Owner	Pose
Phoebe Beacon	GOTHAM MUSEUM OF ANTIQUITIES     The main entrance of the Gotham Museum of Antiquities has been set up for a lavish preview of items taken from the Priest of Khonsu Tomb. The whole of the museum's old lobby has been done up with banners and tables of small, fancy foods -- roast beef canapes with horseraddish sauce, little onion and mushroom tarts made with a splash of wine. Glasses of sparkling, local wines from vinyards in New York and New Jeresy are set up on the table. There is a wetbar beneath a massive skull of a fossilized Irish Elk. A string quartet is playing, the music echoing creepily through the three floors of sweeping marble tiles.     Along the second floor of the main lobby, photographs of other items taken from the Tomb for display around the world, of the tomb itself, and in glass cases, covered by guards wearing navy blue suits and red ties, are a collection of artifacts. Small fired clay dolls, Tablets with early writing. Bits of beads made of clay and wood.     At the entrance, a guard is checking invitations. A couple of people have already been turned away at the door, wanting to take a look at the 'cursed stuff' coming out of Egypt.
John Constantine	Fancy shindigs, so not his thing. Yet here's Johnny, at the entrance, flashing his 'invitation'. It's really a public library card or maybe one of those 'punch for a free sandwich things from Subway or the like, but the guard sees it as exactly what he's supposed to see it as. An invitation to this... fancy shindig.     He's even dressed for it, nice suit and tie and all it. Of course it's all worn underneath that trench coat. Very few things would get John Constantine to leave that behind and this isn't one of them. But, like the card, what everyone *else* sees is a finely tailored black topcoat; just in case it rains.
Tim Drake	The thing about being a part of the Wayne social calendar is that sometimes, taking care of your share of the public obligations comes at really unfortunate times. Like today, when Tim would very much prefer to remain bundled up into a blanket burrito on the couch in one of stately Wayne Manor's many rooms... here he is instead.     Wearing black tie. The rest of his tuxedo is a dark midnight blue, though, aside for the black lapels, which is an extremely exciting development for Tim's wardrobe. Relatively. The paparazzi usually only see him in one of three different hoodies and jeans during his day-to-day, so the fact he's here cutting a sharp figure is noteworthy.     Tim is only barely looking like he actually wants to be here, though. He might have gotten some heals from Phoebe, but he's still sore, and not at all mentally recovered. But he's clutching a champagne glass of something fizzy (and non-alcoholic) as he contemplates a tablet.     Actually he's just letting his gaze go vaguely cross-eyed, but it's a very convincing performance of real interest.
Phoebe Beacon	"A pleasure, Detective Dover, please make your way inside." The guard states to John.     Phoebe is tailing John. She's not expecting any of her other friends to come to the event, and she was curious, though she's actually dressed in a blue dress, with gray colored lace gloves and gray heels. They don't look comfortable.     "Really. Benjamin Dover. What are you, Twelve?" Phoebe asks, her braids shorter, but she pauses just a moment to contemplate some of those tarts, and she gives a small huff of breath.     "So, cursed artifacts?" she asks, trip-trapping behind John.     Of course, her phone is in the vicinity of Gotham, so all of her friends know she's about.
Jason Todd	Jason would have skipped this event if it wasn't likely some rogue or another would try to knock off the exibit, which made it worth going to, barely. Besides after being 'dead' for so long it was time to stretch his legs as Jason Todd instead of one iteration or another of the Red Hood. Dressed in a tux that Alfred picked out for him, Jason skates on past the paparazzi without so much as a second look thrown his way. The advantages of his return not being common knowledge, so tonight he was just another rich guy in a tux. Giving a wiggle of his fingers at Tim as his brother has to deal with the limelight, Jason heads inside to score a drink and look about at the old junk behind the glass to see what there is to see.
Conner Kent	To say the truth Conner would prefer to have spent the afternoon watching a movie at Tim's theatre screen with the rest of the gang. Or maybe in one of the ESU college's events (read, parties). But well, at least he can write an article for the university website. Ancient Egyptian curses and mummies will always draw young readers' attention. Besides, he is going to spend the afternoon with friends; that is the important thing. Even if he had to dug out his tux from the bottom of the closet (it is also a little small for him).
Laura Kinney	With so many active threats to the Outsiders right now it's rare that Laura's team-mates go out in a group without a petite shadow. It's not strictly something anyone has ordered her to do, or have been informed about, but it keeps the mutant former assassin out of trouble. Well her own trouble anyway... Which is why today finds her on the rooftop of a Museum. One that's throwing a rather fancy event by the looks of things. Or at least what X-23 can see by peeking in through the skylights anyway..
Phoebe Beacon	The players are assembled, the music creeping through the room, canapes on offer, tarts, and now a platter of oysters on the half shell, served on ice in case you really want some slick salt-flavored nonsense.     There are some others here; one person vying for a seat on the City Council, wants to run for Mayor in the next cycle. A couple of young ladies who look at Tim and give little titters. A couple more who are looking Conner up and down, although one doesn't approve of the bad cut of his tux.     The second story has wandering butlers, who are bringing around trays of fresh bubbly and some cheese and fruit tarts to be passed around.
