes closing and reflecting the burning fire, but she keeps her own counsel. She didn't appear to bring anything to burn, though she rests her arms over her knees as she listens to everyone around her.
Lydia Dietrich	Lydia shakes her head and snakes an arm around Mystique's waist, giving her a gentle squeeze. "Not at all," she says. "I brought a pen and a pad of paper in case anybody thinks of something last minute, but nobody is required to burn anything."     She coughs a bit when the plastic goes up in flames, though due to the magic of the ritual the smoke isn't nearly as toxic as it should be. It burns cleanly like a cardboard box, but still leaves an acrid taste in the air.     She nods at Jon. "I had thought about that myself. I'm not quite done with the angels. I have to finish The Book, and for that I need to talk to Michael. I've also decided that I'm not done with Judaism. God may not have turned out to be what I thought they would have been, but being Jewish means more to me than being religious. It's about celebrating family, community, and recognizing the struggles that we've had in the past. I'm already at peace with that."     She gives Phoebe a smile, and makes a gesture for her to come join them properly, instead of sitting on the sidelines. She doesn't say anything but Phoebe is just a much a friend to her as Jon and Clarice are and she wants to make sure she knows that she's welcome here.     "All right," she says, stepping up and pulling out a sparkly purple card that reads 'Congratulations! It's a baby!' on front. "This is a birth announcement card," she explains. "I can no longer get pregnant." She pauses and stares at the fire, her eyes beginning to well up with blood. "I didn't know how much that meant to me until I lost the ability to do it. I still want kids in the future, and someday, maybe, we might adopt." She gives Mystique a glance and a smile, "But I didn't know how badly I had wanted to carry one of my own." She looks back into the fire and takes a deep breath, placing the card into the brazier to burn. "I release you. I am done."
Clarice Ferguson	Clarice's eyes remain on the little clear plastic box for as long as she can see if - watching it melt and warp and deform as she listens to the others speak. She remains that way in silence for the moment, allowing the others their chance to throw things in, and rid themselves of their burdens while she takes a little more time watching hers destroy itself in the heat.
Mystique	Watching the fire eating the plastic box, Raven notes that there is in fact some magic going on here. That should have been far worse than it was, she'd seen plastic burn before... she'd seen a lot of things burn. Wrapping her arm around Lydia's waist, she glances to her for a moment, then gives her a tight hug. She'd known about her desire to have a child, to carry one herself, and how not being able to effected her. Two tender kisses are offered to Lydia, one to each eye, before she breaks the hug and offers her love a handkerchief. Watching Lydia let go of that was so much more difficult than Raven thought it would be, because she had carried two children herself, and neither were a part of her life, and never would be. Truth was, one remained unknown to anyone in the world, even the father didn't know he existed. That was the item in her pocket, the reminder of the two sons she had. Stepping back from the hug she looks back at the fire before pulling a pair of tiny blue baby booties. "I don't do speeches," she states quietly. "But it's time to forgive myself, to let go of the mistakes I made regarding my children. I have to look to the future, not live in the past." She tosses the booties in the fire. "I'm done hating myself over my mistakes with my children."
Jonathan Sims	Jon has to blink back tears as Lydia starts to cry, and a little more as Raven speaks. He didn't even know she /had/ children. He wants to murmur something, some condolence, but that's kind of the point of this, right? Letting go.     So instead he pulls out one of the two papers and says, "This is a drawing my daughter Lyra made, back when she was five or so. A little while after she moved to America with me and my husband." He swallows. "She's dead. Lyra's dead, and she's not coming back. And neither are any of the other people I miss, but especially her."     He sighs, and tosses the drawing into the fire. "I'm sorry I couldn't... I'm sorry, Lyra. But I release you. I'm done."
Phoebe Beacon	Phoebe does not move any closer. She stays at the edge of the firelight, part of the night, and not part of the burning. She watches, listening, watching, and slowly as everyone begins to talk about children, she just wraps her arms around herself, her eyes watering. Must be the smoke from the plastic.     But watching Lyra's artwork burn, knowing what it meant to Jon? That hurt.
