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Post by Pyro on Aug 4, 2007 12:48:16 GMT
Splitting off from Josh and Bob's adventures in Incubus land
The portal hums, and shimmers, and suddenly the bubble contains too many arms, legs and… wings? Oh fuck…
Blondie (Lisa?)’s babbling confirms John’s suspicions as to who exactly is now taking up what seems to him wore than their fair share of the room (and it’s an odd, and far from pleasant, feeling, being backed up squashed against an invisible wall). While the list of people who’d be a welcome addition to the bubble is, needless to say, not especially long, Warren isn’t exactly anywhere near the top, and the thought I’m going to fucking kill Hank for this one is just that little bit more pressing than the Fuck, Toni’s going to kill me which accompanies his creeping awareness of where Warren’s most likely arrived from.
”Not that I’m anything other than totally fucking ecstatic to see you, Wings” John half-snarls, half-grunts, keeping his voice low as the wannabe-warlocks continue to bicker about what exactly they’ve managed to summon this time, as Warren twists and takes up yet more space and he tries to simultaneously untangle himself which somehow helps far less than it should – stupid small bubble ”but I don’t think Josh’d approve. Not that I’ll be around to see the fireworks at this rate” - ow, fucks, was that a rib? Really should start taking care of the few that aren’t fucked – ”He know about your breathplay kink, or is this just for me?”
[/sub][/quote]
It’s not like the alternatives are all that great, especially if Warren’s team are indeed intent on following him, and so ”Agreed” John nods, adding a low ”Don’t fuck this up.” before nodding again, the gesture purposely larger and more authoritative as if Warren’s been delivering a report, and (with some difficulty, given the space constraints, but not too unsuccessfully) turning back to the watching teenagers. ”My minion” (relish the word? Surely not) ”tells me things are already underway to bring the Prophecy to… whatever the hell it is Prophecies go to, so how about letting me out some time before the Apocalypse kicks off?”
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Post by Warren Worthington III on Aug 4, 2007 17:54:02 GMT
> " I don’t think Josh’d approve. Not that I’ll be around to see the fireworks at this rate. He know about your breathplay kink, or is this just for me?"
Warren rolls his eyes. "I expect he’d be more annoyed at you than anything else, actually. You do realize he hasn’t entirely forgiven you for Valentine’s Day yet, right? So, were I you I’d pay less attention to my hypothetical kinks and more attention to convincing these Hogwart’s rejects to let us out."
> " My minion tells me things are already underway to bring the Prophecy to… whatever the hell it is Prophecies go to, so how about letting me out some time before the Apocalypse kicks off?"
Minion? You’ll pay for that, Allerdyce… Warren keeps the long-suffering sigh completely internal and waits for the situation to develop. John’s request/demand seems to have done a fine job of causing confusion among their captors: “Apocalypse? Did he say ‘Apocalypse’? I didn’t sign up for any Apocalypse… hell, I didn’t even think this would work!” “Yeah! Jesus – oh, um, sorry John and, um, Mr. Angel – anyway, I thought we were just gonna, you know, get occult powers or something… you set off an Apocalypse!” “No way, man… world can’t end yet, I haven’t even had sex yet!” “Harold, we wait for that an’ we’re all safe for a good long while…” “Har, har, har. Hey, John – what happens if we let you out?” “Are you crazy? If we let him out he’ll eat our brains!”
Warren sees his opening there and takes it: "No, no, that’s zombies. Nothing to do with our office. No, my, er, supervisor here" – he balks at the more traditional “master” – "has no interest in eating any of your body parts – right, John? – although if you have any ice cream you can probably negotiate some kind of arrangement. In the meantime, we need to get free of your little, um, containment spell, so we can avert the Apocalypse he just mentioned."
“Avert the Apocalypse?” “Yeah, it means make it not happen.” “I know what it means, doofus, but isn’t the Apocalypse, you know, like a demon party? Why’s this one tryin’ to stop it?”