John Constantine	"Maybe," John replies vaguely. Phoebe should be used to it by now, the vague. Truth be told, were this any other random mention of curses, Chas might have been sent in John's stead. But the Egyptian-i-ness of it immediately caught his attention.     ...if only because of the little Beacon beside him. Her quip is pretty much ignored outside of a slight shrug and a curl of one side of his mouth into a half smile that's so barely there it might as well never have been.     Once through the doors, 'Inspector Dover' does what any good inspector might, he inspects... with his eyes wide open to things both here and 'there', both magical and mundane. Dividing his attention isn't easy, it's downright distracting. He places one hand on Phoebe's elbow, relying on her to be certain he doesn't bump into anyone and cause a scene by spilling too expensive champagne on even more too expensive clothing.
Tim Drake	The gossip blogs will certainly be suggesting Tim is dating someone else in attendance by the end of the night. Oh, look, he stood next to a tall, leggy blonde for a bit. She's definitely his girlfriend! Then she wanders away to go after the canapes, and Tim is once again alone.     Tragique. Maybe he'll have a sordid affair with one of his giggling on-lookers instead.     He glances over his shoulder, away from any potential dates, and gives Jason a blank stare, before he rolls his eyes and grins. At least Jason gets to have alcohol. The more of these Tim goes to, the more he realizes why so many people need to drink to get through them.     "Do you need the number for the Wayne family tailor?" he asks Conner once he's wandered his way over into his friend's general vicinity. Tim absolutely doesn't laugh, but only because he immediately takes a sip of... carbonated apple juice, or whatever it is they've given him. Something sweet and fizzy. After he polishes it off, he frowns down into the empty glass. Blegh.     Seeing Phoebe here is definitely not something Tim is expecting. Maybe he's expecting the looming presence of Laura up above--he knows his team, after all--but Tim elbows Conner lightly in the side and tips his head over thataway.
Phoebe Beacon	Phoebe loops her hand, seeing-eye-student as she helps him navigate about.     It is a Museum. There's always magic items in these sorts of places. Mostly old, degraded, low-key. Her dark eyes cruise over the crowd, a mild expression on her face as she gently steers John away from someone in a tux who has sampled probably too many drinks at home before coming out to the preview.     There are glowing responses to John's second sight up stairs on the second floor.     "Did you hear that some of these objects are supposed to be *cursed*? What if the Priest of Consumme comes out and starts harassing us all into giving money for some new church?" he belly-laughs, and nearly spills his own drink on John.     Phoebe steers him away from that, too.     She hasn't spotted Tim and Conner yet, or Jason -- but Jason would look incredibly out of place in a business-formal event and not in a dive bar. She might not even recognize him!
Conner Kent	Conner smirks at Tim's comment. "Nah, I get to wear this twice a year, not worth it," not to mention a new tux would be expensive, and he is a college student, not a billionaire. He nods at Tim when he glances up. "We should get Laura some canapes or something. She is being silly again." Beat, "didn't know Phebs was coming," he waves at the young woman if she glances his way. "So, what is the chance we get attacked by ghosts or zombies? Wanna bet something?"
Laura Kinney	There might not be anything exciting, at least as Laura would define it, happening so far. But that's no reason not to be prepared. A little discreet tapping into the security system so she can enter through a skylight without notice will save a lot on broken windows later! And at this height of course it's wise to secure a rope for a dramatic entrance. And hey it never hurts to practise her skills in the field. Unlike everyone attending the party she's not dressed up for the cameras. She's dressed to avoid them. Charcoal greys that blend with the shadows and an outfit that screams modern urban ninja. Her keen mutant senses alert for the signs of trouble. Or to just snoop on conversations if things seem quiet..
John Constantine	John isn't here for niceties or publicity photos or out of any sort of familial obligations. Well, that last might not be true considering the reason he *is* here is on the off chance this has something to do with Phoebe and the puzzle of 'what is she'. So it's family obligations adjacent, truth be told of it.     So when the glow happens bigger up the stairs than anywhere else, that's where he starts with a murmured, "Second floor, aye," to his student... person... kid... type human glowstick, that he's grown fond of and even attached to despite his best efforts not to do so.     Once up the steps, he'll allow himself to fall a little deeper into 'there' rather than 'here'. There's 'happy clapping sparkling, bright enough to blind, turn it down a notch *please*,' glowing - Phoebe - and then there's 'careful or that thing will sprout a mouth and teeth and eat your face off' glowing. So which end of the spectrum is *this* glowing?
Tim Drake	Tim shrugs one shoulder, dismissively. "Just put it on my tab," he says, because ultimately Tim is a rich kid who can say that sort of thing. Besides, the price of a tailoring session pales in comparison to the amount of money he pours into keeping a team of superheroes fed every month.     You thought CVS receipts were long? It's got nothing on the Roost grocery bill.     "I'll chat up the waiter, you swipe as many little tartlets as you can." That's his suggestion, at least, until Conner brings up a very valid point. "So maybe the rumors about cursed objects are true?" Tim's nose wrinkles, faintly, because that means magic, and Tim can't logic his way through magical problems. He tucks his hand under his chin. Then he tilts his head at Conner, and starts wandering towards another exhibit... one that puts him on the same path as Phoebe and Constantine. As he moves, he swipes a canape from a nearby try and lifts it to his mouth as a cover for him sub-vocalizing on his Outsider comms: "<<Balm is on location. Might be magical shenanigans afoot,>>" for Laura's benefit.     Then he realizes what he grabbed--hard to miss the smell of horseradish--and offers the roast beef canape to Conner with an unimpressed look.
