Scene #7708: Sharing Is Caring

Owner	Pose
Persephone Kore	The Sapient Heuristics laboratory is a space station that nearly shares an orbit with Pluto, population 700. From this distance, the Sun is still by far the largest star in the sky, but it's small and dim enough it doesn't hurt to look at anymore. The night sky yawns out endlessly in all directions, only marked by the bisecting galactic plane of the Milky Way. There are a few reasons to build something as far out in the middle of nowhere as possible. You might do it if you're especially responsible and working with something very dangerous. You might do it if you're experimenting with extremely sensitive things that could be disrupted by the pollution and hubbub of civilization. Or you might do it if it is very, very important you be left alone. For Sapient Heuristics, all three of these things are true. Brook will likely be arriving via artificial warpgate rather than spaceship. But both will land you in the same place: a hangar-like entrance area, insulated from space with a classy shimmering red forcefield on its open side. Cables and boxes are neatly bundled and stacked; walking-paths are gently recessed into the floor, meandering around logistical equipment, docked ships, and potential workplace hazard zones. Their curves gently suggest where you ought to go. Heavy airtight doors at the back of the hangar automatically open into the station's interior as you approach- not an two-part airlock designed to cycle, but a safety measure in case the forcefield outside fails. The whole station, actually, has that painstakingly-overengineered meets feng-shui vibe, the product of a truly obsessive architect who has never heard of "good enough". The docking bay's interior doors have reinforced corners in full expectation that someone will bang a heavy box against them carelessly. The walls are thick and soundproofed to dim the noise of departures and arrivals. The door handles are copper so they self-sterilize, and at "night" the coffee machines suggest decaf by default.
Persephone Kore	The interior immediately has the vibe of a community space, like a library or a coffeeshop or a particularly cozy mall. It's quiet, with the loudest sounds being the soft bustle of people. There are ample places for someone to rest, people-watch, or have a quiet conversation in a cozy corner- which several people are. The dominant color is shades of a soothingly rich crimson, which really shouldn't work as a background, but as your eyes adjust to it eventually becomes comfortable. The color fatigue of a red environment makes the frequent decorative plants built into medians, shelves, or walls pop with an entrancingly impossible vibrancy. The station's surfaces curve and roll with a sleek, geometrically-pleasing smoothness; hard corners are rare. It even emulates day-night cycles! Right now the lights are at "late afternoon, fading into early evening". There's a significant age divide between "the staff" and "the subjects"; the former are in their late thirties and beyond, while the latter are mid-twenties at most. Otherwise, they're hard to tell apart. Everyone is wearing nice casual clothes, and everyone seems to know each other by name. If Brook's eyes are keen, she might notice that some- but not all- of the subjects wear cute little bracelets which are striped with color indicators. "Red" and "Blue" are the most common, but "Green" and "Yellow" don't lag far behind. Some people only have one color, while others have two or three. They can be found in any combination, though, so it doesn't seem like they're an escalating rank symbol or anything of the sort. Phony isn't hard to find, even without directions. She's at the center of that all-pervading aura of warmth and calm; when it gets stronger, you know you're heading in the right direction. Haha, am I really that obvious? I'd say I'm sorry, but you know I can't help it. When you walk into the little coffeeshop, I give you a friendly wave from my booth. I can't help myself from smiling, either. Come on and sit down, Brook! Have what I'm having. She looks as effortlessly saintlike as always. Her black fingernails tap on a white mug of coffee- idle, but not impatient. It's hard to imagine me ever being impatient, isn't it? Ahaha. The bracelet on her wrist has every color you've seen before and some you haven't.
