Who You Gonna Call?

Summary:
November 25, 2014: Trying to relax after work is futile.

A bar in Manhattan.


Characters

NPCs


Mood Music:


"Nice shot," Barry says, holding the pool cue down in a bar in Little Italy. It was close proximity to work and close proximity to where he lives, so that makes it excellent for him. As to what the other two were doing here, well perhaps it was just taking pity on the new guy. Either way, they seemed nice enough, and there were worse ways to spend a Friday evening.

Paul nods his agreement as Sara sinks the ball on a bank shot. "Remind me never to play for money with you." he tells his partner. Not that he actually plays pool but a 'normal' night out has become rare enough that he had to be prodded into it.

Sara needs more drinks in her life. So despite the fact that there's more work that could be done, she managed to drag herself and Paul away. She grins as she straightens from the table, stepping around to take another shot. "I have only terrible things to say about my skills with one of these," she chuckles, moving to another point at the table.

Barry chuckles and puts the cue up on the board, "I gotta hit the head, guys." He gives a nod to the pair and then begins to careen past the throngs of people, across the sticky floors that snatch up at his Chuckies. One look at the line and…well…he's gotta go.

Barry ducks out the back door into the cold alleyway; he can see his breath as he tries to scope a place to go.

"The mark of a true shark." Paul points out. "Say only terrible things about your skill, then clear the table once the money goes down." He finishes his beer, nodding to Barry as the man starts to leave. "I'll get us another round."

Sara winks at Paul's comment, sinking another ball. "I've been practicing with staves lately?" she tries, stepping back from the table a bit as the boys head out. "Nah. Just something I picked up when I was doing more undercover work. Criminals are, shall we say, easily distracted."

"Hey, Chuck. Come on man, let's go!" The voice from outside the stall is an irritant as Charles is looking to sort out a few lines atop the toilet paper dispenser. But from below something gurgles, nastily. Something guttural. Charlie looks out over the end of the toilet, down into the abyss.

From out in the main bar room there is a terrible scream and someone is thrown straight away out of the bathroom and through the false wall in the hallway. A terrible roar cries out, combined with shrieks inside the men's bathroom!

"A likely story." Paul calls back over his shoulder as he heads to the bar. "You probably worked your way through college cheating stupid frat boys." He puts a foot on the bar rail, waiting for the bartender to get to him when the man flies through the wall. "Christ, doesn't it ever end?" It's a rhetorical question. "Everyone out the front!" he calls as he draws his gun. "Now! Move it!"

"Who went to college?" Sara calls back with an arch of her brow, sobering quickly when the screaming starts. "Never does," she shakes her head to Paul, dropping the cue and stepping in to start waving people toward the exit. "NYPD, let's clear it out, people," she calls above the crowd.

A few seconds later an impossibly large beast breaks through the entire doorway of the bathroom sending splinters out at high velocity. Large. Purple. Angry. Horns. It's a demon of some sort, and it seems as thoughby the way it cranes its neckit is looking for somebody or something. To the right? No, nothing that way. To the left? His black eyes turn towards Paul Manning.

Demon. Fucking wonderful. On the bright side, it's large enough that Paul can't possibly miss as he fires at it. "Get those people out, Sara." His tone is almost casual as he keeps shooting at the demon. "You have a choice." he tells it. "You can voluntarily go back to hell now or we can send you there and it'll be much less enjoyable for you. You can tell what I am." The damn Rapture is like a beacon to them.

"Working on it," Sara calls back to Paul, pushing open the emergency exits and propping the doors open when she can to keep people moving. "Let me know if you need a hand with that. You know. In case getting freaky looking doesn't take care of it." There's a glimmer at her wrist and around her eyes, the Witchblade creeping into activity despite her attempts to keep it quiet.

"You fool!" the Demon says and he's lifting a purple forefinger with a long black fingernail to make his point, but just as he does he goes and SLAMS face first, down into the ground amid a crackle of electricity.

The Flash appears from behind him and skids to a stop just in front of Pezzini and Manning. "Anyone know what that thing is?" he asks, even as it is starting to get back up.

Paul would really like to avoid getting freaky looking in public. Sara knows well thw downsides to it. But there doesn't seem much chance to avoid it since it's not backing… down. Face first. "A demon from hell." he tells Flash, putting his gun away since it didn't even slow it down. "Seriously, don't get too close to it. No telling what powers it might have."

"Something ugly," Sara guesses at the same time that Paul provides his answer. "Demon seems like a safe guess, though." As more and more people leave willingly - now that they can see the big, ugly monster - she's free to turn her attention back to the others, Witchblade sheathing her forearm.

"Well, he certainly is a looker," the Flash says with a shrug of his shoulders. His back is to Paul, obscuring the face of the hero. His voice also sounds as if it's being fed through a filter. The Demon swings his arm and flays out his fingers as lightning bolts begin heading straight for Paul!

But, by the time the lightning gets there, Paul has been pulled to the other side of the room via the Flash.

