Owner	Pose
Jonathan Sims	Jon's not hard to find lately; he's been spending a lot of time in the Velvet Room, at least during the day. In the evenings he goes home, but most of the day he spends poking around the grounds or in the library reading. So if someone's looking for him, well, the training room might be the /third/ place they'd look, but close to the top.     Today he's set up the Training Room as something of a blast range, similar to what one might find at SHIELD HQ, but with the Eye of Horus painted on the walls, a subconscious addition out of a desire to protect the outside from whatever he's doing. He's got a gallon Ziploc bag covered in hieroglyphs and full of fluffy white feathers sitting on a small table behind the blast shield (also inscribed with the Eye of Horus), his staff, and a thermos full of tea. Down the range is a single white feather sitting on a pedastal. Evidently he's planning to... blow the thing up? Maybe?
Sara Pezzini	Sara had given it most of a day, letting the information Cael shared rumble around in her head and going back and forth between anger and acceptance. It just didn't settle with her, no matter how many angles she looked at it from, and Witchblade's anger was worse than her own. Finally, she reached a decision on the next course of action and that resulted in her beginning the search for Jon's location. It was true, she could have just called him, but she feared that would lead to screaming at him over the phone. She didn't want to scream, and she didn't want to lose her temper, she wanted to talk. To talk meant looking him in the eyes, because that was the only way she was going to keep her calm. She started by checking some of the usual 'in reality' location, and when he wasn't at any of them, she headed to the Velvet room. The library was checked first because, well... it's Jon. He likes books, right? Next was the garden, a room she didn't even know existed but then she hadn't really explored this place. The training room was in fact the last room she checked, because she had checked all the others. She didn't expect to actually find him there, in fact she didn't even know it was a training room until she stepped into it. Stopping just inside the door, she takes a single moment to realize he's doing something that might not be a good idea to interrupt, so she waits. Folding her arms across her chest, she leans against the wall and watches what he's doing.
Jonathan Sims	It may seem that Jon doesn't notice Sara at first; her mind /is/ very well-shielded by Witchblade, after all. He's got his staff out, held in his glowing emerald hand, and he rests it firmly on the floor without looking over. But he /does/ shout, "Fire in the hole!" before calling down energy over where the single feather sits, so maybe he did notice. Or maybe it's just an abundance of caution.     Energy pours into the feather in a column summoned from the ceiling, a /lot/ of energy, pure blinding white light. Not holy energy, really, just magic, but it pours onto the feather as Jon watches, gaze intent. The feather seems to swell, and warp, and twist...     And then suddenly, with a loud detonation, it explodes! The blast rattles the clear shield in between the two people and the blast area, but doesn't do much more. Within the blast range is another matter: pedastal and feather are both gone, and there's scorch marks covering the whole area as if he'd exploded several sticks of C4.     "Well," Jon says as the smoke on the other side of the blast screen clears. "That worked. A little /too/ well, I'd say." He looks around at Sara with a wry grin. "Hope I didn't startle you."
Sara Pezzini	The warning was enough to prepare Sara for the end result, the leading up to it was another matter. She watched as the column of light hit the feather, the first though crossing her mind one of humor regarding the use of exploding chickens, but as the energy continues to flow the humor in her thought fades. She didn't know why Jon was empowering a feather toward an explosion, but he clearly has his reasons. When the feather does blow, she stands up a little straighter, not aware there is protection between it and herself, but Witchblade knew. No armor appeared in the moment before the explosion, so clearly she was safe. "Not really," she replied, one brow raised. "What did that feather and pedestal ever do to you?"
Jonathan Sims	"Nothing in particular." Jon gestures to the bag of feathers. "These are all that's left of a Dominion we fought in St. John the Divine. I gathered the feathers thinking they might be useful... and hopefully they will. I'm testing to see whether..." He hesitates, frowns. "Chas is about the same power level as a Dominion," he notes after a moment. "I want to see if my shields can contain the explosion in case... well, in case he goes nova. I've been told it's possible. This seemed like a better idea than pushing my friend to literally explode."     The frown fades into a grin. "Isn't this place amazing, though? I thought of 'blast range for magic' and it gave me this. I imagine we could set up all sorts of things... urban combat training, hikes through the wilderness, flying practice courses. Whatever we might need."     They grab up the thermos and add, "That... took a lot out of me, though. Going to need a bit before I can try again, /and/ maintain a barrier around the feather. What'd you need?"