"Ah… well, as to that," Warren jumps in, improvising madly, "It’s a rather complicated political situation between several demons. You see, John was formerly in the employ of, er, Erik, the Master of Mag- um, of Melodrama, and the Destroyer of Bridges, who is driving this particular Apocalypse… if it is allowed to occur, the other demons will lose, um, spiritual market share. So a three-way coalition between Beelzebub, Lucifer, and, um, Karl Rove, was formed to stop it. Which is why we’re here. You see? All perfectly reasonable."
“But don’t we, you know, get anythin’ out of the deal? Like, you know, occult powers or nothin’?” “Yeah! Or at least get to make out with demon-babes… you know, like the one from ‘Damn Yankees’? ‘Whatever Lola wants… Lola gets…’[/i]” “Swear to God, Harold – oh, um, sorry John – if you don’t stop singing I will personally puree your brains and eat them myself.”
Harold subsides, and Warren manages not to laugh as he turns to John with a shrug. "Ah. Well, if you’re looking for deals with the devil in exchange for your immortal soul, I’m afraid that’s more his department. "
(( OOC: Incidentally, we could easily run into Bob/Josh in the hallway once we get out of 'Porky's -- the Demon Years' and rejoin the main thread. ))
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Post by Pyro on Aug 4, 2007 23:39:54 GMT
Yeah, I’d kinda surmised they were in the same building once Bob got to heat-seeking, just split this off for my own sanity and the sake of clarity now Josh and Bob have had their adventures  Referenced them towards the end of the post as off-scene sound effects, so yes, crossover ahead no doubt< You do realise he hasn’t entirely forgiven you for Valentine’s day yet?”Really?” John gives a contemplative heh, then shrugs ”Ancient history as far as reasons people hate me goes” (which is really is, isn’t it? Shit, Josh should get with the fucking programme already and be pissed off at him for dating Rogue / not dating Bob / *insert soap-opera scandal of the week* by now). His slight smirk of amusement at the confusion reigning in said ‘Hogwarts Rejects’ turns quickly to a milder confusion of his own as Warren interrupts; a what now? frown-and-pout. That shifts again, into something less descript as he flicks between a wry oh, sure, hi-larious grin and a fuck you scowl at the ice-cream reference. < Why’s this one trying to stop it?… ah shit. Okay, spouting bull he can handle, right? Before any words get out, though, Warren’s off again, and John does his best to stand back and let the man work, with only a slight amused grin at the mention of the ‘Master of Melodrama’ (though it’s slowed and saddened just a little when he almost allows himself to note that that’d be just Erik’s Magneto’s style were he actually in hell because… yeah, and tested still further when somewhere at the back of his mind something pipes up that Warren could give him a fucking break and stop with the snide digs given that they’re supposedly *co-operating* for now) and a mumbled, surprisingly admiring ”Fuck the Master of Melodrama; all hail the bloody Baron of Bullshit.” as Warren finishes his flood before adding a hasty nod as if to confirm that his ‘Minion’ has spoken true and that’s exactly how things are playing out. (And it’s weird, and totally random, for him to be struck by this sort of thing, and it’s probably mostly his fault anyway for playing the demon card like this, but with all the talk of working for Beelzebub… isn’t it kinda fucked that they’re cast as the bad guys – shit, the agents of the biggest and baddest of all Big Bads ever – in this?) He can’t stop a snigger at the sims’ demands – cool occult powers and hot demon babes, heh – and the way Lisa keeps checking herself whenever she says ‘Jesus’ or ‘God’, though it does present something of a problem, and John doubts Hank’d throw him an ace and help out with that, so promising anything is a hell of a long shot. Good job, then, that Warren’s there to… < I’m afraid that’s more his departmentThanks, Wings. Really. ”Um…” He quickly corrects that to a less indecisive, more contemplative sounding ”Hmm” intended to sound like he’s got a plan and is fine tuning it, rather than frantically pedalling to find anything he can successfully offer them. ”Well…”… and right on cue, someone somewhere decides to throw him a bone, and a serious of hisses and snarls and something that sounds like a demented battlecry echo through from somewhere else in the house, sending a shiver down his spine because there’s something uncomfortably familiar about… shit, is that a death-rattle? No, that’s just morbid, but whatever; they, whatever they are, send something more through Harold, Lisa et al, and shaking off the chill he sees his chance. ”I… well, we” he quickly adds, the closest Warren’ll get to a direct request for help (though not without a ”But mostly me” to restate that yes, he’s in charge, hot on its heels) ”will get you out of here without whatever the fuck that is eating your brains for real, for one. And dependent on how co-operative you’ve been… well, we’ll see about the sex slaves and superpowers. Can't be taking just any souls, y'know.” John smirks. ”But first, you’ve got to let us out.”