Brooklynn Bailey	Brook in fact does enter through the warp gate because a spaceship ride is maybe a bit too much for her. In fact, even showing up here was maybe a bit too much. Her eyes are caught by the red forcefield looking out over space itself. She doesn't know enough about space to be afraid that the only thing separating her from certain death is a red energy field. However, there is that overwhelmed feeling when she looks out to see the sun just a slightly bigger dot in the night sky, and the stars she can see are much BRIGHTER here. They also don't twinkle. Walking away from the gate she takes to the path because it seems like it's what's guiding her into things. Her eyes do catch the construction, though a concerning look and think wonders why something is so over-engineered. The same thought turns back to perhaps thinking it's more to do with the detail in the construction...like it wants you to feel a certain way. The crimson takes a moment for her to get used to, but it does feel warm once she settles in. The eyes adjust, taking a moment to really get a foothold around where she is. It is also odd to see so many older people in one place, very few in her world are over thirty. Fifty is downright ancient. The armbands catch her eye, different colors, and they seem to mix and match. She has a theory on that but supposes she won't know until she runs into Phoney. Fortunately for Brook she has been in Persephone's presence before, and by subtracting where she is by where she isn't in relation to how well she feels she can trace where she is going. Of course, the thoughts do come in a moment later. 'That does help, though playing hot and cold might have been fun,' She says with good humor. Taking a step inside the coffee shop once she finds it, and towards Phoney once she gets her wave. Even if she sees Phoney first, she decides to wait for the wave because why not have fun with meeting a friend. 'I don't think I've seen or felt you angry, never mind impatient,' Brook thinks, but with either putting an order or waiting for someone to take her order she does at least take the suggestion. "An answer to my educated guess...the bands are what powers of the mind you have?" She asks, sitting down and giving a warm smile towards Persephone. "Also sorry I was a little slow getting in...the sight might be common to you but the idea of being...off the earth and in space is new to me."
Persephone Kore	The construction does want her to feel a certain way, and it isn't subtle. The typical space station is clean, utilitarian, brutally functional. But this isn't just a workplace; this is a community, and it's structured to be one from the start. They knew they would be raising children. They knew it'd take a village. The subjects here are free to leave, but with a home like this, is it any surprise that they haven't? The last few times Persephone and Brooklynn have met face to face, there have been ample distractions. This time, there's really nothing to focus on but her. Up close, the psycho-gravitational pull of her heart is so strong that it feels like you could fall into her forever, never quite colliding. She's distantly terrifying in the same way that reading about supermassive black holes and vast astronomical spectacles is terrifying, but also so gentle it's impossible to be scared of her. (The lack of security or containment for the psychic children makes sense now. It's not negligence, but a trusting vulnerability. If she really wanted something, it'd be impossible for them to stop her from getting it.) "You really are smart," she says, smiling around the mug as it's lifted to her lips. Siiiiiip. "I could tell you what each color means, but there wouldn't be much point. You've already seen the things I do!" Behind her, a coffee machine hisses and starts to run. It's hard to tell if she started it with her telekinesis, or if it's automatic. "Dr. Carpathia was against the bracelets at first. She was scared the staff would treat kids differently if they could tell at a glance that they could feel hearts or shape the world. But once everyone got used to the idea of working with special children, it was us kids who asked for them. It's such a pain if someone assumes you can't read minds if you can. Or, worse, if they assume you can when you can't! Ahaha." A cup of espresso floats over to the table, landig in front of Brook. Phony doesn't gesture or even look. "Cream, sugar?" She rests her cheek in her hand, smiling warmly. "It is a little strange, being in space. Earth is our cradle, isn't it? It's the most natural place for humans to be. But it isn't the most human place. Every inch of a space station was made by human hands, on purpose. I think that makes it a purer expression of humanity than Earth will ever be."