Sara Pezzini	Leaning back against the wall again, Sara's arms remain folded across her chest. Witchblade was already screaming in her head, but she had that tucked into a corner for the time being. "Probably not a good idea to go, 'Hey Chas, would you explode for me so I can test something out?'." She chuckles, then adds, "That would be like going, 'Hey Johnny, flame up so I can roast some marshmallows.' See also, over kill." She smirks slightly, then steps away from the wall. "You want to go sit down and rest while we talk?" She asks, looking back down the range to the location the feather had been in. "That's what I was looking for you for... to talk, though if you'd rather stay here, that's fine too."
Jonathan Sims	Jon chuckles. "Well, it's for Chas' benefit; if we know I can contain an explosion, we know it's safe for him to spar with people. He broke Phoebe's jaw the other day, and that was /with/ a shield up, evidently. If I can't contain it... we'll have to look at other options."     He considers for a moment and then shrugs and says to the room at large, "Can I get a couple of chairs?" The room provides, evidently, a pair of blue velvet-covered armchairs like might have been out in the other room showing up.     "I'd rather not leave all this just sitting here," they note as they go to sit down, "and anyway, if you're looking for me to talk I expect it needs to be private...?" They raise their eyebrows. "Something going on?"
Sara Pezzini	Both of Sara's brow raise at hearing sparring lead to Phoebe getting a broken jaw. She wasn't certain entirely what needed containing, but she still says, "Witchblade might be able to contain it." without hesitation. And then Jon is asking for chairs and they appear, and that just sets her brain back one step. She knew this place wasn't reality, it was astral, but she wasn't aware she could just talk to it and get things. Truth was, she didn't know anything about this space, just accepted it was there and they were using it. Walking over to one of the chairs, she lays her hand on the back of it to make sure it's real. When it is, she steps around and sits down down. "Private's a really good idea, yes," she then says, still keeping the calm. "I need to know what happened with Javier," she then states, looking over at Jon. "Because what happened, isn't what was supposed to happen, and it's taking a /lot/ of my willpower and strength to contain Witchblade over it."
Jonathan Sims	Jon frowns for a moment at the statement, taking a long drink from his thermos. The first thing is says is, "Well, I've got plenty of feathers. We can see if Witchblade can contain it; more would be better."     He drums his fingers on the arm of the chair for a moment, then said, "I take it Cael told you I killed him?" A pause. "I'm not sure what you mean by what was 'supposed' to happen. Cael told me to go, and asked me to give him a chance. He got a chance. He refused to take it."     He sighs, and rubs at his face, then says, "I followed him to a Trinitario safehouse--he'd paid them off to track Cael and keep him safe. The NYPD never would've found him; they were going to lay low and then slip him out by car. I was able to follow him by... I could see a trail of light. Ma'at tracked him, really. I brought Moon Knight along, and he took the back door while I went to the front. There were two other people there, I wanted to give them a chance to leave. They did not."     He's not looking at Sara, relaying what happened in clipped, crisp syllables. "There was a fight. I killed one of the men, in self-defense; Moon Knight took care of the body. The other fled. Then I took Javier's statement. He... he was a real piece of work, Sara. He'd murdered at least a dozen people, he /reveled/ in killing. He'd raped and assaulted, too. But I gave him a chance. I showed him how people around him felt--the love his family had for him, the fear and pain of his victims."     Jon finally looks at Sara. "You know what he told me? That's just how the world is. Predators and prey. That his victims /deserved/ what they got, for being weak. So I called down the power of Sekhmet, and I killed him." He doesn't sound happy about that, but it /is/ rather matter-of-fact.