Phoebe Beacon	"Up we go. Can you navigate stairs or should we take the elevator?" Phoebe asks, and then she pauses. She catches movement out of the corner of her eye, and se sees Tim and Conner. She's pretty sure Tim's going to recognize John. She gives a little wave of her hand, low enough that most people wouldn't see it as a wave, and then motions with her fingers towards the stairs as she trails John up.     Phoebe also has that affect on people. Except she used to blame her aura. Now a days it's a little fuzzier.     Up to the second floor they go. Glass cases holding the previous tomb offerings of yester-year. Some of those small figurines of fired clay are magical. Some of the baskets have residual magic. Most everything is 'luke warm shiny'.     And then there's a 'funerary mask'. That's not shiny. That's dark. There's something clinging to it. A duck-shaped makeup palette is dark magic.     Nothing looks like it's going to sprout a mouth and teeth yet.     Phoebe is distracted by a large pallate, though. It's teal in color, stone, and has odd lettering accross it, and beside it, a picture of the Priest of Khonsu's preserved remains.
Conner Kent	It is mostly pizza. And they have a robot for the cooking. Food can't possibly be much compared with the power bill for all the gadgets they keep there. Oh wait, there is also Bart. Conner grunts something noncommittal and munches the canape. "Didn't know you liked horseradish," he comments. "Where did Phebs go? Think she is sneaking around looking for something? And who is the blonde guy?" Asking to Tim, because Tim knows everything. It is probably not fair, but it is fun.
Laura Kinney	For now at least things are quiet enough that Laura remains on the rooftop. A few people walking briskly and a call of a potential situation over comms doesn't quite justify bursting into the fancy party. It'd just cause a panic and then force her team-mates to deal with a riot on top of whatever magical mayhem is in the works. She does inch the skylight open a fraction and double check her rope is securely fastened though.
John Constantine	"Stairs are fine, not blind just... distracted," he points out.     At the first sign of 'dark', Phoebe isn't getting far from John. He switches up from her guiding him to him pulling her in closer. It's then that what catches her attention snags his, even if it's not all dark and gloomy. "Whatcha see, luv?" he asks quietly, attention back to divided evenly. "That thing mean something to you?" Even as he asks, he's pulling her back from it. Just stay away from *all the things*, PHOEBE. He pulls her further away from it, until they're more in proximity to the evil clown death makeup thing.     Sure, he's here for the girl, but he's also here to make sure nothing sprouts teeth and eats a patron of the arts, so he's squaring himself up bodily in front of the make-up palette; sideways so he can watch both it and Phoebe and try to keep the thing she's paying attention to in line of sight as well.     Too many things to watch. But Phoebe is never out of his sight and held firm right by his side with a grip on her elbow that turns to an arm about her waist. - Like a father might his daughter, mind out of the gutters, man's no perv.     With his free hand, he takes out his phone and snaps a few pictures of both the palette that caught Phoebe's attention and the Death Clown Kit.     "Your mum, she had tattoos," he murmurs quietly, really the first time he's gone into any of that. "Like that," he nods toward the teal palette. "What's it saying to you, luv?" Not literally, it's not as if he thinks it's speaking, or hell, maybe it is... magic's messy and weird like that.
Tim Drake	The subtle gestures are enough communication for Tim. He doesn't acknowledge them outright, but he does pointedly look up towards the stairs as if to confirm he intends to follow.     "I don't mind it," Tim says to Conner, distractedly. He's asking himself the same questions Conner is, and he looks over for a brief moment before he shrugs. "Trenchcoat," he answers, sticking to the codename Phoebe has used in the past. "Her mentor."     Another guest of the exhibit preview passes by, and he waits until they've moved on to add, "For her magic."     Up the stairs he goes, still moving at a casual enough pace to suggest he's just browsing, not actively tracking anyone. Tim even pulls out his phone and acts like he's texting, though he's actually looking up some of the artifacts it seems like Phoebe's attention is directed mostly towards.
Conner Kent	Conner gets a few canapes for the staircase 'trip'. But no horseradish ones. He doesn't question Tim's decision to follow Phoebe either. It looks the logical thing to do all things Phoebe considered. Magical teacher, of all things. He expected at least a white beard. He is going to try to listen to Phoebe/Constantine conversation, then. Although he is pretty sure Laura was already doing it. And since the skylight has not been shattered, the zombies are probably not out yet. But this is Gotham. Conner will be mildly disappointed if there are no zombies.
Phoebe Beacon	"No, it's... it's wrong. It looks like the palette that showed the unification of Egypt, upper and lower. But the saropopards aren't right. Their heads are different. They represented chaos before the Dynasties in Egypt. HEre they're more portective, which... doesn't make sense. On the Nermer palette they're bound at the neck. They're free here." she states, "... it just... it looks different. Maybe a different group, or artist?" she asks, "because those creatures, they represent primordial chaos. They're always pictured bound in some way. Collared, controlled." she states quietly, and then she she turns up to John.     ".. you saw my birth mother in one of your walks?" she asks hesitantly, and then she gives a little tremble.     "These were ceremonial. I know the big pallete was probably used to make cosmetics to decorate the statues.     Tim and Conner have a tag-along. A larger man with a red face and thinning, white-blonde hair. He looks like a used car salesman, and smells like he rolled out of bed and decided that the cologne he purchased as a single-use. Even Tim might be able to taste it, but they would definitely recognize Mickey Rogers.     After all, Commissioner Gordon decked him when the Thompsons made away with Phoebe, last time they saw him.
