Zombies on the Lawn

September 02 2014: There's a zombie on Rain's lawn. Don't want zombies on the lawn.

Moontree Manor

Grand. Victorian. Gothic. And right at the moment, under attack by zombies.



  • Rain's Aunt
  • Zombies

Mood Music:
[* None]

A few curious events have been happening throughout the day. Sightings of a woman devouring someone in the graveyard, her face covered in blood, which sent police scrambling in. They didn't come back. Strange, shambling people walking towards Queens. One distraught woman called in to police to report her husband came home reeking of wine, then bit their son and shambled off. Throughout the day, the sightings become more frequent. People seem uneasy in this neighborhood now.

A dread aura hangs about the block, creeping closer to Moontree Manor. Captain sits in a window, staring out. His orange tail flicks and he's poofed out. The household help frown, and sometimes look outside. Everything feels sort of sickly, and hungry. So hungry. The weather is the same, and people go about their business, but there's always a glance over one's shoulder. A shuffling, shambling neighbor who only grunts and growls. Heading towards some place or another. Are they sick? A few ambulances might be called, then parked and left.

A bit in front of Rain's fence, those who can sense magic will feel an immense, truly immense malevolent sort of power and energy building. Black shadows begin to coalesce as the color drains from around plants and life around it. What is going on?


Rain's been a fairly quiet, easy to get along with kind of witch. So when Fenris senses a buildup of power he doesn't immediately assume it's her. Seems out of character. Something's happening at her house though that demands attention, so it shouldn't be a huge surprise when a Way tears open and the tall, lean, predatory god-wolf steps through with a frown on his face. "Rain? Captain?"


Jim Reha lives in Queens. He had gotten back to his cheap little studio apartment after working at the yard and was just about to call it a day when the hordes of shuffling folks got his attention. Acting quickly he made his way to the top of a nearby apartment building and called upon the partner… because this was definitely beyond his pay grade and capability.

Corvinus is not a magician, nor is the partner, but lofting itself into the air, it begins a slow spiral-ing circle above the area, attempting to get a feel for where they are headed. When was obvious that they were heading for Moontree Manor, the avianoid made a few banking turns to take it a little bit lower, but still above the range of most conventional firearms and the like, trying once more to get a 'feel' for the situation.

It is… the eye in the sky.

You can't do all that crap mentioned above without people starting to notice, and when people start to notice things like that, the reports eventually filter to the BPRD. Hellboy is not the world's greatest detective by any stretch, but you don't have to be to see the connection between a witch house falling out of the sky and, a week later, all sorts of weird paranormal activity in the surrounding area.

So it is that Big Red comes sauntering along the fence around Rain's house, approaching from the back and making his way around the perimeter for a chance to get a look at the situation. Hellboy may not have (or may studiously ignore) any extranormal senses, but when there are big black shadows that suck the life out of their surroundings handy, who needs 'em? He draws the Samaritan just as the universe rips open and spits out a predatory god-wolf. Handy when things work out like that.

"Hands up, and keep your fangs where I can see 'em!" Hellboy bellows at Fenris, drawing a bead on him.


Mystique may know next to nothing of magic and have no ability to sense it for herself. That's what allies are for! Between getting word from someone that had been able to sense it and the various police chatter all resulting from the peculiar events of late, she just -has- to check it out for herself.

As a cop.

She's got the uniform. She's got the badge. She's got the attitude. She's even got the squad car. This is because she went ahead and took over the identity of one of New York's finest. Path of least resistance, and all. Sit around and try to enjoy some really horrific fast food coffee, do a little patrolling, keep an eye on the surroundings and an ear on the radio and presto, the magic begins.

The unmarked squad car gently pulls up to the curb and idles, within clear view of the manor in question. "Car ninety-one arriving on scene, over." (Now then, what's got everyone in such a fuss over this place?) How about a flash of light to kick things off? With a thin smirk passing across her face she steps out of the car and reaches back to the trunk. What manner of goodies did Officer Troy have tucked away back here?