Sara Pezzini	As Jon speaks, Sara closes her eyes. It was easier to let the information transfer through her mind to Witchblade when all she had to do was listen. No focusing on faces or staring off in to range, just darkness and the words, each word soaking in like water into a sponge. It was easier for her to accept the death of some ganger than it was for Witchblade, that was the hardest part of this. "Cael wanted him to go to prison," she comments quietly, still calm and her eyes still closed. "That is part of what Witchblade and I fixated on, what Cael wanted." She has to take a deep, slow breath, feel the air in her lungs before letting it out and opening her eyes. Just looking at her it was obvious she was fighting an inner battle, and thus far was winning. "I need you to understand this isn't about me, not completely," she then explains. "I wanted the kid to go to prison, but what you just said... no regret, no guilt, a predator, a monster. I get it... but Witchblade..." She had to pause again, her rolling her neck as if stretching the muscles while her hands remain firmly in her lap, pressed against her own thighs unmoving. "He is the protector of human beings, he protects them from the things in this world that aren't meant to be here, aren't meant to interfere with their lives." Her voice remains calm, but there is a tightness to it. "Humans are meant to deal with humans, and he is meant to deal with everything else. His creation was to be a Godslayer, and he did that for his mother and father, he restored the balance and as his reward, he was send to earth to protect his mother's children... humans." She has to take another slow breath, then finally looks over at him, "I hope I am expressing this correctly, that I'm using the right words because... he wants revenge for you killing Javier. He says it wasn't your place, that your goddess was not Javier's goddess, and... so many other things in my head, Jon. He's rambling his anger like a caged animal." She shakes her head a touch, as if trying to clear it but it never ends. "I need you to explain to him, to some how make him understand, because even I don't fully understand how it was your right to kill Javier."
Jonathan Sims	"If I hadn't killed him, if I'd compelled him to turn himself in--and that's what I would have had to do, that or haul him to the police station--one of two things would happen. Well, one of three--one option is that he doesn't even go to prison," Jon notes, quietly. "But if he does? Then either he gets killed in prison, or he becomes part of the system inside. He gains more power. So either I'm letting the guy get more powerful or he dies anyway. Would it have been /more/ right to send him to prison, just to be killed there?"     He shakes his head. "Witchblade is not the /only/ thing that exists to protect humans. /I/ exist to protect humans, as well. That's what the Archivist was created for, long ago--by an aspect of Witchblade's mother, I will note. In the same sort of vein: to give humans a way to protect themselves against things that would harm them. But I am not a 'godslayer' or anything like that; I exist to keep balance and bring justice, period. Some of the worst atrocities in history have been perpetuated by mortals, and the Archivists have had to be witness to that."     He regards Sara for a moment and then says, "Ma'at may not be Javier's goddess--but Ma'at is /Cael's/ goddess, now. The gods of the Duat welcomed Cael and her sister into their fold. Even if Cael doesn't worship them, they owe her a debt, and a responsibility. Moreover, I live in this city, and my gods have a temple in this city, whatever gods anyone worships. The Archivists haven't lived in Egypt for nearly two thousand years now; we're well beyond the idea that we can only judge other Egyptians."     He shakes his head. "And frankly? Witchblade's wrong, about the gods not 'interfering' in human lives. The gods interfere /all the time/. If I am not meant to be here, then /he/ is not meant to be here. And neither is Johnny, and neither is... I could go on. And on, and on, and /on/. Regardless, the point is, I don't answer to Witchblade, and I am not the only person empowered by gods going about meting out extrajudicial punishment."     He snorts. "At least I /know/ Javier was guilty. That's not a luxury the NYPD would have afforded three Latino gang members. If I'd gone in wearing that uniform, I could have killed them all, claimed self defense, maybe planted some drugs, and walked away with no questions. So excuse me if I don't have much faith in the system."
Sara Pezzini	Once again Sara closes her eyes while Jon is speaking, letting the words sink in like ink on paper, letting them strike at Witchblade. She was well aware that he lacked understanding, that he spent too much of his time alone, working alone, and this, what Jon was saying /needed/ to get to him, needed to sink in. If he perceived cruelty in Jon's words, it was needed, because it was the truth. She never truly understood Ma'at or the job of the Archivist, she didn't need to because she trusted Jon... Witchblade was another matter. Sitting there for a short while after Jon finished speaking, he can watch her body relax just a little and witness the tension begin slip away from her muscles and face. "Thank you," she finally breaths out and opens her eyes to look at him. "I didn't mean to put that on you like that, words aren't my strongest suit really," she then admits, guilt in her eyes. "But I'm really sorry for having to do it. I didn't know any other way to make him understand, because I didn't fully understand." Once more she rolls her neck, this time to relieve the muscles from the tension they'd been under. "In many ways Witchblade is like a child. When he doesn't know or understand something, there are two possible reactions. He pouts and demands answers be found, or he throws a temper tantrum. I'll admit I was angry over you killing Javier, but that anger was from lack of full information, and that's why I wanted to talk to you, to know the facts." She almost chuckles, but comes out a sort of chuff-snort. "Witchblade just got angrier and angrier, and right now he's debating everything you just said, but he's doing it a little more quietly. You're right, you don't answer to him, but in /his/ mind, everyone should. See my problem?" After another moment of silence, she reaches up to run her fingers through her hair and push it back at the same time. "As I said... this was for him, not me. I trust you, and you answered the one questions I had about all of it."