Brooklynn Bailey	It's true, looking at Persephone without having any other issues to focus on is definitely more noticeable than anything, it's really in her presence that Brook notices it the most, but at the same time Persephone could tell something else about Brook when they are this close. She is less easily enraptured than the average person. Certain Persephone is a great well of gravity, but Brook could easily spin in the ergosphere. She just doesn't choose to, because she enjoys the presence and company. It's hard to find someone who can draw her in the way others are drawn into Brook. Also, the fact that there is already MORE in Brook's soul than the average person. Like someone uncarefully shoved a concept into her soul and her soul had grown around it, integrated it but it's obvious that it doesn't belong there. Humans certainly should have it, but it's the size of several hundred or more humans. Brook takes the espresso as she listens about the bracelets. It's easy to tell she's never actually had it. The question of rather or not she wants something to put into it is something that makes her wonder. So instead she starts with a sip. To her credit, she doesn't choke or anything. In fact just the opposite, she rather liked the raw flavored compared to what she's had before and what some consider 'coffee'. "Mmm...more sugar I think," She says after a moment. "I am unsure about cream, I just feel it needs to be sweeter but not lighter." "Your people know their job, I feel. Everything is so well constructed, everything so pointfully designed. I feel this is just a construct though, that you all have also put effort into making it a home. It shows a lot of trusts and caring between a group of doctors and their patients. Or maybe more than that. Teachers and students maybe? I can't say I know that too well, I really only have the Old man back home who teaches when he can." The earth comment gets her a response after she considers the sweetness of the drink after some sugar has been added. "Well, Earth isn't really designed for us, ya know? We adapt to it as it adapts to us. I read this in a book, about evolution and stuff. We can live there because we have been molded and mold it...so of course, something like this would be better suited to people! People made it after all." However, she speaks with honesty and warmth, "I don't think it's my place. I like getting my hands dirty, strugglin' against the earth and rain. The desire to make something out of parts out where the world doesn't care if you live or die? It's a challenge but I like it. I would like people to be able how they chose to live in my world though, even if it doesn't agree with me." "That freedom to pick their own path, instead of fighting for survival, ya know? If they want to make places like this, then I'd be all for it, if they want to live under the elements to survive? Sure. Then it's also keeping these people who choose to live differently united as one people, ya know? I talked a good game to Guzma, but I wouldn't know how to do that..." "I love people, but do I really /know/ them? The issue with the doctor recently kind of made me think. One man went against all logic and reason to try and get to know another...and he saved that doctor's life," Brook muses. It doesn't vex her, but it does make her wonder about her own limited vision.
Persephone Kore	Doctors and patients? Teachers and students? "Let's say, scientists and novel phenomena," Phony says. She smiles a cozy, eyes-shut smile that's almost but not quite a laugh. "We do impossible things, and they try to figure out how, so they can make us even more impossible." She tears open a sugar packet and pours it into Brooklynn's drink. It stirs itself, because of course it does! Haha, I'm not getting up and finding a spoon. "You're a real pioneer, aren't you? The triumph of man over nature... ahaha. That's the prettiest kind of conflict, isn't it, when you beat the elements? Because the victory is real, but nobody has to get hurt. Like a pretend-fight but even better. I never thought of it that way before." Quietly, Persephone tunes herself to the frequency of Brooklynn's narrative residue. That enormous shard of 'charity' in Brook's heart, like a metal implant... where did it come from? She's sifting through past events that might have caused such a thing; the story that led to Brook being that way. In other words, "why are you the way that you are?" "You're a really special girl, Brooklynn," she says, taking another siiiiip from her mug. "I know you're strong; you don't get to say you aren't! But sometimes being special makes it harder to understand other people, not easier. If I couldn't feel hearts like this, I don't think I'd be able to understand people at all." "Is that what you're hoping I'll teach you, Brook? It does come with its own burdens. When you understand someone like this, it's very hard to hate them. Even if you really, really want to."
Brooklynn Bailey	Brook looks at the spinning drink, whistling a little. It was impressive to see the fine control to do something like that without a spoon. "Sure, if that's how you want to identify it. It feels warmer than that, but at the same time I don't live here either!" There is a pause, "Interesting, so a bit of a push and learn and then push you all even farther? Student and teacher might not be so far off." "You say that..." Brook says and looks up from the awe at the self-stirring drink. "People do get hurt, even killed. Not just wild animals, accidents, storms..." she can go on. "At the same time having to work tightly with who you're arm to arm with That sense of community is something special." Brooklynn smiles warmly when she's called special, "Thank you, and I don't disagree. It's nice to hear it said though, to hear someone other than yourself confirm it.." she says, "Which is why I love hanging around you, even if things were weird at first, I still at least felt comfortable and like I had always known you as a friend. Of course, you followed feeling with fact, being a friend is a lot harder than making people think you are.." she says, honestly. She pauses, as the question is brought up, and she frowns a little. "I can't say you aren't wrong, Persephone. In that situation on my mind, all I could think about is my people. It feels a little selfish. That man had lost everything...he had power but no focus. I think too I felt and feel like that sometimes." "You have that, confidence and focus. You know what you want, and I think I am starting to figure out what I want," Brook says with a smile, "I know it's not sunshine and rainbows even if you do make it look easy, and you're already willing to come forward and tell me..." She continues on. It's like she's trying to feel an idea, trying to figure out what she's breaking forward to. "Not just this, but to become a person others feel safe to trust. To find others like that doctor and help them become their own confident person and to have them feel they can own that power."