Rain is generally pretty easy going, and not really into devouring people. Cautiously, Rain peers over to Fenris. "Hey. Captain's sitting in the windowsill. Something has him worried. There's definitely something weird going on. This magic feels familiar," She admits. She looks out over the gates, now that she's stepped outside. As for the view above, there seems to be a roiling, inky shadow congealing in front of the gate some distance away. Power, power, so much power! The shuffling undead now turn, and head towards it in unison. Some of them look like they had wine spilled on them at some point. That's very odd. Grass pales, going a bit limp, birds stop chirping and things feel like they're just being eaten away, going dull.

And now there's a cop car. The officer's trunk probably has the standard goodies. Things for getting into houses as neeed, and so on. Handcuffs, and all that jazz. Cop stuff! … hey, is that a coupon for donuts and a free coffee? Well, gotta have a snack when you watch something for ages.

Nevertheless, roiling power burns away and begins to rise, rise like the world's most sinister jell-o mold. It's a frightening amount of power, and it seems to be forming into a - person? odd. But it takes its time.


Fenris smiles warily to Rain and eyes the large 'Samaritan' with both hands raised in a peaceful gesture. "Easy there, big red and ho- er, stony." Hellboy doesn't have horns. Ooops. "I'm not the one you should be pointing that thing at… and I'm not sure either of us would like what happened if you fired it anyway."

His gaze tracks over to the front of the house. Sighing, he pulls his silver necklace off, letting it grow into a blade in short order. "I'm going to hope you were expecting this, Rain?"


The view from above isn't pretty at all. Slowly the obsidian flyer descends, almost doing the impression of the Morrigan or perhaps just a raven above an old battlefield. Black shadows and growing sinister piles of power are only half-registered, the impact on the impact of the environment making more of an impression on the ancient bird-thing.

Yes, this is definitely in the 'detrimental to the defenders' category of threat evaluation.

It continues for the moment to try and get a better feel for this anomalous situation, before getting involved in it. For all its data can tell it, this may just be a local weather phenomenon.

Yeah, right.


Hellboy growls something unintelligible. He thought Fenris was the end result of this eldritch storm: a vampire or cult priest or something that he could beat the crap out of, lecture Rain about summoning, and then call it a day. No such luck, of course: the storm is still going strong, and forming into an inky, insubstantial wicker man. His aim wavers between the two targets. He doesn't trust Fenris, or anybody who leaps through tears in reality, but at least the wolf guy is chatty and not making any overtly aggressive moves.

The friendly neighborhood demon prince reaches a decision, then bounds over the fence and races toward the creature made of gelatinous evil. As he get closer, one can note that his shabby coat has been brightened somewhat by the addition of a white, daisy-like boutonnière. Festive! He's going to close to a range at which his aim is halfway decent — ten feet, possibly — and try to pop the bogeyman right in its center of not-mass with a single Samaritan shot.


Hmmh, here we go… Remington 870 Police model, with just the right mods to make it fancy. Nothing quite gets one's point across like a pump action twelve gauge. Officer Troy helps herself then closes the trunk, checking the weapon's chamber as the grass around her starts to grow pale. Hrm… This is both unusual and new. There's still some color to be had, however. There's that giant red guy with the giant arm holding the giant revolver, for instance. Gosh, where was it that Mystique had seen someone like that before..? Many decades ago. Almost another lifetime ago. Fenris she recognizes, as well. Isn't this turning out to be quite the lovely little party.

Everyone act cool, here comes the police. Troy's dressed down though still wearing a vest and badge, and arriving just in time for Hellboy to go running away again. Which leaves Fenris. "Nice night for making a stand against the forces of evil, I suppose."


Whether anyone knows it or not, the God of Chaos has taken up residency in Moontree Manor. And why shouldn't he? It's not a publicly know thing that Rain is, indeed, a student of Loki's, but the fact remains that there are certain considerations to be made. It is, after all, a contract. And the teacher has responsibilities to the student.

Loki emerges from upstairs, and takes the steps easily and gracefully, two at a time until he is on the landing. A quick glance to the marmalade cat gives him some information, adding to the magical energy that is building just outside. "Rain," comes softly. "Did you leave an experiment in the basement?" Again?

Fenris' presence is given a smirk, as well as… what is that? If it threatens his son, well… all the better. Nothing like a touch of chaos, more chaos, at a scene.


Cats have their own ways of being touched by magic, and while poor Captain can speak and such, he just looks generally tense. He hisses out the window. "Sorry." Hissss some more. He is in full pouf mode.