Jonathan Sims	Jon sighs. "I'm not... I'm not going to run around judging and killing mortals if I can help it. And more importantly to Witchblade, neither is Ma'at. She was far more likely to let Javier go if Cael had turned out to be the first person he'd killed, or if he'd been willing to change. I wanted revenge... Ma'at wanted justice."     He looks down at his hands. "At the same time, she has no remorse for what was done, while I cannot express the... depths of my distaste for the whole matter. She looks at it as protecting future victims, and gaining justice for those he killed. At least we're in agreement that the Alhambras need to be stopped, for Cael's safety, but as to /how/... well. Rien and Robbie offered to 'take care of it,' but I don't know..." He shakes his head. "I don't know. I really don't. And I do /not/ like people offering to do something so I'll have a 'clean conscience.' That's not how I work."     He shakes his head. "I'm not upset for having to explain, I just... it's not... I'm not /happy/ about it, about any of it. I'm... I don't know. Javier bothers me, but not... not as much as the other man. Munoz. /That's/ the one that's haunting my dreams. I don't even know... did he deserve to die? Was he actually a good man, trying to protect a friend? I don't..."
Sara Pezzini	It was getting easier to breath, and to think clearly. Sara could feel Jon's words reaching out and slapping against Witchblade's stubbornness. If it had been anyone else out there, it was likely that she would not have been able to get Witchblade to listen, but because it was Jon, someone he respected, Witchblade listened. "I gave Cael a thumb drive with every piece of information on the Alhambras I could obtain in a week, with the help of a former Phoenix Gang Task Force officer." She continues, choosing that subject to focus on now that the tension was mostly gone in her mind. "While I was there, in Phoenix, I considered handling it myself, just... taking out the leaders, but gangs are a lot like Hydra, remove one head and another rises." She sighs, rubbing her face. "That and... I was there as a police officer, not the wielder, I just... I couldn't do it." Canting her head a little, she adjusts in the chair so she a little more comfortable and settles her eyes on Jon again. "And that's the root of the problem. Cael doesn't want a blood bath, and we shouldn't just go in there to kill the entire gang. We're going to have to be tactical about this Jon, we are going to have to ensure that those who face punishment are one, involved with what Javier did. Two, truly bad people, that they've done something to deserve the possible end that is coming, and three, protect those who haven't done anything wrong and just cling to the gang because there /is/ nothing else for them." Sighing softly, her mind start formulating plans with in plans, none of which are voiced, it just give her something to focus the anxiety on. "Javier may have been working alone, it may have been a personal grudge, but my gut tells me that's not the case, but even so..." she shakes her head. "Tactics Jon, preplanning, stake outs, perhaps a telepath... but in the end, we have to decide do we will or do we just punish... because I want to kill them all, but Witchblade is still thinking along the lines of letting humans deal with humans." She pauses there for only a moment and a smile creeps across her face, "I stand corrected... /you/ changed his mind on that, regarding the Alhambras."
Jonathan Sims	"He was not working alone," Jon says firmly. "They will send others after Cael, as an example if nothing else. For /me/, my personal concern is less with who may or may not be 'at fault' and more with just convincing them that it's not worth the trouble to go after her. If keeping Cael safe means I have to personally kill every damn member of that gang, well, so be it." They shake their head. "But gods know I don't /want/ to do that. I'd /rather/ we just... I don't know, go down there and put the fear of God in them and nobody else has to die."     He snorts, then, and says, "I don't know why he's listening to me in particular, but... I'm honored, I suppose? I'm such a mess most of the time I'm surprised anyone listens to me, but I do manage to muddle through somehow. I can't tell if Ma'at's helping with that or not yet."     A frown. "I've been debating whether or not I should go down there. As Rien pointed out, I'm a rather public figure... and Javier, he..." The frown deepens. "He called me the Antichrist. One of the Trinitarios called me a devil worshipper. People know who I am, Sara. And... a lot of them..." He shakes his head. "I'm not going to apologize for the war, or fighting angels. I don't care what they think, per se. But I also don't know if I'd just be more of a distraction than a help."