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Post by Warren Worthington III on Aug 5, 2007 3:32:11 GMT
> " You do realise he hasn’t entirely forgiven you for Valentine’s day yet? "
> " Really? (heh) Ancient history as far as reasons people hate me goes "
Warren raises an eyebrow at that, the effect somewhat spoiled by Allerdyce’s skull smacking against his jaw. "Do you have a more up-to-date (oof) reason to suggest?"
At first, all he can think of is that awkward moment in the hallway closet, when Drake was dying and Allerdyce seemed indifferent… which, admittedly, had infuriated both him and Josh. On further consideration, he calls up a fragment of memory of Allerdyce’s hostile reaction to Drake’s recovery, which he realizes after a moment is Josh’s memory rather than his own, and is tinged with outrage. "No, on second thought, forget I asked – that’s between you and him."
> " I… well, we, but mostly me, will get you out of here without whatever the fuck that is eating your brains for real, for one. And dependent on how co-operative you’ve been… well, we’ll see about the sex slaves and superpowers. Can't be taking just any souls, y'know. But first, you’ve got to let us out. "
Warren nods approvingly – that was surprisingly smoothly handled, actually. He’s pretty sure Allerdyce wasn’t responsible for whatever-that-was (in fact, a tickling in the back of his mind, like the vague sense that he’s forgotten to turn the lights off before traveling, suggests that Josh had something to do with it, but he’s doing his best not to rely on their telepathic rapport during this particular exercise), but he took advantage of it smoothly… and managed to work rescuing civilians into his cover without giving up his demonic pose. Nicely done. There’s hope for you yet!
“Uh, uh, yeah, OK, that sounds great – what the hell was that? – just give me a minute to find the release spell…” “Hey, no, wait up! He didn’t actually promise anything, we want more than this “we’ll see” business, we want – ” “Harold, I swear to – um, I swear, if you screw this up, I’ll –” “I’m just sayin’, demons are sneaky bastards! Who knows what kind of tricks – ” “Tell you what; you shut up now, and you can bang the skanky whore with the flag tattoo once she and Doug get back from wherever they snuck off to, OK?” “It pays to be careful, is all I’m – what? Really? That’s… no, wait, how do you know she’d –” “Found it! ‘Alohomora!’”
Warren falls backward as the force-wall evaporates behind him, rolls on his wings and comes up on his feet. "Ah… bless you, my son. It was getting stuffy in there." He doesn’t comment on the fact that, between the candles and the classic haunted-mansion stuffiness and the indifferent hygiene of teenaged occultists, it isn’t noticeable less stuffy out here.
He listens carefully for a moment, now that his hearing is no longer muffled by the bubble, and recognizes Josh and Bobby’s voices getting closer, and his mind races. They all have non-projectile ranged attacks… going up against all three of them is dumb. No idea where Storm and Rasputin are; can’t count on backup. Plus, this isn’t my zone – whoever this ‘flag-tattooed whore’ is, I’m betting she’s our target and will have all kinds of occult defenses.
All of which makes his next step obvious, and he puts it into practice without hesitation. "OK, now for your reward – get out of here, upstairs to the roof, and I’ll see to your safety," he says as he dives towards the room’s window and into the open air. With a little luck, Allerdyce and Team Josh and the Yellow Zone will neutralize each other… or at least slow each other down while I find this flag-tattooed girl.
(( OOC: I'd really just as soon not have Warren and Bobby in the same scene, so he's taking a powder now... unless you stop him, anyway.))
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Post by Pyro on Aug 7, 2007 18:16:45 GMT
Hell yeah, I’m good. John allows himself a slight smirk at how well he’d handled that before switching to a more nonchalant yeah, not bad shrug on noting Warren’s nod of approval, as if negotiating things that smoothly is a common occurrence and not a once in a blue moon affair for the pyromaniac.