Rain smiles weakly back and - hey! There's a big red - Hellboy. "Hi there, I wish I could meet you under better circumstances. And uhm. No," She admits. Who wants to think about someone coming to kill them? More and more of those shuffling souls, tinged by wine are now gathering around the rising shadow. It looks almost capelike, then dress- it's a woman, emerging from the shadows. The aura her and her power give off might make one shudder. It's the subtle, creeping horror of one who devours. One who crafts souls and mends shadows, taking the undead as slaves. The woman is tall, beautiful and dressed like she walked out of some Venetian movie on times long past. She is pale, with intensely blue eyes, black hair and a half-crazed with hunger gaze. She has horns that curl backwards, though. Odd. Guess Rain really did luck out on the ole witch's mark. Her dark red lips part in a laugh. She holds two golden chalices, full of blood red wine.

"Uhm," She looks over her shoulder to Loki. "I - not today," She offers. "It's coming from outsid— over there- Oh shit." That's one of her relatives. "Uh. That would be my great-great-great-great-stickaboutafewmoregreat aunt on there."

The woman splashes her wine on the ground, and there comes a deep rumbling. If the woman notices those around, she pointedly ignores them.

As for Officer Troy, Rain looks a bit worried. "Uhm, be careful, officer-" The ground rumbles angrily, and soon hands come ripping out of it, to join those already there.

"I believe, this house should be mine?" The woman calls over, smiling to Rain. Uh oh. "Let's see if you can defend it." And here come the undead. And even if one lacks aura senses, this woman is definitely Not Nice.


Oddly, Hellboy's attack would normally be pretty devastating. But Rain's great-somethings-aunt is no fool. He might find it kind of alarming that her dark mass splits around the bullet, shadowy tentacles rippling angrily. Once she's menaced Rain, she sneers to Hellboy. "That's no way to greet a Lady! The sentence is death~"


Fenris growls. "There's zombie on your lawn…" He notes to rain. "Don't want zombies on your lawn."

The god-wolf advances to the walkway bisecting the lawn and takes up a stance with his blade and rod. "Someone figure out what to do about that witch, kindly?" He's got magic, but other people here have better magic. Sword it is.

The first wave of undead don't even make it to the blade. With a flick of the rod Fenris calls hurricane force winds to simply bowl them all over into the fence with… rather messy results where point meets dead flesh.


The cropped-horn demon-thing approaching the burbling fetid mass of growing power gives the avianoid pause, and it was about to shout out words of declaration and alarm to it. However, its intention at the moment appears to be on the focal point of the situation and NOT on being a Possessing Scumbag. This means that Red gets a 'pass' for the moment. Corvinus can almost feel the presence of Fenris, and that brings a bit of inward calm and relief despite the clamouring of the partner within.

"This one would beg to differ. As possession is nine-tenths of human law, this residence is the proper demense of the current occupant. One will immediately and forthwith depart from this place, time, and realm or suffer the consequences." It shouts that down to the ancient crone. It does not anticipate a positive reaction to its words, so it is already shifting to a more combative setting.

Rain's an enlightened sentient who was very kind to it during a recent visit. There is no call for this sort of shenanigan right now. Absolutely none.

"And stop wasting such a vintage!"


Hellboy's revolver goes off like a naval cannon — not that it accomplishes anything. All the white oak, holy water, and silver shavings in the world won't do a damned bit of good if they don't actually hit their target. "Try it, lady!" he shouts at Rain's great-to-the-nth-power aunt, shutting one bright yellow eye to line up another shot.

But her zombie minions are having none of it, leaping onto Hellboy, biting, clawing, and scratching him all over. "Ugh! You guys smell terrible!" the BPRD agent yells, sensibly prioritizing the threats the shambling undead pose to the general public. He's grabbing animate corpses off of himself and flinging them every which way in a matter of seconds, but he has dropped his hand cannon. And one of the bastards has its teeth clamped into his shoulder and just will. not. let. go!