Lydia Dietrich	Lydia smiles wanly as Mystique kisses the blood tears that drip down her cheek. The thought still hurts, but by letting go, it's a manageable kind of hurt. You can only grieve for so long before its time to move on. She watches as Jon lets Lyra go, tears never stop falling. She knows how hard it was for him to do this, how hard it is to let go of a loved one, and she smiles at him encouragingly. This is what the ritual was all about.     She steps up next and finally pulls out a hand written sheet of paper. "This probably should have been the first to go, but I wanted to pull the bandaid off, so to speak. This is my grandmother's recipe for rugelach. They're to die for. I have copies of this if anybody wants them. This..." she hesitates. "This represents eating." She's silent for a moment, staring at the recipe. "I think it means more than that. I think it kind of encapsulates the rest of my humanity that I've lost."     "Eating is as essential to being human as any other thing. It sustains us, and brings us together," she says. "It delights our senses, and the wide variety of foods represents millennia of history and culture. You can tell a lot about a civilization about what they ate. Most of all, it's an /art./"     "I don't eat anymore," she says. "I /feed/, and while feeding is it's own thing that's quite..." she closes her eyes and makes a little noise of longing, "/delectable/, it's not eating. I can taste things but... it's not the same." She looks at the piece of paper in her hand and steps forward. "To eating, and the humanity that I miss, I release you. I am done."
Clarice Ferguson	Clarice's gaze finally pulls from the flames, finding first Lydia, then Jon, and finally Mystique. Children? More than one? There's a questioning look in her gaze, but she doesn't ask the question. Perhaps later - but not now. Certainly not in mixed company.     Reaching into her bag again, Clarice pulls out... a collar. One of the few that hadn't been destroyed completely after the Magistrate's Mutate program. It's been disected, and studied - and seemingly put back together. She holds it in her hands, and stares down at it for a moment before remarking, "My childhood was taken from me. I can never get that back. It took me a long time to find out who I was, and to find family - and rediscover that my blood family still lives, and still wants me. So-" So... what? There's a long silence as she tries to put her thoughts together.     "I can never get my childhood back. The memories I should have had, the education I should have been given - but I still have my future, and I cant still learn. And I don't need to be ashamed about the things I don't know, as long as I keep learning. So I guess- To my lost childhood, I release you. I'm done."     She tosses this into the fire as well - watching it for a moment, then edging closer to Mystique and Lydia, to lean into the presence of her found family, and wrap an arm around Lydia.
Mystique	There were probably other things Raven should have considered throwing in that fire, but she'd chosen the one that haunted her day after day after day. It was enough, she hadn't known if she would actually got through with it or not, but in the end she did and oddly, she felt a little better. Now she was there for Lydia completely, watching the woman she loved release things into the ether, and all because Raven had chosen to save her, rather than let her die... and there it was, the other thing that came to her mind day after day after day. Lydia was a vampire because Raven couldn't let her go. As the time had passed, it had gotten easier to accept this knowledge, and Lydia certainly seemed to accept the change, step by step. That didn't stop Raven from constantly questioning the decision, questioning her own strength, questioning everything that had happened leading up to the moment Raven told Hatshepsut to save her. As Clarice moves closer, Raven slips her arm around the small mutant and offers a soft smile. This was too emotional for the blue mutant, too many feels for her to deal with, the sort of things she usually locked in boxes in her head. Placing a kiss on the top of Clarice's head, she gives a little squeeze of approval, then looks back toward the fire.