Brooklynn Bailey	Persephone asked a question. The burden of knowledge is a hard one, and it's not that Brook is actively resisting, but rather that there are things she does not know, but the shard knows more. It's not its own entity, but rather a collection of ideas, of thoughts of a concept...and of memory. Persephone can see a little girl in what is tantamount to 'church' clothes. A taller woman fussing over her hair and clothing. The words 'Ascension' come up. To reach the pinnacle an older man says. A man on TV can be heard, part sermon and part instruction. Special headsets are being fuddled with by presumably her parents. Images, though fuzzy of the headset being put over, and a scared Brook reaching out for something. A firm hand grips her own, reassuringly. She can smell the faint hint of pipe smoke. The wrinkles she feels are obviously her grandfather. Then there is something...for a moment Persephone can feel like something is draining something. Brook at this age can't begin to understand what's happening, and barely understands it now. Something is trying to sift out the soul, to drain out what can likely be seen as negative. The seven deadly sins? When Persephone looks up she can see a Tower, a shining tower that stretches up, and it's not the only one. Towers all across the world, all leading to a single giant tower that stretches even farther. Golden, beautiful. Mankind's souls connected to a single point. Dark whisps of miasma seem to be shooting up into space. However, something that is part of a soul still has something of a soul in it, when you collect those pieces, they form something that has a will. That will to not be rejected, to not be destroyed. It desired to exist, even if what happens is destruction. It deserves to live! LIVE LIVE LIVE LIVE LIVE LIVE LIVE LIVE LIVE LIIIIVE! Shards are seen next, hundreds of them some collecting with other shards, combining together. The tower, the shining beautiful tower is shattered. Pieces of souls are flying everywhere, but somehow also somewhat guided back to where they should be. The shard you can see, that you can feel is made of different people's feelings of love. Clinging to Brook's own because she was pure, as Children often are. Brook's body snaps up as if breathing again. Her hand feels funny, she thinks. A small hand moves to slowly slide the headset off...and the hand that was being held by her grandfather is now being held by a twisted creature, more slug than human, and ponderously slow. In fact, when it notices Brook it looks...hungry. Screaming and turning away and trying to run only brings more, A statuesque woman, almost a statue...a perfectionist who wanted everything to be right in her Sunday best, but also cold as a statue tries to grab Brook. It babbles about being perfect. A beast of a man crashes into it, screaming about something incomprehensible to Brook. The man turns, she can see the face of her father buried in its shoulder. Its vicious jaw bites down on her... Moments later Brook is awake, and the creature is on fire. Fire is everywhere around her. Everything is burning. The Sunday best she was wearing is terribly scorched, she is slowly healing, as she looks at her bloody hands. In a mirror, Brook can see the imagery of the biblical figure that she had become. Flames wrapping around her changing her into something inhumanly beautiful, but still inhuman. When she cries, and the figure also cries...the moment that sents in that it was her...