Add in some lovely horned woman and some wicked laughter and some very chilly feeling energy in the air, Mystique doesn't need to be a magic user to know that something's wrong and things are about to get real. "Lady, if it's your house then you'll have a key to the door." If she had any idea that Loki is already inside…

Her first thought when the ground starts to shake is that a fissure is about to open up beneath them all. Instead what greets them all is a scene that would have been fitting in just about any zombie movie ever made. It's entirely possible that Officer Troy, or the mutant pretending to be her, got a little caught off guard by this, if the measured yelp and jump is anything to go by. Then a blast of wind comes out of nowhere and flings her right off of her feet, though fortunately it doesn't carry her all the way to the Fence of Gore.

"Somebody get Romero on the line!"

Wind, magical swords, verbal threats… Big Red over there knows where it's at. In Buckshot We Trust. Oh, and he's also got a good throwing arm. "Hey Red! Pull!"



Loki wanders rather calmly out to the porch to see the goings on, and catches Fenris doing the sword strike, complete with the hurricane winds; the latter a technique he'd used only about a week or so ago. Like father, like son. What works, works!

Catching Rain's explanation of things, and thus identifying the witch, Loki exhales in an exhasperated sigh. "This is my home now," comes rather conversationally, green eyes flickering towards the battle of undead and back to the witch. With a raise of his hand, one… two… three… four… and finally five versions of himself, all dressed in armor, wielding a rather nasty looking polearms are ready to enter the fray, if only to take some heat off of Hellboy there. (Even if it is amusing to watch zombie-pile on the demon!) Well, it might help Fenris a little as well.

If the witch is watching, she'll see that those conjurations took very little effort on his part.

A shield is generated for Mystique, even if he doesn't quite know it's she yet. There will be no bouncing into the Fence of Gore for her!


"Yeah, I know their type…" Rain wrinkles her nose and nods to Fenris. Captain howls, unhappily and bolts from his window. Rain can't fault him. She'd like to go hide somewhere right about now. Really. She really would like to hide or be someplace NOT full of zombies and she's really kind of horrified. "Great. My own family wants to off me Darwin-style." Sigh. By now, any 'normal' civilians have long since taken cover and might be peeping out with smartphone or camera- from a window. "She's more than a few centuries old," Rain offers. "But she's flesh and bone, barring some weird ass shadow powers," She recounts. "And she hates fire. And holy water. It's an unusual weakness in our line. Family barbeques sucked. Anyway, she's my relative, so -" Rain will help. "I'll ward the house up, so if you start getting hurt, fall back a bit." Rain's kind of frail for frontline action.

And she also might help with the odd fire spell, but she's going to keep her aunt *out* and the undead from getting behind them.

At Corvinus' call, the woman smirks. "Then have a sip, little birdie. Should I make a pie of you?" She licks a canine ominously. "I've never eaten one like you," And she slings wine from the goblet, which oddly, refills itself shortly afterwards. But he's got a cup's worth of wine coming at him. As for Hellboy, she whirls on her feet, and throws a few shadowy tentacles at him. "Tch-" What's this? More people? The undead are tenacious, but mindless.

She looks to the officer, glowering. Her dark blue eyes seem to harden. "Know thy place, mortal! Kneel!" Tentacles come bursting up from the ground and then - it's HER turn for an oh crap moment. Loki? AND Fenris? She looks a bit surprised. "How rude." She offers. How can he conjure so effortlessly? She has to pause. All of that casting and yet- "It matters not. DIE." She's crazed, hungry and feeling nothing but contempt for her far younger relative. But this frenetic burst of power and summoning, even on a centuries old witch, takes a good deal of energy. And remembering Rain's own limitations, this woman is pushing it. She can't keep it up for long. Not much longer, perhaps. She had figured Rain would be alone. A mortal pushover.


Fenris begins to walk forward. The blade he's holding looks a bit like something out of Game of Thrones, except he whips it around like a willow switch. Any Zombie that gets to close is either cloven in twain (that being the proper way to describe the effortless brutality he employs) or blasted into the nearst hard or pointy object with the gale rod. "Loki." Fenris notes to one of the projections. Now's not the time for their usual repartee. "Red! Try fire!" He doesn't have any himself but a demon might, right? Corvinus gets a look. Philosophy bird is fighting? And there's a police woman… wwith a magical shield. Never a dull moment.