Sara Pezzini	Sara leans forward, watching Jon's face as she speaks. She can see the turmoil there, she can almost feel it and she remembers that exact same sensation from three years ago. Of course this was hard on him, he went through two changes in less than half a year, and one of those changes linked his soul to a goddess. She knows better than to touch him, so instead of doing that, she lays her hand on the arm of his chair. "It doesn't matter if your a public face, I am too now," she begins. "What matters is keeping your head on the mission, You know as well as I do that you /have/ to go. I have to go. /We/ have to do this Jon, but... you don't have to do it alone. You don't have to stand out in the middle of the streets of Phoenix and draw attention to yourself. If we're doing this, we're going all in, we're planning it out and then we're committing to the decision. If that's death for all of them, then so be it, but we'll do it together."" A small smile appears on her face. "I know what you're going through right now, I mean I literally /know/. Everything is different, and I don't mean the stuff that's expected to be different, I mean all the little things. The way you look something as simple as a flower. It's not just a flower any more, it's a spark of creation and the birth of beauty that will wither and die... maybe not specifically, but I think you get my meaning. Let me help you, if I can, as someone who has gone through it."
Jonathan Sims	"And what if my being there makes them more likely to fight than to listen? What if it gets more people killed? If I can keep Cael safe better by staying here in New York with her, isn't that what I should do?"     Jon sighs, and rests his head back against the back of the chair. "I don't know if it's Ma'at I'm struggling with, necessarily. She's... calmer than I am. More likely to keep her head in the mission. But merged with her... I cannot hide from myself anymore, lie to myself, avoid unpleasant truths. Truths like... I am, it turns out, a very angry person. I am willing to violate any oath I've made to keep Cael Becker happy." A snort. "For all the shit I give the Ghost Riders and Witchblade I'm a hell of a lot like them. Things like that."     They turn to look at Sara. "You had to get separated from Witchblade to truly come to terms with him... if I get separated from Ma'at, I might die. But I do know what you mean. I know /exactly/ what you mean." He waves a hand. "I can see... threads around you, or maybe light paths. Things you might do, things you will do, the way fate might go. When Cael was dead, I saw it too. That it was her fate to die in that alley--not a fate the gods had decreed but just a natural outcome of her actions. I think that was the worst part of it all, that feeling of helplessness in the face of... just... cause and effect. Well. That and not being able to heal her. I should've been able to heal her."
Sara Pezzini	Pulling her hand back, Sara sighs quietly. In many ways he was right, it might be a good idea for him to stay and protect Cael, but she also knew he would never forgive himself if he wasn't there and something happened. It wasn't a great situation no matter which angle you looked at it. "Love changes things," she states bluntly as she looks at him. "You love Cael, and that means you would move heaven, hell and earth to keep her happy and safe. It's also the reason that when it comes to Cael, you can't be trusted to lead... not because you suddenly stop being a trustworthy person, but because you might make a decision based entirely on your emotions." She considers then adds, "Like leaving a hospital room ten or so minutes before you should have." There, she said it... moving on. "That separation..." she rubs her face again. "That was rough, but it was extremely education for /him/. Yes, it helped me come to terms with being his wielder, but it forced him to realize that he's not the most powerful thing in the world, that people beyond his wielder /do/ matter, and finally that he hates being alone, so has to learn to sometimes compromise." The last topic was one she felt both from him and Cael, that he couldn't heal her in that alley. She could understand Jon's anger and being upset over it, but he was always hard on himself when it came to Cael... emotions over logic once again. "Why should you have been able to heal her?" She asks bluntly. "In what situation, anywhere have you healed someone with that severe of wounds before? If I remember correctly, you've only had the ability to heal for less than a year, you've had /no/ time to really practice save for quick heals of non-life threatening wounds. So, apply the logic and answer the question... why should you have been able to heal her?"