Laura Kinney	Laura Kinney pauses for a moment to look up. Just on the off chance there are spooky clouds gathering, some kind of unexpected eclipse or weird conjunction of planets that would suggest something terrible is about to happen. Of course chances are even if such signs exist X-23 wouldn't recognise them. And of course she is indeed still snooping on the various conversations underway. Perhaps she'll get lucky and overhear an old man talking about how he'll get revenge on the museum and the telltale scent of a latex monster mask...
John Constantine	"I did," John replies and just a beat he adds, "She kept your cousin from killing me when I was ... sixteen, maybe?" After he puts his phone away, he reaches up to ... well, yank a stray hair right out of Phoebe's head. *ASSHOLE*.     "I'm going to see if there's a connection, you stay the bloody hell back, like way over there..." He gestures to... 'over there' before he carefully wraps that strand of hair around the index finger of his left hand.     "Stay over *there*," he repeats to Phoebe, "No matter what, unless it goes south and then run."     It's not ideal, having a pane of glass between him and the object of his spell, but it's not completely unworkable either. It just takes more focus, more concentration, more effort, but he's never shied away from effort.     John places his other hand flat on the glass of the display, closes his eyes and starts murmuring under his breath. From the outside, the murmuring is barely noticeable with the way his head's bowed and he might look as if he's just feeling faint and using the case to lean on.     Anyone with the right sight, however, could easily see the spell work starting, weaving its way through the glass, to the palette, through *John* and to that little strand of hair wrapped around the finger of his opposite hand.     If that thing's connected to Phoebe's bloodline, he's going know it, see it... maybe feel it, perhaps get smacked upside the head with it, maybe blown across the room? Magic's messy.
Lydia Dietrich	How late is fashionably late? Well. It's however late Lydia was to this event. She walks in looking a little harried, but still presentable. She's dressed in a nice emerald evening gown that matches well with her ever present ectoplasmic mists, has her hair done up and her make up expertly applied. In her hand is a purple clutch that holds all the necessary ID to get into the place. She's here because she's gotten a bit of interest in Egyptology ever since joining the Coven of Life, a coven in service to the goddess Isis. The rumors that these artifacts are 'cursed' has piqued her curiosity, to say the least. When she starts to mingle, like she's been taught to do by her many years of being the daughter of socialites, when she spies Phoebe and Constantine. And Tim. This was a bit unexpected. What's more unexpected is that John is up to something. Well. Not really unexpected. John is /always/ up to something. She sidles up to Phoebe, greeting her. "Hey, Phoebe. What's John up to?"
Tim Drake	"Ghosts," Tim mutters, abruptly. Because he hadn't forgotten about Conner's offer of a bet. He just needed time to weigh the options. "Probably going to be ghosts."     But what does he know. It's magic. None of it actually makes any sense to him.     Since Conner significantly outclasses him on the eavesdropping front, Tim instead busies himself with keeping an eye on their surroundings. And that's when he spots Mickey Rogers. Well, first Tim smells him, then Tim sees him. So as to not be super obvious, Tim doesn't react with much more than a subtle downward twitch to one corner of his mouth, before he abruptly turns and starts walking in Mickey's general direction.     As his feet move, though, he twists to glance back at Conner. "I'm going to go get us some drinks!" he announces, and in fact he's still looking back at his friend when he lightly bumps into Rogers. "Oh, gosh, sorry," he says, and flashes his most winning smile up at the man--one lifted directly from Bruce's own repertoire , in fact--immediately before making himself scarce.     He pockets the keys he filched from one of Rogers' pockets, and then pulls out his phone to check the strength of the signal on the tracker he planted in the same motion. Laura's communicator gives a silent vibration to indicate Tim has forwarded her the signal's frequency.     Less so that she can follow it--Tim knows she doesn't need help tailing anyone--it's moreso to make sure she's aware of Mickey Rogers being here.     "<<This is a complication,>>" he adds under his breath just before accepting two glasses of water from a waiter's tray with a quick thank-you.
Conner Kent	Conner nods in vague agreement, trying to understand what the hell is Phoebe talking about. Is she an expert in Egyptian mythology now? Then Tim leaves and he follows the other young man steps with his eyes. Until he bumps on Mickey Rogers. Conner scowls. When did he escape prison? Maybe he should do some heat-visioning right now... but no, Tim is on the case. Instead he hurries stairs up, with the intention of warning Phoebe ASAP.
Phoebe Beacon	"Oh, no trouble, no trouble -- you're Tim Drake, aren't you?" Mickey asks, and he turns, pausing a moment to ask -- and then Tim's no longer there. Odd.     The keys that are filched go to a Mercedes car. Probably parked somewhere nearby.     Phoebe looks at John, and her lips form a thin line because 'in the middle of an investigation' is definitely *not* the time to reveal that John and her mom have crossed paths before, and she was about to say something else when he plucks a hair from her head! She gives a sound of displeasure, and looks at John. THen she exhales, and turns. "A couple of my friends ar ehere as a head's up. I'm pretty sure if we need a distraction, I can get someone to pull a fire alarm or something." she states to him softly, and then goes over *there*, to the side of the railing as she leans against it and watches John.     Lydia is a welcome distraction. The woman gets a smile from Phoebe, and she gives a small shrug and motions. "I think he's trying to think if that's a legit palette that's just looking a little bit like the Nermer Palette, or if it's a fake." she states in simple explaination. "Coming up to investigate the items too, or are you--" Phoebe pauses mid sentence.     She's spotted Mickey, mingling below. The blonde man with the red face doesn't look like he's spotted her yet, and she freezes like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming train.     John's concentration is working, and he is able to do the spellwork through the glass. The large grinding stone for make-up is indeed connected! Someone from her family in the past may have used it. Or bled on it, at least. He doesn't get much further when there's a smashing of glass to his left. Someone is backing away, horrified at the slice against their arm from a suddenly breaking pane of glass -- over the duck!