The big red demon-thing is being swamped… then again.. it seems to be holding its own. In microseconds of analysis and consideration The Corvinus shunts assistance to the entity to a third-tier priority, assessing the remaining players in the scenario. Fenris is handling himself well. Rain is under cover. Some crazy police officer is approaching with a shotgun in support of the red demon — a bit odd, but workable.

Then the God of Mischief appears in quintuplicate.

"Well. This is—ACCKKKKKKKK"

The wine splashes all over the bird-thing… and then there's a sizzling sound, and arcing and sparking as ancient arcane lightning coruscates through its body with a squawk of agony. It reorients itself, talons extending fully as it aims itself downward at the thing that just splashed it.

"PROTOCOL SIX SIX SEVEN POINT ONE IN EFFECT!" it shouts with quite possibly the angriest tone anyone who has conversated with it in the past can recall. Whatever that means.

Probably something having to deal with the death and/or dismemberment of the witch.

Someone here knows his codename? It doesn't even occur to Hellboy that literally anyone looking at him would leap to the conclusion that obviously he would be called Red. He finally yanks Bitey Bill off of his shoulder and flings him into the air on MysTroy's signal, to explode into late-of-boomstick mist to the accompaniment of Hellboy's barked, basso laugh. The rest of the clambering dead are dispensed with by a single sweep of the Right Hand of Doom.

Fenris's suggestion, however, leaves a sour expression on Hellboy's face. "Sure thing, Ace," he answers, his left hand darting into his coat and then tossing Fenris… a battered antique Zippo lighter.

That done, the lumbering demon stoops to grab his revolver, then bullrushes the wall of zombies between himself and Auntie Funtimes like the offensive lineman from literally Hell. Smelly, decomposing body parts go flying in all directions, and when Hellboy finally gets in range for a flying leap at the necromancer, he's actually carrying one: a rotting leg clad only in a steel-toed boot, which is currently swinging directly for the elder witch's head.


Heeey, check out who's now rockin' a shield! Troystique isn't expecting this either, though it's also quickly adapted to. This should make her zombie slaying efforts much easier! Another shell, another pile of undead. The smell is truly remarkable, you've gotta be here to fully appreciate it.

The shield may prevent her from flying around in the windstorm but it would appear to not work quite so well against tentacles snaking out from the ground. Shotgun goes down. The officer goes down. Though not easily with the latter.

"What makes you so certain I am a mortal?" she asks, her voice seamlessly melting from that of Officer Troy into something appropriately dark and sinister. It's a perfect mix of high tones and low, two voices speaking as one as formerly blue eyes dissolve into solid pools of golden-hued light.

'Red! Try fire!' Chemical combustion only takes the right mixture of ingredients. She's done this trick before. The officer's very skin and clothing starts to take on the consistency of petroleum before outright igniting where she kneels.

She won't be kneeling for long.


Loki can easily give a reason why and how he conjures so easily. But he won't. This mortal doesn't deserve such a thing. "It will take a great deal more than that to kill me, witch." A glance towards Hellboy as he carries the lighter and tosses it to Fenris causes his hand to raise to aid the conflagration, but he exhales in disappointment. "Just light the fire," is grumped. "I know you can do that."

Meanwhile, the multiple Lokis, while not doing any true damage, they are taking a good deal of attention away with the zombies so they can easily be cleav'ed in twain.

When the officer goes down, Loki catches the tenor of his… her… it's voice and a thin smile creases his face. He -knows- that voice and his attention swings around to where (s)he fights. The conflagration is aided magically, a hand simply rising before fingers that are held together splay out as if releasing something. And there… flames shoot high into the sky.

His allies never kneel. (Not to anyone but him, of course.)


It probably means Rain's aunt is about to experience Angry Bird(s) personally. HD really has improved, hasn't it? Rain herself is helping the household help, well, keep the horde from passing through around back. "Damnable- Die! I'll devour you to your last bone!" She is piiiiisssed off. She tries to sling wine at Fenris. She could use a strong minion, yes? But it's not likely to hit, given she's being swatted at by an Angry Bird. The skeet shot of the undead might be pretty funny, were it not her minion. Wine spills from her cup to repair a few, but the red drink is refilling ever more slowly.

Rain's aunt is a nimble opponent, but she's being dogpiled and casting furiously. So she gets a bird divebombing, then looks up in time to notice Hellboy swinging a leg with a boot on it at her head. "What the- HOW DARE—" *WHACK* She gets knocked down, hard. The tentacles near any sort of fire burn away, hissing furiously.