Jonathan Sims	Jon lets all that breathe for a moment, running his fingers along the last piece of paper in his hand. He can't help but comment, "So no more zucchini bread?" to Lydia. He says it with a sympathetic smile, though, which slides to Clarice as she speaks.     Finally he sighs. "This is... the first thing I thought of, when Lydia mentioned this ceremony. Which makes it the hardest. It's a copy of my diploma." He holds it up, showing the words 'The trustees of Columbia University in the City of New York' and 'Jonathan Sims' and 'Doctor of Psychiatry' all in fancy lettering. "I spent twelve years and a lot of money I'm still paying back to get this. Long days, long nights. And I worked at /Arkham/, which is..." A huffed out breath. "A whole thing on its own."     Another sigh, and he tosses it in the fire. "But I'm the Archivist now. The Avatar of Ma'at. I can't take patients anymore... I don't have the time, and almost everyone I used to treat is now someone I might fight alongside, a potential friend or teammate. I can still help people, heal them, but... the life I had, the life I /thought/ I had... it's over."     He shakes his head. "Jonathan Sims, the psychiatrist... he's dead. Michael killed him. I'm not... entirely sure who I am now, but I'm not him anymore, in... so many ways. So... my former self, I suppose. The bits I left behind in Duat. I release you. May you rest in peace. I'm done."
Lydia Dietrich	Lydia lets out a bark of surprised laughter at Jon. "I still enjoy baking for people. I think it's a Jewish thing to want to feed your friends and family, and I still /enjoy/ food, but it's an aesthetic enjoyment. Don't worry. I'll still make enough mistakes for you all to get your apology zucchini bread."     She slips an arm around Clarice this time and hugs her close after she burns the collar. Like everything else, it burns cleanly. "I'm glad that that's something you're letting go of. I know it hurt you a lot."     She watches the fire for a while, being still and not breathing while she contemplates all these things that they have let go. She lets the moment sit for all those attending, a moment of reflecting.     Finally she breaks the silence and disengages herself from her friend and sister. "Thank you all for coming, again. I feel.... better. Clean. Lighter. I hope you do, too. If you want to stick around Raven has a cooler full of beer ready."
Clarice Ferguson	"Hurt doesn't feel like a big enough word," Clarice agrees quietly. "But - at least I'm getting better at reading, and writing, and math. And I've seen more movies. Pete says I have to see-" There's a pause as she tries to remember the name, and she //almost// gets there, "Petunia, Queen of the Desert. ...I have not idea what it's about." Ohhhh boy.     As Lydia mentions the drinks, she pulls away enough to open a small portal and reach through - pulling through a cooler with beer, and also a bottle of her favorite cognac. Because of course she did. "Everyone come help yourself," she offers.
Mystique	For a just a short time longer Raven watches the fire, the way it consumes everything it touches and leaves ash in it's wake. She's felt that way about her life before, about everything she has done, or tried to do. The take away was ash, covering herself and the world until she was empty and not even certain what she was really fighting for. Clarice and Lydia had changed that. They had washed away most of the ash on her body and in her mind, allowed her to see clearly for the first time in... too many years to count. She didn't need a fire to burn away anything else, their friendship and love had melted the rest like ice over fire. Clearing her her throat, she turns back to Clarice and the cooler, then walks over and opens it to pull out a bottle of Weihenstephan Hefe Weissbier, her favorite brand of German beer. "Help yourselves," she offers with a gesture. "There's also a couple of cans of soda in there, an orange, Mt Dew, and a Coke if you prefer. A celebration of life, and getting rid of the things that hurt deserves a drink, no matter what it might be."
Jonathan Sims	Jon /blinks/ at Clarice and then laughs. "Priscilla. It's Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. Lovely movie." Oh, no, he's not spoiling that one for Pete, even if he doesn't know the guy. He walks over to the cooler and takes out a beer, using his magical arm to open the thing.     "I didn't have a funeral," he muses. "I mean, everyone knew I was going to die, and then it was... the business of heading into Duat. So this... helps, I guess. Marks the transition. So... thank you. It does help." He glances around, smiling over at Phoebe. "You alright over there?"
Phoebe Beacon	"I'm fine... just... don't have much to give up." Phoebe replies quietly, and finally hops to her feet to join the group, and grabs the mountain dew, giving a nod to Raven and Cael and Lyds, before sitting a little bit apart. Always felt weird, like showing up at someone else's family event.     "I'm glad you all got to get something out though. Seems like it's very cathartic."