Laura Kinney	Between the tip off from Tim and her enhanced senses Laura is able to pick out the exchange between Tim and Mickey. The sight of keys causes her to pause briefly in her overwatch and move to each side of the building in turn. Checking for a nearby getaway car. If she finds one? Then she'll fire a tracker into it from up above. It's not the ideal place to hide a tracking device, but people rarely look up and hopefully it'll be too dark to notice. And then it's back to her overwatch.
John Constantine	The sound of breaking glass, well, it shatters John's concentration and he spins toward the source of it. He hasn't lived as long as he has doing the things he does without the ability to assess a situation in a blink. Lydia. She does things, nifty things. He points at her and commands, "You, put her," he points to Phoebe, "...in a bubble or somesuch."     Bossy little bastard, isn't he? But now isn't the time to just ask nicely and hope someone listens. Barking tends to get people moving in the right direction before they may have a chance to think about it.     John's eyes flash with that Hellfire that lives somewhere between his black soul and his demon tainted blood, but it doesn't dance on his hands. No, the man's not about to sling a bunch of fire around in a crowded museum. He's just using the stuff to fuel his next step.     A few words muttered in typical Latin, the specifics unimportant, the intent: Seal and protect blah blah blah... both hands in front of himself, perpendicular to one another, palms in and on the last word, he turns both palms out, fingers pointing up and shoves the magic of a protective bubble around the display with the broken glass.     It's a quick fix for what could be a much larger issue, but maybe it buys a bit of time for him to suss out what to do next.
Lydia Dietrich	Lydia nods at Phoebe. "A bit. My coven follows Isis, so we're always interested in a bit of knowledge here and there." She nods to the artifacts, "Plus all those rumors about them being cursed. You never know. Might need to do a cleansing." The shattering glass certainly gets her attention, and her ectoplasm snaps to her skin, forming a kind of chitinous armor. "What the hell?" Her eyes narrow as John gives her orders, but it's in line with what she'd naturally do in any dangerous situation so Phoebe gets a bubble of protective ectoplasm around her. She'll be able to move normally, and the bubble will follow her around.
Tim Drake	Unless you've had a chance to properly observe a target, pickpocketing is something of a gamble. Tim wins a pair of keys to what he surmises is a rental car.     He ditches them in a trashcan that he judges as likely to be filled up (and thus, emptied) by the end of the night. Screw you, Mickey. Tim hopes the rental company charges a really exorbitant fee.     Tim hasn't made his way back yet when he hears the glass shattering, and he grimaces. "<<Kon, you got eyes on Phoebe?>>" he asks as he picks up the pace. Don't mind him, he just... needs to... use the bathroom? Well, here's to hoping no one's paying him much attention. "<<Laura?>>" There's a layer of deep concern underneath the steady calm of his voice.     Great timing, Tim. Walk away just before something bad happens.
Phoebe Beacon	"Lydia, no I've got to--" she stammers a moment, and then she's got a green bubble of ectoplasm on her. "Lydia -- take it off. Take it offf before he sees me--" Phoebe whispers quietly. Her hands are shaking, she's pulling back and away from the railing, but hey --     "Ohmigod! The glass broke! Mrs. Powers are you all right?" someone calls out.     "-- look! That girl's green!"     "OHMIGOD SHE'S CAPTURED THAT GIRL!"         "IT'S THE CURSE!!" someone cries out, and in panic, people start to make exits away from Lydia and Phoebe, pushing against one another because Gotham is weird like that.     ... except for the man who people can smell before they see him. Mickey is making his way up the stairs, and gives a very, very unfriendly smile with a lot of teeth.
Conner Kent	The sounds of breaking glass somehow make Conner appear at Phoebe's side in a flash. Too late, there is a green bubble there. "Damnit, Pheebs," he mutters, trying to reach the bubble and pull it down without looking like he is a Kryptonian. "Don't tell me you have annoyed the ancient Egytians or something." He glances at Mickey and grunts. "What is HE doing here? No, nevermind, want me to flashfry him? I bet no one will notice if I set his clothes on fire." And then more quietly. "Laura, can you cut Phoebe out of here?"
Laura Kinney	<<Mickey is heading upstairs. Should I move to intercept?>> Laura finally speaks into the comms. Trusting that Conner will hear her response too. From her vantage point up on the roof it's probably clear that Lydia was responsible for the weird green that's enveloped Balm. And that they seemed to know each other. It's perhaps a little out of character for her to ask permission before charging off ahead. Perhaps she's hoping asking for permission will make up for following everyone in secret...
John Constantine	John's focus gets split again, half on keeping whatever's trying to get out of that display, well... in and half on the happenings around him and Lydia and Phoebe. "Leave it on." This time it's not *exactly* a command, more a strong suggestion.     The screaming and the panicking of the patrons just go in one ear and out the other. Par for the course in his life, innit?     "Phoebe! Stay behind me!" He hasn't even spotted Mickey yet, has no clue what's happening there other than the fact that his glowstick kid is scared of *something*.     That Hellfire dances in his eyes again and one hand pulls back from the spell he's working on the display. It likely does *nothing* to calm the screaming masses when that fire does dance about his hand this time, just waiting to be thrown at any potential threat.