Troystique is correct. Not kneeling for long at all, as shadows melt and burn up. Rain was right. And she knew because of an incredibly awkward family barbeque. Go figure. "This is- merely- A delay! Come, my servants!" The wine is running low… Although, it seems perhaps, they and their owner might be linked. And right now, she's eating lawn, so it sounds more like "Thifh if- merely-" She's struggling to right herself, seeing stars. The witch is down on the ground, but she's gone full bonkers. "Hff-" Flop. Struggle.

As for Loki, she'd glower. But she's faceplanted. "Tch, lies!" Again, tchff, lieff!


Fenris catches the lighter in time to send it on over born aloft on storm winds to add it's spark to any residue Troystique left in her wake. Fwoooosh. Heh. Not like Muspelhiem perhaps, but quite satisfying in it's way. Another pair of zombies lose their heads over Fenris' display of swordsmanship (ba-dum-tish) as he clears an open line of sight to the witch. With a sour face he snaps the rod in her direction, gathering the winds beneath her and then flinging her none to gently in Hellboy and Troy's direction.

"Special Delivery."


The Red demon has some brains and some tactics. That's good.. and then the slumped witch goes flying and that goblet…

Yes. It dives down and strikes out at the wrist with talons capable of rending some modern armors, putting momentum and force behind the strike to try and sever it from her control and grasp. It would have grabbed the goblet proper, but after the effects of the contents it was not going to take that risk. Regardles of outcome it is forced to landing and a skip-hopping sort of movement to kill its momentum.

The flaming officer catches its left eye for only a brief instant for a tactical consideration after the assault. It is fighting some wind and fire at the moment… and the consideration of not colliding with any of the entities that may be the Unpredictable One. After a few seconds of re-orientation it aligns itself for another slashing run if the first one fails.

Of course, Hellboy hadn't actually planned out his leap past the whole 'kicking the evil witch in the head with her own zombie's leg' thing, so he ends up plummeting ass-first onto another windswept klatch of zombies. Shambling of zombies? Who even knows what the collective noun is — the point is that landing on one is about as foul-smelling and undignified an experience as he cares to remember.

By the time he extricates himself from the tangle of their limbs (their torsos are probably around somewhere), Corvinus is already operating. "Hey! Gross! Stop it — I'm impounding that cup!" He's too far off to actually enforce his demand, but he grabs a passport case out of his pocket and starts waving around his BPRD credentials, as if those will carry any weight.


The problem with something like a chemical burn is that fire consumes fuel quickly, and that fuel happens to be in the form of Mystique. Every second she burns she's sacrificing more of herself, which means she's going to have a -real- big dinner tonight. Once she's up and freed of the witch's hold the fires go out, flame replaced with what would appear to be a woman made of liquid mercury skin, the lingering fires glistening across the mirrored organic covering.

A quick backflip lets her catch the fallen shotgun from the lawn, racking the action and popping it up to her shoulder in the same instant that she drops low with one foot sliding out wide to her side. Just in time for a special delivery from Fenris. One ancient aunt witch, served up rare.


As another steel and plastic hull flicks out of the receiver with a solid *Chik-CHAK!* she casts those solid hued eyes toward the nearest Loki clone, grinning. "Well hello there, tall, dark, and handsome. Have you decided to join in on the fun?"


Loki is more than happy allowing the others to do most of the work. He's got his Loki's up, and the aid in the conflagration given, he's actually ready to retire back into the house.

"Join in?" Half of the Loki's speak in tandem. "You really don't think I've been doing nothing, do you?" As a matter of fact, Fenris' half-sister, Hel, probably is quite aware of the dead souls being used in this magic and is quite ready to recollect them. If no one else realizes it, should the zombies begin to simply fall down, perhaps the wolf-god might.


That goblet is an object of significant power, which has been around the witch long enough to function independently of her. It does seem to refill itself, after all. Nasty thing to have laying about, that. Between gouts of fire, being kicked upside the head, and then suddenly being flung by winds, she has no real way to stop the bird's rampaging attack. She's definitely going to lose the hand, refusing to part with the cup. There's a howl of pain. Tentacles rise up and flail around her, but her magic is draining, especially when the cup is out of her grasp. It seems Rain's affliction of using an object is not necessarily unique. And that some witches are quite sensible about their choices.