Lydia Dietrich	Once Mystique has gotten herself a beer, Lydia moves in and rewraps an arm around her. "I didn't have a funeral, either," she says, breathing only to speak. It seems like she's given up the pretense of having to appear more human around her friends. "It was a thought, though. A morbid one, mind you, but a thought." She cracks a grin, "But I just couldn't stop giggling at the image of my laying in a coffin trying to not to say anything while my friends and family wept over me, so I came up with this instead."     Her strange golden eyes gaze back into the fire, "I think I like this more. I still exist, but not in the same way. I mourned who I was, but it was time to move on." Her eyes flick back to Jon. "I think you know how I feel."
Mystique	Twisting the top off the bottle, Raven tucks the cap in her pocket before taking a drink of the beer. She needed that, more than she was going to admit openly. All this emotional stuff, in public, was difficult for her, but she was able to keep her mask in place. Neutrality was important, at least appearing that way. When Lydia's arm goes around her, she slides her arm around the woman in return. This was a transitional point for Lydia, she knew that, and she deeply hoped it helped, but she was ready to stop dwelling on the past. Another drink is taken before she glances to Jon. A new trend, dying and coming back, was apparently making its way around the world. "I'm afraid my love, that I would not have been as sullen and grieving as you may have liked," she comments as her eyes shift back to Lydia. "I would have had to goose you or something, maybe jump in the casket with you to freak everyone out, probably best it never happened."
Clarice Ferguson	"It was a weird time... when Lydia died. I- I really wanted to mourn her, too. But it felt like- well. My brothers were more of the opinion of 'what is there to mourn - Lydia's still right here.' I mean, neither points of view were really wrong? But it felt strange that //mourning// Lydia was in a way a betrayal?" Clarice shakes her head.     "It still confuses me to think about it. It was a real mess." While she's talking, she pours a glass of cognac, offering it around to see if anyone wants it - before pouring herelf a fresh glass if necessary.
Jonathan Sims	"It's good to take stock and let go every so often," Jon murmurs. "Even of the good things... any rite of passage is partly about that. Graduation means the end of schooling and the beginning of... more schooling, or a job. A wedding is the beginning of a marriage, but the end of being single. We should leave space to let go of the people we used to be, or the people we never will be." He glances to Lydia and Mystique, smiles briefly. "What you and I are now, Lydia... I think it was fated for us both, so it's not /horrible/. But it's new, and there's an old life to leave behind."     They make a face. "That, umm, that reminds me. I've been... doing this... gods, it's weird. But. I'm... sort of... I'm using 'he' and 'they' pronouns both, now. Not a big thing, just... nosing it about, a bit." They eye the cognac, then shrug and accept the glass. They're not going to say no to cognac, even if they've already got a beer.
Phoebe Beacon	Phoebe was listening to everyone speak, quietly reflecting on things, thinking on what was being said -- but something wasn't sitting right. She refuses the stronger alcohol -- not like there'd be any affect on her, but some meter got its fill.     There's a little burst of movement just then, and Phoebe stands up, her shoulders squared, her arms tense a moment before she mumbles something about needing air -- in the middle of Yellowstone -- and she turns immediately to leave the fireside, bringing a hand in the air and bringing a little ghostly globe of light to act as a flashlight and mark where she's walking, leaving the Mountain Dew where she was sitting to save her spot.
Lydia Dietrich	Lydia's laughter is bright and cheerful, her hand reaching down to be the one goosing. "I know, I know. Nobody would have been able to take it seriously." She turns her attention to Clarice. "For a while there, I thought that you were afraid of what I'd become. Add that to Raven's guilt for being the one to give the go ahead of turning me, and actually /being/ turned... well... I did my best broody vampire impression that I could."     "Tried to hide it, for the most part, but if it wasn't for my friends being so supportive I don't think I could have gotten past it." She squeezes Raven close to her and lays her head on her shoulder. "This was... just letting go the rest of it. It's not all bad. There's quite a bit that I enjoy. Not having to go to the bathroom... no /periods/." She lets out a light chuckle, "Enhanced reflexes and strengths. One of the first things I did was set up some American Ninja courses and ran through them. I was never very physical when I was alive but just kind of flying over this insane obstacle course like it was nothing was /exhilarating./"     She turns her grin to Jon. "It's official now? I know we had talked about it before, but that was in the middle of all this angel mess. I'm glad to see you giving it a try."     Phoebe's departure catches her attention, and her expression pulls into a concerned frown. "I worry about her," she says quietly. "I know part of it is being a teenager but..." she shakes her head. "She's been through a lot."