Lydia Dietrich	Lydia facepalms at people's reaction to her power. Of course it's the curse. Of course. "Sorry Phoebe," she tells her apologetically, "It looks like the damage is done. I'm not so good at not being noticed. I'm sticking to you so I might as well keep up your shield. But..." With a flick of the wrist and a twist of concentration, Phoebe's bubble shrinks and turns into a mirror copy of the chitinous armor. "There."
Tim Drake	Tim's got his phone out as he moves, and the tracker shows that Mickey Rogers is advancing towards Phoebe's last known location.     And then he notices another tracker signal pop up. Outside the museum, on the street. It doesn't take much to figure out what it's on, and who is responsible for planting it.     Thanks, Laura.     There's more screaming now, and Tim is the odd one out because he's moving towards the commotion rather than away. "Same old Gotham," he says, side-stepping a panicking woman so that they don't collide into each other. Ahead of him, Tim can see green glowing, and since he didn't catch sight of Lydia after her fashionably late arrival, he's relatively clueless as to its significance. Beyond magic. Good magic? Bad magic? No idea.     One thing Tim knows, though, is that Mickey isn't going to get to Phoebe. "<<Let's focus on getting Phoebe the hell out of here,>>" he says, and it must be serious if Tim is actually using a swear word!     Though his plan isn't to just let Rogers do whatever he wants. Laura's made sure they have access to another tracker, so Tim taps the little dot on the screen representing the one he planted, then holds his thumb against it for a couple of seconds. Inside Mickey's pocket, within the tracker, the circuit begins to overload and then pops up with a taser-stun worth of electrical surge.
Phoebe Beacon	I have to run. I have to hide. If he gets me, he's going to hurt me again. I have to hide. I have to *hide*.     It's not like last time. She's not weakened by having fought off hypothermia. Even armored, though, she moves behind John, close to the artifacts.     Fear falls to fear. Something is trying to get the attention of whoevver is keeping. It. *In*. Contained. Grating.     The man with the blonde hair and red face just gives a smile with an awful lot of teeth, his pale eyebrows narrowing down as he takes the first step up the stairs, having caught sight of Phoebe -- and then as he reaches for the bannister, he suddenly goes stiff, his face getting a discomforted, disquiet, wide-eyed feeling as he twitches, and then he goes down, continuing to twitch, as if he just got tasered in the side.     Well. One problem taken care of.     Whatever was grinding against John's containment has pulled back, for now.     Phoebe is trembling, however, behind him, as the museum empties out and the sound of police sirens are carried in by the open door.     Another door, from the Egyptian Antiquities room that's being remodeled to hold some of the artifacts blows open, and a man with a blue suit, a blue tie, and an Eye of Horous tiepin comes out, cleaning his glasses as he gives a cry of "WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON OUT HERE?!"
Conner Kent	Conner peers surprised. Mikey has too many teeth, it wasn't like that before. He still went down to Tim's shocking device, though, so he is probably not some a vampire or something related. He leaves the red-faced man alone for now, and follows Phoebe. "Pheebs, we gotta go, boss orders," he tells the girl, trying to wrap an arm around her back and drag her towards the closest exit (avoiding Mickey's prone form). "How is he is not in jail anyway?" He mutters, in case Phoebe knows.
John Constantine	John does not douse the fire in his hand when the fella comes out making demands. In fact, he raises that hand ever so slightly in warning. 'Back off'. After all, one never knows who might be what and that might not really be an innocent museum curator.     "Phoebe, go, get out of here," John agrees in regards to her being ushered off. "Bloody Hell," it's said with emphasis, but muttered under his breath. He *hates* letting her out of his sight, but he can't leave, not until he knows whatever's behind that spell isn't coming out to snack on the population of Gotham.     "Lydia!" Only barked to get attention. "Can you seal this thing, take over, while I try to figure out *what's* in there?"
Laura Kinney	Laura Kinney opens the skylight and throws the rope through. <<Ready for extraction.>> she murmurs over comms. <<Get Balm to the edge for me.>> Even as she's speaking she's jumping through the open window and pretty much free falling for a floor and a bit. The carefully arranged rope and pully system bringing her to a sudden halt at around the level Conner, Lydia, Phoebe and John are all on. She holds one arm out and motions for Balm to grab on. While the other rests on the controls for the rapid operation winch which'll send them both flying back skywards. It's also conveniently close to a silenced pistol. Just in case Mickey has friends.
Lydia Dietrich	Lydia steps up to Phoebe, concern in her voice, "Hey, you okay?" She lays a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Whatever it is you can tell me about it. Whatever it is I can help protect you. It's what I'm good at." Then people are trying to remove her from the scene. Between John's order and Conner, she drops the shield so that Connor doesn't have to fight her to get Phoebe moved. "I can try!" She shouts back, stepping up and holding out a hand. She closes her eyes and starts mumbling in Hebrew, feeling the threads of the sealing that Jon started. Once she's got the sense of them, she closes her hand in a grasp, and starts channeling her energy into the spell. Flares of amber streak through her ectoplasm coming from her heart and moving down into her hand to weave into the seal.