And then suddenly, the witch IS the target, flying into the air. She's howling in agony as she's shot full blast. It seems with her magic drained as it is, and her relic pulled away, she is in fact, perfectly mortal. She's downed and fading, though shadows struggle to mend. And then her servants fall. It's the end. She's lost a hand from the wrist, she's bleeding out. "This was… supposed… to be easy…" And Rain probably doesn't even want to see. It's a bit painful to bear. The dead fall, yes, like leaves, thrown from their branches. Rain looks out, as a woman in a long sweater, with a cigar in her mouth and a shotgun in her hands follows. Roller derby succubus lady! "… Oh."

All that's left is settling the cup and such.

Also, it must really suck to have one's last moment be to BE the ball. On the other hand, flying!


Fenris lowers his rod and lets his blade shrink down back into a necklace which he replaces on his neck. "Family squabble?" He quirks an eyebrow at Rain (and Loki). The god-wolf peers at the goblet but seems to have no interest in recovering it. Let the others squabble about that. Speaking of the others, Corvinus, Hellboy and Troystique all get a nod of thanks. "Unique talent you have there. No wonder my father seems so taken with you."


The bird-thing finally comes to a halt from its skid-hopping and makes a couple of short hops back by the goblet. It does not pick up the tainted object, but instead stands sentry over the artifact until the one that shouted out a legal responsibility over it arrives.

It gives a slight bob of the head to all present, and the talons retract slowly, feathers no longer ruffled as it considers.

"We all learned something today, yes? Then this is good for all."

How about that: the bird guy is actually listening. Hellboy makes a satisfied little grunt and tucks his badge back into his coat. He glances down as he does so, and notices something: his boutonnière is no longer white. It's dark red. And it's not a bloodstain or anything: his coat and, indeed, part of the flower are flecked with blackish ichor, which is what the zombies were splattering everywhere as Mystique blasted them. This is different: the daisy's natural color seems to have changed.

"Loki!" he hisses. His head snaps up, and he grabs the nearest Loki by its collar. Well, tries to; as it's a sort of phantom, he's not actually going to succeed. He whirls, searching for the real one. "Tricksters," he mutters. It's one of his own personal swear words.


"Rare is it for me to truly know what you are up to, dear," Mystique replies to the nearest Chaos Clone. "That's half of the fun. In all things chaotic, all which is safe to assume is that it exists." In this case it exists a minimum of five times!

With the witch minus one hand and goblet and up several steel pellets in her person the metamorph stands and turns just enough to level the shotgun at the horned aunt's face. Remember to aim for the head, kids! That's where the pudding is. It's only the comment from Fenris which stays her trigger finger, glancing to the creature with a twisted grin. "What's not to appreciate?"

Maybe the fact that she's about to explode the downed witch's skull like Gallagher does with watermelons.

"Oh indeed, I've learned that witch hunting remains a viable sport," she replies to the chatty bird. "And that Red seems to have something against my companion."


Loki is inside the house once more, but his copies are still out of doors, doing what the can, and serving as his eyes. As the witch goes down, one, two.. they blink out of existence, but three remain.

One of those three, then, is the 'victim' of Hellboy's attack, and his hand goes right through the illusion. A laugh sounds from the trio's throats, and their heads shake. Only one speaks, however, and its words are for Hellboy. "Do you really believe it is that easy to touch me?"


Another turns to look at the rest there gathered, as well as the witch as she, well, goes down in flames. (And an assault victim.) "Families are the worst. Only they can find a way to truly hurt you." Though now, Loki can't help but echo Mystique's, "What's not to appreciate? She is a lovely creature."


"… she used to be nice to me. Before I had magic. And this house," Rain rubs the back of her head. She sighs deeply. Second relative to get taken out, this one violently. Although, considering she ate people and wrought havoc with the undead… well, she kinda had it coming. A lot. That, and the whole trying to murder off weaker, younger relatives to eat them and claim their stuff. Also definitely not cool.

Rain glances among the group, seeming quieter. "Yeah, I guess we did. Thank you guys for helping. If you wanted to rest, or have something to eat or drink, let me know. It's the least I could do." She seems well mannered enough. But there's sort of a tiredness to it.