"Thanks." Paul tells the superhero but he doesn't sound happy about it. Or maybe it's just the demon which would be enough to make anyone unhappy. "Look, just… Oh, never mind. Just." Just lots of things. He nods to Sara and a second later has transformed into what looks a lot like a dmeon as well except it's wearing a large double cross necklace.

"Hey!" Sara reaches for the abandoned pool cue, spinning it in her hand as she tries to catch the demon's attention. "You want to try that again?" More tendrils spread across her form, armor protecting her against the inevitable counterattack.

"Well, now I've seen everything," The Flash says as he looks over his shoulder and now sees this is going to be some demon on demon action, "You got any advice on how to fight these guys? Sort of a rookie here on this one." A mighty swipe comes at Flash, who easily dodges. Meanwhile Sara's twirling does get his attention just a bit, enough to open up for Paul.

"Don't let it grab you." Paul advises. Unfortunately, the Rapture form doesn't give him any really cool powers. Not even a sword. As soon as Sara distracts it, he lunges it to try to tackle and pummel it with his fists. "You had your chance." he tells it. "Don't you have any friends to tell you I have a partner? And while it doesn't hate demons as much as some magic swords, she does."

"I've kind of got the cheat code," Sara admits to the flash, as tendrils of Witchblade grow up and around the pool cue until it's sheathed in barbed metal as well. "I usually just hit them until they stop getting back up. Hey, ugly." She follows up the greeting with a full-bodied swing of the cue at the demon's head, working around Paul.

"Yeah, that's something I'm pretty good at," The Flash admits. He hasn't really been hit by the bad guys all that often.

SMACK

The Demon wails as Sara hits it right in the kisser. It's followed by a super powered punch via the Flash. It screams in pain, and seems to be getting angrier.

"That's usually a good way." Paul grunts as he slams a fist into the demon's face. Like the Witchblade, he can do real damage to them and he doesn't need a toy to do it. Though there's something to be said for maintaining some distance since a return punch sends him flying across the bar to crash into the mirror… and all t hose liquor bottles.

"Paul!" Sara grimaces as her partner goes flying, a blade forming at the end of the cue. "You know, buddy," she snarls at the demon, "I'm not losing another partner, so this is about to go poorly for you." Fully armored, she dives in again, pole arm spinning to slice at throat and chest in smooth motions. She really has been working on this.

As Sara slashes across the Demon's throat, the Flash is smashing a punch against the demon's knee. Her cut goes upward and black goo is sprayed all over her face. The demon would scream, if he could, and the torn knee doesn't help either. The Flash comes to a stop near Sara, "I can grab napkins. Napkins?" He looks over at Paul.

Paul climbs back to his feet, ignoring the glass shards that cover him as he charges the demon. "It's all good." he tells his partner. "I'm built for this." With the added momentum, his knuckles slam into its chest and something cracks. "Cut its head off."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Sara nods firmly, Witchblade pulling free of the cue and forming instead a wicked, broad, curved blade that she handles with confidence. "Gonna need a mop more than napkins," she adds to the Flash as she dives in, slicing toward the creature's head.

THHHHHWUMP

The demon's head comes off in a swoop by Sara and Flash makes a face. He turns to look at Paul, then at Sara. "Guess you two don't really come from the normal side of the tracks, huh?" His voice is a little bit more normal now, and he's not trying to conceal his face anymore (aside from the mask).

Once the demon dies, it crumbles into nothing. "We warned it." Paul says, shaking his head. The next moment he's human again, his clothes hiding the necklace once more. Some day he might figure out where they go and come back from. At Flash's question, he looks at the hero a moment. "Umm. Think of us as Ghostbusters?"

"And there's a song that's not getting out my head tonight," Sara groans at Paul's explanation, stepping back as the demon disappears. "Thanks, partner." Slowly, the Witchblade retracts, leaving only a weary NYPD officer to look back at the Flash. "They call us Extranormal Investigations for a reason?"

"Yeah," the Flash responds with a chuckle. "You told me you two had the weird cases. I guess I should have taken you at your word." With a crackle of electricity, Flash leaves just as Barry returns. The voice is the same. "How are we going to clean up this mess before our boys in blue arrive?"

Paul's brows rise as he makes the connection and he looks at Sara with one of those 'did you know?' looks. Then at the question, he looks around at the destruction in the bar. "No fire damage so it can't be a gas main explosion." And they're not going to torch the place. "Big guy on drugs. Bath salts maybe. Or PCP. He was disfigured, maybe in a fire at some point in the past. But human. Witnesses were drinking and things happened fast. We'll put an APB out but he managed to get away."

"Sounds good to me," Sara nods to Paul's suggestion, shaking her head slightly at the look. Nope. She didn't know. "So…Nope, right back to only terrible things to say," she cuts herself off with a brief, rueful smile for Barry. "I'll just settle for letting you know late lab results definitely aren't an option."

"Well, I'll have to respond by letting you know the results are never late. They always show up precisely when I mean them to be, Pezzini. You can't rush science." Barry gives an upwards nod, "Oh. Didn't even finish my drink."


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