Persephone Kore	Oh. People's hearts torn apart, rearranged into new and awful shapes... I'm so sorry, Brook. You were supposed to have an innocent, carefree life, weren't you? But all those grown-ups, with their dreams of a false heaven... they took that away from you. And made you into something you never asked to be. That's a lot like Sapient Heuristics, isn't it? Or at least, I can see the similarities. And so I can't blame you at all for being scared that what we're doing might turn out bad, too. No, maybe not you exactly- but that piece of other people's hearts embedded in yours. They're what recoils from it, right? So it touches my heart even more that you'd trust me, even like this. All of that is conveyed through gentle, subtle shifts in the feeling of Persephone's aura. Outwardly, she just closes her eyes, inhales through her nose, and exhales through her mouth, breathing over her coffee to cool it. It's very likely that Brook wouldn't have felt anything from the psychometry. But she can tell, through the little shifts in Phony's expression, that she knows. "Thank you," she finally says, "for trusting me. Haha, it's been a long time since I've said that. Because it's so easy for most people to trust me, you know? They almost can't help it. But for you, I know it's harder. So I absolutely won't accept it if you reject my praise!" She holds out one hand across the table and straightens up, her expression getting a little more businesslike. "Now! If this is still something you want, take my hand, and I'll teach you how. It's a little scary, but I promise it isn't hard."
Brooklynn Bailey	The shift in Persphone's aura causes Brook to look concerned. Then knowing after a moment when it comes out. She lets out a small, sad smile. She knows, and...it's a pain she does not like touching on or sharing. She didn't know, she knows she didn't know. She knows that it wasn't them anymore, but it's still a bad memory. At that moment her safety and security were transformed into horror. She wipes a tear from her eye, "Remembering that day never gets easier. Even if I try not to it does come up..." She says softly. However, the hand comes across the table. "How could I not? Trust you that is...you follow what you are with action." "...and I can't close my heart off to that. No matter how much the thing in me wants it. It feels a lot easier to hang out with you, and trusting you is something I want." The hand reaches out to touch Persephone's. There is no doubt in her heart now. Her eyes focus on Phoney's own, "You want to share too, and..." "I want to be better than I am. Even if it's scary or hard...so I will walk forward with you on this." She says, with a warm tone. "Ha...listen to me spill my heart out, but you could probably hear what I wanted without words."
Persephone Kore	Persephone's eyes drift shut, but she smiles anyway. "Words are still important," she says firmly. "Everybody has bad thoughts, but only bad people put them into words or action, right? So it's what you choose to let out, not what's inside, that matters most." Her fingers intertwine with Brook's, and she gives just a gentle squeeze. "Thank you for pouring your heart out to me. I feel really honored! Now let me share mine." Persephone's Jungian-Newtonian gravity becomes overwhelming. In her aura, there's a sudden awareness that the world is confining, cruelly rigid. Matter and spacetime don't care about our hearts. They're too real, aren't they? All your hopes, they can't move a pebble. All your dreams can't stop a bullet. You only get to exist because of the arrangement of matter that makes up your body. If that stops, so do you. Isn't that cruel? Isn't it awful? Why does it have to be that way? I want to challenge it. I want to argue. Aren't human souls more important than a rock? Don't they have more dignity than a bullet? Who decided their existence should rely on that clump of meat we call a 'brain'? I can do these amazing things because my heart is more real than the world. That's why you can feel my gravity so easily! Most people's hearts are less real, but less doesn't mean they're not real at all. You can learn to feel their auras, too. The world around them, the empty coffee shop and the space station, gently fades away. It isn't gone, but it slips out of conscious awareness like a background noise you've learned to ignore.
Persephone Kore	(Something is pouring from Persephone into Brook's mind. It's one fragment of a truly alien idea, shared across their heart-to-heart connection. Brook can understand it with difficulty, can hold it in her head, but it's not an idea that could ever be communicated in words. It is beautiful, but it's not a human thing; too far removed from human experience to ever be encapsulated in human language. How did anyone ever conceive of this? It bristles with subtleties that hint at a broader context, but everything it points to is as utterly inhuman and abject as the thing itself.) We're standing- or maybe floating, it's always hard to tell!- in a gentle black void. It's dark, but not dark like a scary room; dark like your eyes are shut in peaceful meditation. I'm still holding your hand. I won't let go, I promise! But it's not completely dark. There are spots of light, too, aren't there? Like stars, or maybe planets, or perhaps even moons or comets. If you relax completely, if you open yourself up, you can feel their pull on you, just like my aura! Are they happy, sad, angry? What intentions do they project outwards on the world? The hearts of the staff and the subjects are noticeably different. The subjects have more focused, confident intentions; their gravity is stronger, palpable from further away. Persephone herself is like the Sun.