From the ground, the intense woman glowers malevolently at Mystique. Even in her dying breath, she only whispers hate and hunger. It was supposed to be easy. Rain's a magical pushover by comparison. Captain finally pokes his head out of the doorway, still puffed up. His trenchcoat is even straining to hold all that fluff.

Though, Rain winces at mention of witch hunting as a sport. She goes quiet, nodding at Loki's words. "I suspect so. I don't care who takes the goblet. Just - don't leave it laying around." It's painful for Rain to think about and she wants none of it. If it's examined, it turns out that it can infect mortals with undeath, strengthen undead or fizzle on those protected. Nasty bit of magic, that.

Also, Rain's aunt? Not dodging. She does an alarmingly accurate impression of that guy on Screamers if/when Mystique pulls the trigger (if not already).


Fenris is walking back, away from the BPRD officer and the Philosophy Bird. Because no, he doesn't want that damn goblet either if one of them are going to take it. "It's fine Rain, and you're welcome. Glad you're okay."

Everything seems to be in order here… well as in order as it can be with Loki about. He smirks when Mystique observes that Red has an issue with his father. "Who doesn't?" The god-wolf asks wryly as he tears open a Way, nods once more to everyone and then steps through.


Hellboy hmphs at Loki's posturing, unimpressed. He'll get to the mischief god in time. For now, he needs to deal with this cup thing. He grabs the enchanted goblet with his invulnerable hand, sneering at it distastefully and being very, very careful not to spill any of the liquid as it refills. "The Bureau is gonna have a fit about this one," he mutters. With no further pleasantries, he heads back to where he parked. Sociable, that one.


The avianoid glances at Rain. "This one would gladly accept one's hospitality, however, the partner needs to rest. Please accept this one's apologies and condolences on the loss of a kin-mate, and may one carry… partner's term: "'Fondness for the good memories she left you'"

The bird-thing tilts its head at the person exploding skulls, then shrugs. "Be sure to burn the remains. This one has seen others get up from a violent decapitation. No offense, Rain."

It launches itself into the skies and is lost to sight. It's a bit of a misdirection, given that it lives in the neighborhood.. it just wants to shake any pursuit long enough to get Jim to a private location so he can get home.


No one's objecting, which means Mystique pulls the trigger. (If someone -had- objected then she would have fired sooner!)

"I've found him to at least be tolerable," she jokes back with Fenris as he steps out through another portal. See? This had been -much- more fun than lurking about in the shadows! It's good to get out there and interact with others once in a while. And, occasionally, shoot them.

With a lilting sigh she turns back to the imaginary Loki, "I suppose I should find someone else to impersonate now." Those still remaining are cast a salute with the barrel of her shotgun which is by no means sincere, the mercury skin flooding back with color and texture until Officer Troy returns in all of her copied glory. So long, and thanks for all the zombies!

Now to go mess with the police dispatcher some more…


"Rain, bring that into the house. I will remove it's magicks," the trio of Loki's respond. "The last thing anyone needs is something like that." Oooor, not. An exasperated sign exits the trio, and one blinks out of existence. Then, one more.. leaving on illusory Loki about.

"I really could have helped." As if Loki would! (He would! Honestly! Now he has to enchant something that'll directly negate the effects, and without the goblet, it'll be more hit or miss. This'll take him a fair bit.


Rain waves to those departing. Captain seems to be slowly calming, but immense fluff requires defluffing time. Rain looks to Corvinus. "That's fine. You two can visit another day," She nods to him. "Yeah… it's… Thank you," Gonna be a little tough when she murdered a large number of mortals, collected large numbers of the damn and attempted to outright murder Rain. Betrayal stings. She doesn't say much more, and will quietly set about to cleaning. She smiles at the fellows departing.

Though, she looks to Loki's. "Yeah, I ag— I guess it's in protective custody," She considers. "As long as it's not out for someone to muck with," She sighs softly. "Should I fetch anything?" She asks Loki.

Rain waves to Mystique, and Rain's aunt? Is definitely no more. Although, burning the ex-witch might be wise in general. The area seems much brighter once more. But a little clean up would be wise, at the least.

Back to: RP Logs

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License