Phoebe Beacon	"I don't know, I don't know, he hasn't been sentenced? He can't be out on bail? was he in Arkham or Black Gate I can't even recall--" she whispers, trying to sort herself out as she comes down, she looks to John, and gives a nod, and then allows Conner to wrap an arm around her, her head bowing down a moment as she pulls away from Lydia. There wasn't going to be time to explain -- but with Laura and Conner there, she's in as safe a hands as can be that aren't John's. She can only assume Tim was behind bringing down Mickey.     She grabs hold to the extraction mutant, and is sent flying skywards and out of the situation entirely.     "... good God, you lot think they were actually cursed?!" the man who errupted from the Egyptian room asks, and he looks just so confused at them, taking a step back, looking at Mickey (who is currently drooling on the floor, hasn't recovered yet), and then back to John, Lydia and just... all the broken glass.
Conner Kent	Laura's presence means Conner doesn't have to use speed or flight to get Phoebe's out quickly. Nevermind he is handling an underaged girl to a pint-sized ninja that came through the skylight. Most normal people has left the building, right? Besides, it is Gotham, this is not even strange. "I am going to check what is wrong with Mickey's teeth," he comments. "Maybe it is just the prison dentists are really crappy."
Tim Drake	"Someone call an ambulance," calls out a good samaritan as they roll Mickey Rogers into the recovery position, on his side. "I think he's having a seizure!"     Tim, of course, uses the opportunity to retrieve the fried tracker disk from Mickey's pocket, and then he's jogging up the stairs. He doesn't come all the way up to the next landing, though. Once he's got enough height to see Phoebe and Conner, he stops and puts himself between the group and Rogers, who may be unconscious, but that's really not good enough for Tim. "<<My car will be parked on the corner,>>" he says, and while he stands guard, he taps at his phone. "<<Just coded it to unlock when your comm signal is in range, Laura.>>"     So yes, Laura gets to drive the very expensive Bugatti Chiron that will shortly be idling at the curb. It's red, which makes it go faster, vroom vroom.     Meanwhile, Tim is left looking up the last few steps towards Conner, unfortunately completely oblivious to the magic happenings around them. He arrives at the top of the stairs and frowns at who Tim is going to assume is the curator. "What happened?" he asks, and it's not even that hard for him to sound sincere... because honestly he doesn't even know himself.
Laura Kinney	"Someone probably turned him into a mummy," Laura notes solemnly. Perhaps it's her contribution to the zombies/ghosts debate. Because clearly a zombie and a mummy are totally different. Right? She doesn't wait for a reply though. Once she's grabbed hold she hits the emergency extraction button and a high powered motor begins hauling them both upwards. There's a little sniff of the air as they zoom up to the skylight and X-23 hrms. "I should have asked Conner for the canapes..." Once they reach the top she'll boost Balm up through the skylight first and then climb through herself.
John Constantine	John doesn't have time to answer questions, once he's free of the task of keeping whatever needs kept in at bay, his focus shifts toward trying to figure out what that might be and how to deal with it properly.     Just because it stopped crawling and clawing and grating before doesn't mean it won't start again. "Tell me if it pushes to hard on you, luv," he murmurs to Lydia before closes his eyes, raises his hands palms up in front of himself and asks to be shown what needs known. It's quick, down and dirty, magic without much preamble. It's generally the way he works, short cuts and all that.     Most of the time it works, some of the time it works well and some of the time it works while slapping him silly. He's braced for the latter and hoping for the best.
Lydia Dietrich	Lydia's approach to magic is more graceful and subtle than John's. She takes the raw power that John has put into the spell and starts weaving it like a spider with it's web. Reinforcing it here and there at key points, and letting it play out in others, always keeping whatever is on the other side of it at bay. "John, do you have any idea what is going on?" she asks.
Phoebe Beacon	Phoebe is lifted out, and she knows an extraction order when it's issued.     She also knows it's useless to argue with Laura.     "I hope he expects you to drive, I still haven't passed my permit yet." she mumbles to Laura, trying to recover some of her calm with a bit of a joke. She's not expecting it to work on Laura.     "Some... some mutant and some hack in a trench coat that looks entirely too much like /Sting/ had a hell of a night with Keith Richards are... are breaking cases of artifacts and -- what *IS* going on here?!" the man asks, turning around Phoebe is lifted out, Mickey is drooling and unconscious on the floor and everything at the special preview has gone entirely to crap.     "Is this how you Americans handle things?!"     Whatever was trying to get out settled in, and returned to biding its time, but it doesn't like it when John decides he needs to know what's up.     And of course, it's like the bottle. There's someone who has handled both of the palettes and the mask, who has handled Phoebe's blood. This time, Elsewhere. The Necromancer acting by proxy; but the mask and the large palette had subtler underpinnings, like a crinoline to give the outer spell more 'Oomph'. Unlike the Zoo, this wasn't a trap. This was something else.     Lydia's weaving is on an Arachane level, and weaves well into the warp and woof of it, containing things rather nicely, in fact.
John Constantine	"You fuckin' *bitch*," John mutters under his breath. He's obviously not talking to Lydia, she'd know it for certain if he was. His features pinch up, concentration, strain, one hand closes into a fist. Looking for it, following it... he's trying to take whatever it is she's doing, twist it and turn it and rip it to bits before sending the shards of it back at her tenfold. Hurting something or someone long distance isn't easy, in fact it can be downright impossible, but John's sure going to try.     ...and this time he intends to do more than just leave a mark. He aims to but a hurt on, hell maybe he even aims to kill. Every bit of everything he has is being shoved into this one single effort. Fuck. That. Bitch.