Clarice Ferguson	"I was, briefly," Clarice admits. "But Pete said you were still you, and that- well. That's that. After that I was mostly concerned that you might accidentally harm someone. That we needed to protect you, and ourselves, by taking some precautions until you handle on things. I mean, there's been mutants that came into their gifts and hurt or killed the people they love by mistake. I just didn't want that, and you know I'm sorry if the way I reacted made things even harder for you."     Her attention shifts towards Phoebe, then over towards Jon, curiosity showing on her features. "The first time I met my brother- well. I thought I had a sister. And it took a while before we sorted things out. Before he trust me enough that we could sort things out, I guess. It was confusing for a while - which seems so stupid now."
Mystique	Raven rests her head against Lydia's, her eyes following the hastily retreating Phoebe. There was something troubling there, something in the girl that bellowed for help or love or... something. She didn't know the teen, just a name really with a face to put to it, but the body language was there and it was screaming louder than a hawk on the hunt. A part of her actually felt something regarding that, a maternal instinct she had but often shoved down, but she held back. Who was she to offer any sort of aid to a stranger? Looking back to Jon now, she offers a broad, charming smile. "They/Them... there are times when I feel that would be suitable for me as well," she offers, taking another drink of her beer. "But I like having breasts too much to lean toward it. Thank you for sharing that though, and letting me know. I will ensure that from now on when I refer to you, you are they or them."
Jonathan Sims	Jon smiles to see the talk and reconciliation between the mutants, and sips the cognac held in that glowing emerald arm. "It confuses me on the best of days. Gender and all the rest. It... hurt, a lot, for a long time, hiding myself. And now I'm often thinking... why did I worry so much? Everyone's been supportive thus far. But yeah, I'm going official." He grins at Lydia, for a moment, then looks to Mystique. "You can be 'they' while having breasts, it's more about... mmm, self-image? What feels right, to you."     Then his gaze shifts over toward where Phoebe's walking away. "I never know the right thing to say to her," he says softly. "I wish... I wish I knew how to help. What she needs. She deserves better than life's given her, and I just wish I could... I don't know. Shake everyone that's hurt her. Show her how much we all care about her." He reaches up to rub at his face, even while holding the bottle.
Lydia Dietrich	"I know," Lyida tells Clarice. "I can smell fear. Well, no. That's not quite it. I can smell increased perspiration, and see the dilation of the pupils and hear the increased beating of the heart as the body decides if it wants to fight or flee. It.... all kind of mixes together and comes off as a kind of... tangy, metallic scent." She shakes her head. "I don't know how else to describe it." She gives her sister a soft smile, "But it's okay. We were still new to it. /Somebody/ had to be cautious."     She gives Raven a considering look. "You can be a they/them if you like. It wouldn't bother me. It would kind of make sense, too. I would love you either way."     She gives another glance to Phoebe's retreating form. She can still see her, after all, she /is/ a creature of the night, but it doesn't take long before she's just a speck of light. "I know," she tells Jon. "Giving her space feels like abandoning her, and offering help seems like crowding her."
Clarice Ferguson	Clarice nods in response to Lydia, giving her a small smile. Talk of the time when Lydia died is still not her favorite memory. "I suppose one of us did," she agrees. "But it caused tension, and pain, and I wish it hadn't. That's all."     Her gaze flicks after Phoebe again, before fixing on Jon, and Lydia again. "Well - I hope you can figure it all out for her. I doubt I can help - I barely know her after all. But iff there is anything I can do..." Between her duties to the Brotherhood, and the Royal Family. And her education. And her own family.