Brooklynn Bailey	Brook nods, right now perhaps she is out of words to say but is ready to accept what would come next. The hand intertwining with hers, the squeeze brings back a familiar comfort that she thought lost a long time ago. Things stop being about what is around them and slop into what they think and feel. The darkness...no the fading away of the world causes a bit of unease in Brook. A squeeze keeps her grounded though, she knows she's in good hands. The idea is communicated, about things being real...no people. People are real, even if they feel less real than they are. The idea of being more real than the world is a strange alien idea. How did anyone come to think of that? To enforce one's belief onto fact and reality? The idea shared is hard to put into words. No that's not right, Brook realizes, she could never put it into words. She can barely grasp the concept it represents. The beauty of the idea is not lost on her, even if she is inexperienced with understanding it. It's something...different, something unfamiliar, but it's not frightening like something like this ought to be. Brook lets it into her heart, to let it fill her with the inhuman idea...but yet still beautiful. With the idea in her heart, she can feel the lack of something around them. No not a black abyss, but a room with the lights out. She knows the walls and ceiling and floor are there. Even if she is floating she knows /she/ is safe, even in this unfamiliar land. Lights appear, stars? Yes, that's a good thought. She tries to think of it in that way. Pinpricks of light around her, and the strength of each star is different but beautifully unique from the others. 'I don't know...it's still a lot I am trying to understand...but I can see them..." Brook 'says'? It's not words, but it's an idea? Communication without words. Is it thoughts and feelings? Persey help am I talking or thinking? When she faces Persephony now, despite the fact her hand is there in hers, the brightness of the woman and her own gravity is nearly overwhelming. 'Wow, I expected bright but...it's very bright, and I can't take my eyes away from...' Then gone in that moment, on the acceptance of an idea...Brooklynn isn't just herself. That inhuman idea that is Brooklynn is there. The idea of being a Cardinal Virtue is always there in her mind. Here it manifests as what she is when she has burned enough power. The idea of fire-like wings, of angelic-like features, of inhuman-looking features.
Persephone Kore	Despite being as radiant and heavy as the Sun itself, Phony in the mental space looks like... Phony! Obviously. She hasn't changed one iota from the real world; not a hair is out of place. Not because my heart looks like my physical body, but because I already forced my body to conform to my heart! Ahaha. "You're beautiful, Brook," she 'says' while cupping her cheek with a hand. Her expression is warmly adoring. "It's like talking, isn't it? But not exactly. You can feel my intentions, and I can feel yours, so there's no way not to be honest." It's impossible to imagine Phony lying anyway, but maybe this is how she got in the habit of so thoughtlessly telling the truth. Slowly the coffeeshop fades back in, as if Brook had just been "reminded" of it. They're not floating in a void; they're sitting in a booth, with Phony holding her hand. But that "other place", that other way of seeing the world- with walls and objects fading away, and people's hearts glowing brightly- remains quietly in the back of her head. If she shut her eyes and concentrated, Brooklynn could immerse herself in it again. Persephone's still smiling gently, of course, like she always does. She raises her mug of coffee and takes a sip as if nothing terribly unusual had happened. She's used to things like that, after all! "You'll get more confident with practice," she says warmly. "But that's a good start to 'understanding other people', isn't it?"