So far so good, even if that Harold kid is making things far more difficult than need be with his demands (the ‘sneaky bastards’ line gets a brief snicker and mumbled ”You have no idea…”).
< Alohomora!
Another snicker as he stumbles back and somehow manages not to land on Warren, this one more disbelieving because ”Aloho-fu..?” he starts, then checks himself quickly – if he is keeping up this demon thing, then it’d be all sorts of stupid to suggest any lack of familiarity with the procedures, because even if they are too vacant to work it out Harold might well pick up on the uncertainty and press for a better bargain, and John really doesn’t need any reason to make his playing position any weaker. So he keeps the nitpicking internal Seriously, Hank, could it be any more fucking lame? Besides, everyone knows Alohomora is for physical locks and not mysterious… shield… things. He wonders vaguely what would happen if one of them were to shout one of the more, erm, extreme curses - and hopes that whatever this zone has to throw at them he’s never desperate enough to try something that pathetic.
< Ok
… Warren’s got a plan?
Much as he ostensibly resents having to follow and, hell, largely rely on Warren’s strategy, it’s a relief that someone knows what they’re…
< Get out of here, upstairs to the roof, and I’ll see to your safety
Relief turns to stunned indignation as Warren dives out of the window – what happened to co-operation, huh? (though, of course, they only agreed to try and get out of the bubble, and not anything else, so…) – and he’s left with the bewildered occultists (who, predictably, are arguing amongst themselves as to whether following Warren is a good plan), whatever that noise was (is it getting closer? Fuck)… and a ‘flag tattooed whore’ to track down before fucking Angel can (damn right, this is so fucking personal now).
… though (and too fucking right, it now pains him to admit it) it’s not a bad plan, getting the civvies out of the way – both for the properly heroic reasons, and because it saves them getting under his feet while he tracks down this Flag-Whore and kicks whatever’s defending her (because something will be, no doubt) through nine gates and into the tenth circle. And so, aware of their eyes on him, John shakes off his huh-bzuh-what? and tries to look like he knows what the hell he’s doing.
”… you heard him. Get the fuck out of…”
”What about our reward? See, Lisa, I told you, they’re sneaky bastards. Bet he’s not going to…”[/i]
“Shut up Harold!”
John’s careful to flash Lisa a quick grin – helps to have someone sort-of onside, even if they are a fairly dense sim - ”Kind of hard to reward you if you’re dead.”
”No one said anything about dead! See, Lisa, that’s what I’m on ab…”[/i]
“John won’t let us die… right?”
Nothing like a bit of pressure (it’s all sorts of annoying that the excuse ‘they’re just sims, it doesn’t matter’ doesn’t seem to work like it used to, as is that he’s feeling guilty for wanting it to… Warren’s jaw must be harder than it looks to cause that sort of brain trauma). Um… ”Not if I c…” – he catches Harold about to interject, and comes back stronger, noting the need not to let any doubt get in (because, of course, he’s an ‘all powerful demon’ and all that jazz). ”No. You lot bugger off to the roof with W.., with the minion, I’ll” – shit, how has it taken him this long to demonstrate his *jaw-droppingly awesome powers*? Computer flame doesn’t feel right, but it still looks fucking incredible, no doubt, when he draws on the candles littering the room, the combination of exercising his powers and the ripple passing through the room when he does putting a wicked smirk across his features – ”kill whatever that is, rescue the flag… whore… person… everyone goes away happy and un-eaten.”
If they’re still unconvinced – which he really can’t see them being, because even Harold’s shut up (and if that’s more fear than compliance they hey, he’s not complaining) – then he doesn’t give them time to argue, ducking out of the room towards the noise, still buoyed up on that buzz… right up until he gets about four steps from the door and realises how stupid it is running towards the weird noises in a horror movie. Fuck…. Of course, the flagbearer’s hardly going to be in a quiet, comfortable, non-threatening part of the zone… so it’s not like he has a choice. Fingers crossed returning with the Yellow flag will keep Toni from ripping his head off for quite possibly losing them the Red one…
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Referenced them towards the end of the post as off-scene sound effects, so yes, crossover ahead no doubt