Mystique	Although her yellows eyes linger on Jon, a smile playing on her lips, Raven's mind is wandering through a few of the better memories of her past. She has always been either or, male and female, taking on numerous identities to achieve her goals, and sometimes just to play around... one night as Wonder Woman. Her smile twitches mischievously as she looks to Lydia. At her core though, she was both and neither, and what pronoun used didn't really matter. "I hope she finds a path to walk that is better for her," she finally says, eyes shifting back to the direction Phoebe went for just a moment. "In the mean time, all anyone can do is offer assistance to her, and if she takes it, try to help. If she doesn't," she shrugs slightly. "Then there's nothing to be done about it." Lifting the bottle back to her lips for another drink, she let's out a soft sigh. "It's a nice night, and I'm grateful this ritual helped you Lydia, you as well Jon," she offers another smile, less mischief, more sincerity. "At some point we will have to have the dinner out, but for now... it's nice to be among friends." She pauses for a moment, eyes on Jon. "I hope you don't mind me calling you that."
Jonathan Sims	"I'm glad Chas is back," Jon asserts. "He seems to know what to do to help her. And she's got other friends, people in Gotham. I just... well. I shouldn't need to directly help people, but I do. I'm working on that." He gestures to the fire.     A long drink of cognac, and then, "Your people helped a great deal against the angels... and your fiance is my friend. So I'm glad to be friends." He grins. "So long as you can put up with me worrying from time to time."     He looks to Clarice. "That reminds me... you doing well, after Manhattan? I don't recall you getting hurt or anything, but you worked overtime with those portals."
Lydia Dietrich	Lydia reaches out with her unoccupied hand and brings Clarice in for a hug. "You had everybody's best interest in mind," she says. "We were all too wrapped up in our own personal drama to see what you saw. /This/ is why Raven made you second in command, you know."     "Let me have a taste of that," Lydia says, pulling the bottle of beer out from Raven's hands to take a sip. "Mmm. Still not much of a beer drinker, I guess," she says and hands the bottle back. "I'll stick to my wine and Manhattans."     She chuckles at Jon. "We're so much alike in that regard. We worry over people the people we care about." She points to herself, "Vampire mom," and then points to Jon, "Ma'at Parent."
Clarice Ferguson	"Because I'm not afraid to stand up to her," Clarice answers Lydia with a broad, amused smile. "In //private// as much as possible, I //know//." She hasn't always walked that part of the line well enough, she's aware of it. But she's trying, and always improving.     Her attention shifts back to Jon as she remarks, "Redirecting some of those blasts through portals was... surprisingly exhausting. I'll admit, I never really experienced something like that before. But I slept it off - a long while back. I'm fine now, I promise you," she remarks, before finishing off her glass of cognac.
Mystique	Raven smirks slightly at Lydia's comment. There were numerous reasons why she choose Clarice as her second, the primary one being she saw the potential, but she also knew it was be years before the magenta mutant was actually ready. "I have multiple reasons for my choice of a second," she comments almost idly. "Big mouth is not one of them." Then she grins, the indication of teasing in it. "I was glad to help Jon," she then says, looking back to him. "I realize my reputation tarnishes everything I get near, and that most can't believe that I've changed, even slightly... and that's fine. If they don't want to see the truth, so be it, their loss... also, why would you worry about me?"