Phoebe Beacon	The unconcious Mickey Rogers has just a normal amount of teeth... minus a couple, actually. Some are fake. Likely from when he got punched out by Comissioner Gordon that one time.
Conner Kent	Conner hmms as Mickey seems all normal. Weird, as he thinks he saw something there. Shrugging, he heads towards the closest exist, the plan being trailing Tim's car from the high, just in case. There was no zombies, it seems. But he will ask Phoebe about the broken glass and the green forcefield later.
Laura Kinney	"Oh don't worry. I haven't passed my permit either," Laura says with casual disregard for the implications this may have for Tims car. It's not like a girl who doesn't legally exist can just turn up at the DMV after all! Thankfully 'The Facility' covered defensive and offensive driving lessons as part of her training. It's not easy on the car having X-23 drive but she can get from A to B very very quickly. Once they're up on the roof X-23 snikts the bolts holding the rope system in place and shuts the skylight behind her. "Grab everything, we don't want to leave any traces up here." Once they've got all the Outsiders kit packed it's off to the skylight and down to the very high power car Tim drives. And from there.. Well it's probably for the best that Gotham traffic cops rarely bother to issue speeding tickets... Fingers crossed Balm does not get car sick!
Tim Drake	Well, Tim's work here... is done? He just shrugs at the curator and makes the trip back down the stairs before the Wayne Foundation gets saddled with paying for everything. Money doesn't grow on trees! And he might be short a 4 million dollar car by the end of the night.     Which does make him realize that he's given away his ride for the evening. Tim sighs as he orders a Lyft, and avails himself of all the vegetarian canapes downstairs while he waits.
Lydia Dietrich	Like a weaver the web Lydia has carefully spun contains the darkness trying to spill out into the world, save for one thread. Reaching out with her other hand, she grabs onto that thread and starts pulling it tight, causing the web to close until it tightly encases the evil. Then with a deft motion, and a final murmur of Hebrew she ties the loose thread, finishing the seal. "There," she says with satisfaction. "It won't get out of that." She looks over to see what John is doing and considers. She could lend him her power, but he's mentioned demon blood before and that could end up hurting him more than helping. With a sigh, and a shrug, she leaves him to his job. Seeing that her fan, Tim, is over there looking dejected she floats up and over the railing to join him. "So," she says conversationally. "Crazy night, hunh?"
Phoebe Beacon	Phoebe helps gather everthing, every pin, every bit of rope, and makes to follow Laura. She knows the drill -- leave nothing behind.     "What kind of vigilantes are we again?" Balm asks to X-23 with a slight smile as they make their way towards the car, and she gives a soft 'Oh, snap.' at the car. It's not a yellow cab, but hey, it'll do! "I'm guessing I can't change direction from The Roost to Hell's Kitchen?"     John finds all the bits of magic, the underpinnings and overpinnings, the words whispered and incantations howled, and rips through it, destroying, undoing, sending ill-will and mallicious intent back towards its caster -- will it reach? There is something on the other side waiting, but it's guarded, shrouded, something unfinished and not ready yet.     BUt whatever the plan was with this artifact, it is *done*. The whole of the palette cracks in half.     "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" the man cries out, "THAT was a brand new artifact from pre-Dyanistic Egypt! That was literally, priceless! Who are you? Who is your supervisor! I'll have you *fired*!"
Laura Kinney	"I didn't receive any specific instructions regarding your destination," Laura muses. "So I can drop you off pretty much anywhere within North America." It's not like Tim is going to need his car once he's back home anyway right? He probably has a dozen more just like it waiting for a rainey day. Of course once they leave the Gotham city limits it'll be time to follow the rules of the road. It would probably look pretty bad for two people with no licenses to get caught driving a 'borrowed' supercar filled with suspicious B&E equipment and firearms.
John Constantine	Once the spell's finished, over, shattered, John turns to the curator and offers a crooked, cocky little grin. "Mate, I've been tryin' to get me fired from my job since the start of it. Even tried dyin' a few times, it never sticks."     With a murmured few words under his breath, the portal to that Wretched Pile of Sticks he calls home opens. He raises an eyebrow at Lydia and gives a nod. She's welcome to come along if she wants and find her way from there, otherwise he's stepping on through and it'll close behind him.
Tim Drake	Tim is drinking a glass of champagne and has found a tray of the onion and mushroom tarts, which is basically using as a plate. It's not like anyone else is going to eat them, and he doesn't want it to go to waste! "You can fly," he says, one tart held halfway to his mouth as he stares, taking this new information in. Which he does so by blinking a few times rapidly, and then with all the nonchalance of a Gotham native, Tim just shakes his head.     He gestures to their surroundings loosely with his half-empty champagne flute. "This is why we can't have nice things in this city," he says, but there's almost a fondness to it. It's either find it all dryly amusing or go mad. He gestures to the canape platter. "Feel free. I mean, it's not like I actually have any claim to them."
Phoebe Beacon	A distance away, someone is watching in a pool, looking black to blackness, seeing shapes in the dark, casting lines and getting information.     "John Constantine..." Asenath whispers into the darkness. "... Paisi should have let me slit your throat and solved *both* our woes!!"     ... no matter. Now she knew who she could threaten to get her cousin to come out to play... after all, who doesn't love the sons and daughters of Gotham?