Jonathan Sims	Jon smirks for a moment. "Hey, I apologized for that. We talked about it, actually. She just couldn't... ask for what she needed. So she told me what she needs in those situations. I hope I'll do better in future."     He sighs, then, a long breath in and a long breath out. "Because my magic comes from my beliefs and my knowledge--and I am a /medical doctor/, Sara. If I should be able to do /one/ thing well, it's healing. That's... literally what I trained for, for twelve years. It's the only job I've had as an adult. Healing people. My husband is an EMT, and insisted I practice emergency first aid, because I was the one home with our daughter. I know exactly what would have been done in an ER to treat Cael, even if I haven't done the work myself."     He sighs again. "And I /have/ healed life-threatening wounds, but that was when I had Gaea's power. Still..." He rubs a hand along his face. "I know I have the power to heal stronger wounds than I have been, because Ma'at healed Cael's hands after she burned them with Hellfire."     He shakes his head. "The reason I didn't know what to do is that I haven't /focused/ on that. A year ago I knew far less about staff fighting or energy blasts or wielding a khopesh than I did about anatomy and wound care. The problem I'm having is that my knowledge is /getting in the way/. I froze, because I use water to heal and there was blood in her lungs, and I couldn't think about how to handle that. I've figured it out since--hyperoxegenate the water so it's breathable while I draw out the blood and accelerate natural clotting to heal the jugular. I could figure out a /lot/ of these things, but I haven't been taking the time--and I haven't been taking the time because I figured, with you and Phoebe around, I didn't /need/ to."     He gives Sara a flat look. "Neither you nor Phoebe have taken the Hippocratic Oath. I have. If I'd failed because it was Cael and I panicked, that's one thing. I failed because I, a /doctor/, decided to focus more on learning to fight people than on properly healing them."
Sara Pezzini	Very slowly Sara cants her head. "Christ you are hard on yourself Jon," she says softly, but bluntly. "You do not give yourself an inch, not a single inch. You hold yourself to an insanely high standard that frankly, is killing you a little at a time." Perhaps it was too blunt, but it's what she saw. "Yes, you're a doctor... but you aren't perfect. Even with all your knowledge and healing ability, you are not perfect and you /need/ to cut yourself some slack. Because not only are you more angry than you realized, but you are also nearly cruel to yourself when you fail..." she raises a hand there. "... and before you say 'When I fail people die.' that changes nothing, because it's not every time." Looking down at her hands a moment, she breaths out then back in before saying, "On my honor, I will never Betray my integrity, my character Or the public trust. I will always have the courage to hold myself and others accountable for our actions. I will always maintain the highest ethical standards and uphold the values of my community, and the agency I serve." Then she looks up at him. "That's the oath I took Jon, and I've had to break it more times than I can count. It happens. We have to pick ourselves up,  realize our failures, learn from them, FORGIVE ourselves and keep going."
Jonathan Sims	Jon sighs. "Maybe you're right. That doesn't change the fact that the first thing I'm asking Uriel to teach me is how to better think about my healing. He's going to be helping me, he used to mentor the Archivists all the time, evidently. And maybe I'll never be as good of a healer as you or Phoebe... maybe I'd never be strong enough to save Cael. But I have to /try/."     He looks down at his hands. "She was so sure I was going to save her. I could /feel/ it... that absolute trust, and then... and then her panic when she realized I couldn't help..." He closes his eyes, letting a few tears fall. "Sorry, it's just... I've had to watch so many people I love die because I wasn't strong enough to save them. I have to work on forgiving myself for Agnes' mother, and Lyra, if I'm even going to consider Cael. At least then I had the excuse that I wasn't a bloody superhero."     A sniffle. "'That into whatever house I shall enter, it shall be for the good of the sick.'" They swallow. "That's the part I keep getting hung up on. I killed two men, and I couldn't save Cael. If it was just her that'd be one thing, but..." A frown. "How did you... how /do/ you..."     They sigh, and look up. "The other cop that I knew, that dealt with... 'weird' things... she let the power corrupt her. She did... /terrible/ things, to innocent people. You mostly stick to your integrity, even if you've had to break that oath. How do you reconcile... Witchblade and that oath?"