Jonathan Sims	"I do rather like 'Thoth Dad,'" Jon says idly, glancing the way Phoebe left. "'Ma'at Parent' doesn't have quite the same ring to it, even if it's more accurate. But... that's why I'd worry. I just do! I worry." He downs the rest of the cognac and hands the glass back over to be put away wherever it came from, murmuring his thanks.     "I'm glad you're good, Clarice. As for the Brotherhood's reputation..." Jon shrugs. "I'm rather past that, mostly. I had a dream the other night that... terrified me, but reminded me of one of the things I left down in Duat." They wrinkle their nose. "It involved being eaten by a giant bull. Geb, god of the earth. Which, ugh. Not pleasant. But I remember... when I came up out of that, I knew I'd screamed in terror and pain, and I didn't... care. I was the Great God Ra, and that wasn't going to change just because getting eaten alive hurt. Of course it hurt!"     He frowns. "I'm not saying it right. I just mean... I used to worry, all the time, about what people thought of me. Whether they took me 'seriously' or not. Now..." He shrugs. "Plenty of people with 'good' reputations walked away and refused to help. The Brotherhood was there in Manhattan, and I for one won't forget that. I mean, I head up the Justice League /Dark/, we're not supposed to be... selling merchandise or inspiring people. We're not the Justice League or the Avengers. We do things they can't do, and employ people who have 'shady' reputations. People who've made pacts with demons, dark sorcerors, that sort of thing. I don't care what people /think/, though. I care... are we doing the right thing? Helping people?"
Lydia Dietrich	"It took me a while to see Raven for who she is," Lydia says, squeezing her main squeeze. "I admit that I was /not/ a fan when we first actually met." She looks up at Raven and asks, "I think I called you a monster? I meant it, too." She looks back over at Jon. "She even offered for me to handcuff her and turn her in to the police. Not in a snarky sneery kind of way, but in a /sincere/ kind of way. I had no idea what to do with that."     "But, as I told her, I believe that one deserves a chance at redemption if one is willing to seek it out, and she showed me that she was serious about it." She leans her head affectionately against her fiance. "I like to think that we rubbed off on each other. I polished some of her sharp angles, and she gave me some of my own."
Clarice Ferguson	"My education certainly wasn't one of the reasons," Clarice adds with amusement. "But... yeah, the Brotherhood will always do what it has to for the good of Mutant kind. And making sure we continue to have a planet Earth, and a reality... well. It's a no-brainer."     "We were outside of Mootant Milkshakes - recruiting for Bushwick's neighborhood watch," she adds with amusement.
Mystique	Raven gives Clarice a 'look', this one being the 'don't be down on yourself about your education'. "Actually Clarice," she snorts softly. "Your lack of education was one of the reasons I choose you. I knew from that, you were eager to learn and being a leader means learning on the fly, while reading everything you can, keeping track of everything else, and wearing numerous hats at the same time. You're always so down on yourself about something you had no control over... you should probably stop that." Now she looks over at Lydia and kisses her forehead lightly. "You just wanted to see Wonder Woman wrap me in a golden lasso, that's the real reason you fell for me. It was sexy, admit it." The getting arrested part afterward maybe not, but still. Taking another drink of her beer, savoring the flavor, her yellow eyes return to Jon. "I worry about a hundred things at once, and that's not including the people that mean something to me and those they care about," she offers him a smile with a 'what can you do' sort of shrug. "It's what we do, when we have to lead and ensure the safety of those around us and those we fight for. I'll admit openly that I care more about mutants than humans, but I /do/ care about some humans, which is a major improvement from over a year ago. Because I care, at all, the Brotherhood will care and be there. Some, like Clarice and Lydia are openly accepting, others require a firm reminder of who is in charge, but in the end, do what needs to be done."
Jonathan Sims	Jon nods in agreement with Raven, about Clarice's education. "Take it from someone who's got twelve years of /post/ secondary education... there's plenty of people who have advanced degrees that barely deserve them. Far smarter people than I didn't have the money to go to university. I won't knock education, I think it's important, but it's the /learning/ that's important, not where or when you got it. Don't let anyone make you feel lesser just because you don't know something they do. You helped us save the world, so they can sod right off."     He smiles at Lydia and Mystique cuddling, taking a drink of the beer now. "You're good for each other. You have that... vibe. Which reminds me... have you set a date?"