Brooklynn Bailey	It is bright, but seeing Phony looking like Phony despite the fact that everything is right, and weighty being near her is relaxing. Though for a moment her own slight embarrassment in what has come to the surface. It is a reminder that she isn't human, well not exactly in the way that she might have once been. However, the words hit her, and she can't help but feel a little embarrassed over her own awkwardness over what the power produces when she uses it. She lets her hand touch the hand on her cheek. She does smile, speaking back. "Thanks..." She starts, "And yes...I think I get it a little. Feeling things in a way I had never understood before. Not just blindly guessing, but really truly getting to know another's heart...it's beautiful, and so are you." She says warmly. "It's always been hard to accept me like this, maybe I was afraid it was the shard and not me, but...I guess it is me too.." a breath. It was about this time when the shop returns into view, the super impression of the other form fades to a more normal view of Brook, though the flames still traced around her. Nothing was in danger of burning, but it was an indication that effort had been spent. "Y-yeah..." She says taking a hold of her cup and taking a sip. "It is. I guess then you are going to be taking care of me," She says with a playful tone. Trying to absorb the true view of what she could do. "I don't think I could do as much as you can...but that's not a problem. I have what I can do...and even with just a bit of what you can I already feel..." "More real...more at peace with things." a breath, "I don't have much I could ever offer in return...but just ask and I can also share what I can with you."
Persephone Kore	Persephone's eyebrows lift just a little- Brooklynn had offered that before, but it seems like she'd forgotten! "You really want to help me out too? Ahaha, but that's so nice of you! It's really adorable actually." She reaches across the table to mess up Brooklynn's hair just a little, like an over-affectionate aunt you begrudgingly put up with because she gives out really good candy, and then pulls back to rest her chin in both hands warmly. "Doctor Carpathia's always worrying about me doing Elite work, even though I've told her worrying over me is utterly forbidden. Do you have anything that could keep me safer? It'd really help a lot to get her off my back."
Brooklynn Bailey	Brook's hair is now a mess, and also now containing more static electricity than a cat who had loafed across a carpeted living room. This is your fault Phoney. "Of course I do. Phoney, you can't just be helping people and making them like you without them wanting to return the favor...also, whatever I feel about what I am, I know I am Charity..." "Charity is love...and that love extends to you too. So don't go on thinking I won't want to take care of you as much as you want to take care of me." "I am extremely physically tough, and anything that could hurt me tends to fall off. My body regenerates very fast...usually over seconds and minutes rather than hours. It's hard for people to cause things to affect my body to stick..." she considers this. "I can fly pretty well!" She was proud of that. "Yeah, it's not as impressive as the Queen, but I feel like it's very useful." She says, proud. The Queen is cool, but Brook can fly.
Persephone Kore	"Ahaha! You really think you could match me like that? You think there's enough love in your heart to challenge even someone like me?" Phony's expression is briefly mock-serious, but then it relaxes into a silly laugh. "You probably could, you know. You're made of love, which is totally unfair! But I won't roll over without a fight about it." More contemplatively, as she finishes off her coffee: "I can already reassert my 'ideal shape' if I'm hurt, but it's not quite as impressive as how you bounce back! And I'm really not tough at all. So those would be amazing." "Flight, though..." Her smile fades; her lips are pursed. "I can already fly a little, but I wouldn't make good use of more. Would you believe I'm a little scared of heights? Ahaha! On a space station, you know, you're never more than a few feet off the ground." She holds out her hand, warmly ready for whatever ritual's necessary for Brook to share her blessings.
Brooklynn Bailey	Brook returns mock-serious with mock-serious, for a moment it looks like a battle of love is about to break out before things turn into relaxed laughter and smiles. "I might be full of love, but you are much more easygoing about presenting yours. You are really special about that, you know?" "How about we both agree we're both pretty amazing...but yes I think it'd help you in case someone realllllly wanted to try and hurt you. There are jealous people out there." "Really..? To me, I just feel the place is just high up and I am standing on something high up...but I suppose if you go high enough are you really going to fall?" The answer is yes because of gravity but Brook doesn't have evil gravity powers. Brook takes Persephone's hand and closes her eyes. There is a soft glow, the fire spreading out from her again, once more the shape of a biblical yet inhuman angelic figure is manifested where Brook is. The flaming wings, the flaming headpiece, the eyes of flames, and the face of inhuman design opens her eyes. Flames reach out, but they do not hurt. They move to wrap around Phoney, to infuse themselves with what she is. Fundamentally sharing a piece of what Brook is with her. She can tap into that power, that Cardinal virtue that Brook is. It is also like feeling under her protection. "I hope it serves you well, Persephone."