Sara Pezzini	Even as he is talking this time, Sara moves forward in her seat and once again lays her hand on the arm of his chair. She really wished she could be more supportive, could offer comfort of some kind and not just blunt words based on observation. This, the hand on the arm of the chair, it was as close as she could get to him for his comfort. "I lost my mother and my father," she begins, her voice low, touched with pain. "Then I lost my NYPD partner the night Witchblade choose me, and lost another partner because he was in my life. I've lost more friends on the force then I can count, I've watched so many people get taken away from me. I know your pain Jon," she reaches with her other hand to wipe at her eyes quickly. "It took Cael being nearly killed the first time for Witchblade to show me he could heal, before that... nothing, no idea, and so many died." She looks at her own hand on the chair. "But we can't let the pain of those we have lost dictate who we are and how we will act. We have to push past the pain and grief and use the power we have to do the right thing, even if that means killing two men to stop them from hurting yourself or anyone else again." "Neither of us asked for this for our lives. You were going to be a doctor, a psychologist, and help people. I was a cop, and that's all I had ever wanted to be, my whole life aimed toward serving the public in the uniform." She sits back slowly, against wiping away a tear as quickly as she can. "And that Jon, that's how I don't let the power corrupt me. Witchblade, for all his flaws, is a source of power aimed at serving the greater good by maintaining balance, by removing the corrupted monsters that have oozed into our reality." Lifting her head a little higher, perhaps a sense of pride showing she continues, "Those that these things touch become tainted, humans that touched the fire and got burned, but these are all things that the NYPD /can't/ handle. There's no jail that could hold them, no law that applies to them. That's how I reconcile, knowing that by using Witchblade to remove those things, I'm protecting humans, my community, my fellow officers, my friends, my planet."
Jonathan Sims	Jon frowns. "I lost my parents too. I don't blame myself for that. I was a child, I couldn't have done anything. It's the ones where I was there, /right/ there, and I froze or didn't know what to do or... made the wrong choice. I try to forgive myself, but it's hard."     He sighs, then. "I don't know how I feel about how I'm changing. What I'm becoming. I don't like the feeling that I'm just... shedding a persona I used to have. That the healer and the doctor isn't me, that the person who thinks Javier Hernandez getting burned to death was getting off /lightly/ is... who I really am. Gaea's Herself has told me I'm a good person and I can't seem to believe it."     He smiles, just a bit. "I'll get there, eventually. I just... I don't know. Maybe it's accepting that it really ought to be /me/ doing this. That it wouldn't have been better, if Ma'at had chosen another Avatar."     He looks back over at the blast area, and sighs. "I know one thing. If I could go back and tell myself whether to accept Ma'at, I'd say yes. If I had a choice about being Archivist or not... I'd choose being Archivist. I don't really hate what I'm doing--truth be told, I used to be rather jealous of the superheroes I knew. I'm just trying not to hate myself in the process. Which is a step up from wallowing in guilt and self-pity all the time, I guess."     Then he gets up, slapping his hands on his thighs. "I need to test this. Not that I mind talking--I don't--but I promised to help Chas figure things out." A smirk. "Now /there's/ a man who needs to stop wallowing in guilt and self-pity. He's having to adjust too, it's... a /lot/."
Sara Pezzini	Sara stands as Jon does, making sure not to get into his space when she does. "You just need to remember you aren't alone," she states. "That no matter how bad it gets in your own head, you have friends who will listen and try to help, and at least one friend who gets what you're going through." She glances down the range again. "We'll test Witchblade against that explosion when you're ready, and be one step closer to helping Chas maybe." She pauses before adding quietly. "I used to hate myself, and Witchblade. I used to loath that he choose me and I couldn't escape him. Now... now I get it, and I'm proud to be chosen, and I got through that with help from my friends."
Jonathan Sims	"I've hated myself since I was eight years old. It's taken a lifetime of work just to get to 'maybe I shouldn't hate myself so much.'" Jon smirks. "But I'll get there, eventually. With help."     He goes to grab a feather out of the Ziploc bag, holding it up for a moment and sighing. Then he walks over to put it on a newly-created pedestal in the center of the earlier blast zone. "Alright, time to test my barrier... and then we can test out Witchblade. I don't want to be the only one who can help Chas, or keep him in check if it comes to that. Teamwork, right?" He grins.