Lydia Dietrich	"I still go on patrol!" Lydia says with a grin. "Not as much as I used to, but I make sure I'm out in Bushwick at least once a week to patrol. I also spend that time doing maintenance on Baruch." There's equal amounts of pride and spite in Lydia's words. "That fucking flesh goblin was /so sure/ that he would go berserk within a month and be killing babies, shows you what /he/ knew."     She leans to Raven's kiss. "See? She cares. A lot of people don't think she does, but she does. Most people don't see her the way I do, but I'm one of the few people who are privileged enough to really /know/ her." She reaches up to stroke Raven's jaw affectionately. "It's frustrating, sometimes, but I'm learning to live with it."     Speaking of Clarice's learning, "I'm Clarice's English tutor," she says. "When we started she was at around third grade level. That was a year ago. Now she's working through seventh grade assignments. I may be a harsh taskmistress, but I'm really proud of the progress she's made."     Jon's question about the date has her shaking her head. "Not yet. It really depends on the venue that we decide on and its availability. We're in no rush, though."
Clarice Ferguson	"I //wasn't// eager to learn back then," Clarice points out. "I only started learning because Lorna insisted on it, and required I turn in my assignments to her. I... hated it. Didn't see the point, and I was embarrassed. I mean, obviously that's all changed now. I'm pretty proud of myself now, actually. Another year or two - and maybe I'll give the GED a try."     Smiling at Lydia she adds, "I always appreciate your help, Lydia. I wouldn't have gotten this far on my own."
Mystique	Raven understood why Lydia might be frustrated by the fact that the blue mutant didn't show her real self ninety percent of the time, but it was a very, very hard thing for her to do. She'd been burned and hurt and nearly killed so many times by people who claimed to care, claimed to accept her, that it really was a defense mechanism with a reason. As Lydia strokes her face, she leans in to place a soft kiss on her lips. "I am sorry about that," she admits quietly. "I am trying to be more... open, but it's a difficult thing for me. Too many skeletons in my closet I guess." "I think you are doing fantastic Clarice," she then offers with a smile. "But you need not be anyone but yourself, and only should learn what you are interested in." The final comment comes with a chuckle, "Four to six months, depending on venue, but Lydia is right that we aren't in a hurry. It's going to take me time because she sealed my loophole and I actually have to think about things now."
Jonathan Sims	Jon grins, and tips the beer bottle toward Clarice. "Well, cheers. That's something to be proud of, even if you didn't want to at first. And Lydia's an excellent teacher. I can reliably ward against hedgehogs /and/ angels, now. Working my way up to moles. Nasty buggers."     A nod, to the commentary about a date. "Sealed your loophole?" A smirk. "Did you try to pull the old 'oh, honey, I want whatever you want' business? I try that with Martin--he's honestly better with fabrics and the like than I am--and he huffs and goes 'well fine but if you don't come help you don't /ever/ get to grouse about it' which means of course I'll come, because I'm constitutionally incapable of grousing."
Lydia Dietrich	Lydia returns Clarice's smile. "You're a wonderful student, too, you know. You're clever and you pick up on things easily. You're determined when you set your mind to something. It's a joy."     Lydia returns Raven's kiss, letting out a little hum of pleasure. "Mmm. Speaking of joy, I keep telling you it's /our/ wedding. My dream wedding would mean nothing without a little bit of you in it."     She laughs with Jon, "Something like that. So I made her a deal. I'll name one thing I want for the wedding and she'll name another, no matter how big or how small. We've settled on a comfortable compromise. I'm making all the big decisions, but she's adding little flourishes of Raven here and there." She gets a little wicked gleam in her eye, "It'll be a contest to see who can figure out which bits belong to her."
Clarice Ferguson	"What I WANT is to be my GED," Clarice insists firmly. "After that... We see. I hate fractions, though. How often do people really do math with fractions?" she asks, letting out a sigh. The. Worst."     With a broad smirk she adds, "You should let Pete plan some of it. He would //love// that." There's a broad, amused smile at the thought of Pete planning the event - even in part.
Mystique	Raven laughs rather loudly, and open as she gestures toward Jon with the beer bottle. "That is /exactly/ what I said. I've been married before, so I thought this time around Lydia should have whatever she wanted. Boy did /that/ plan fail on me. I'm not real good with details, or little things, but I'm willing to try. So far I've managed German beer at the reception, and the cake will be chocolate with raspberry filling."