2020-01-05 - Toss A Coin To Your Entertainment - Group 2

Summary:

An invitation to a fun event is anything but.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Sun Jan 5 03:45:52 2020
Location: RP Room 2

Related Logs

None

Theme Song

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phobosambroseshayera-holcain-mccormickpeter-parkerranna-pryde

The invitations came in the mail. the invitations came via social media. The invitations came via email. How many got the invitations isn't known. They weren't personalised and there were no restrictions on who could come along.

"Join us for a day of frivolity and fun. Opening special. Bring yourself, bring your friends. New Amusement parlour opening day - the best of the best, the newest of the newest."

The location is a building on the edge of Battery Park. There's a bright neon sign inviting people to enter. When each person walks through the door though, they find themselves in a small almost medieval style town, with a castle towering to one side and small, squat, buildings to the other. One section of buildings is more affluent - merchants perhaps? But the further out for the castle, the more run down and squalid the buildings seem to be.

Each person is dressed in 'period'. Some are armoured up with halberds and swords. Others in skirts or rough hewn trousers.

In the distance there's a rumble - it sounds like something approaching. A lot of somethings …

For those who have been bingeing the streaming services for the holiday period, the setting might be … vaguely familiar.

Isis had received an invitation and invited some friends along. When they step through the door, the slim feline-like mutant finds herself wearing heavy skirts and a blouse. "What's going here?" she growls a little. The emotion coming from the mutant is anger and fright, mixed with just a touch of the feral.


"…what in the ruddy hell…"

Ambrose plucks at his clothing. No longer a trenchcoat, but a longcoat of dark leather overtop a thick jerkin and undershirt; trousers to replace his jeans, and…well, they used to be combat boots. Now they're an affair of buckles in bronze that gleam against the knee-high boots. And where are his revolvers?! He's got a pair of long-knives and various daggers tucked into places here and there.

At least he can see a familiar face in Isis, she who once growled at him over calamari at dinner with Pepper. He smiles slightly from the shadows of his cowl pulled up over his head and steps over. "Miss Isis…" calls the Jackal, announcing himself even as the rumbling catches half of his attention. He steps up near to Isis, grimacing. "What witchcraft is this?" His British accent remains sharp and crisp but for the rounding of syllables. Nervy enough to let his curse show, his pupils flash blood-red in the odd angles of light.


Having been cajoled into accompanying Isis ("Alright, FINE."), Shayera stops next to the feline-like young woman, wearing similarly heavy skirts and blouse… somehow still not obstructing her wings. She looks at Isis, does a double-take at the change in clothing, then looks at her own and says something exceedingly rude in her native language if her tone of voice is anything to go by. Thankfully, it looks like she still has her mace and arm guards despite how incongruent they are with her current linen and wool attire.

When someone unfamiliar wearing all black with red eyes addresses Isis, she promptly steps between them in a protective manner, raising her mace and flaring her wings. "Do you have something to do with this?" she asks Ambrose in the curt manner of a soldier or police officer.


Peter Parker finds himself switched from a hooded sweatshirt and jeans to a tightly hooded jerkin and leggings. A thief's garb, in truth, if he has his D&D lore right. And, being Peter Parker, he has that at the very least. Thankfully, he still has his webshooters and a nice little kerchief he can pull up to cover his face.

With noise on the horizon being nicely distracting, it gives the webslinger a chance to scramble up onto a rooftop to get a closer look and give him a chance to observe the situation. He hasn't had much time for streaming services, though, so he's in the dark as to what's going on other than some seriously hardcore fantasy LARPing.

Which, to be fair, he'd be kind of down for.


As Cain steps through the portal, he blinks several times, his speed allowing him to see the transformation of his attire from jeans, bomber jacket and knit sweater to trews, cuir-bouli over a gambeson. His sturdy boots turning into…sturdy boots of real leather, instead of faux. As he was not armed, he remains so, and can't help but look around avidly at the others present.

Eyes of green narrow, and then he starts to sparkle and shimmer a bit with crackling purple energy which anyone with magical sensitivity will feel - hell - to Ambrose's curse, this guy is like a walking talking season pass to an all you can eat mana buffet. For two.

Which might well be very bad for Cain.

Still, once he crackles, the man darts off at a leisurely two-hundred fifty miles an hour, you know, a jog. Quickly he dashes off towards that noise to see what it is, pretty sure he can outrun a threat if one pops up.


The thundering gets louder as the group mills around. It's the sound of feet and horses and … something that howls.

Cain sees them first. The horde that's nearly on the courtyard where they all stand. These are mostly humans - or human in appearance. Dressed in armour and mail, some riding horses that look more like wolves. Oh wait, they are wolves … sort of. He has scant moments before they're on the group.

"I … don't know…" Is all Isis has time for as the horde appears just ahead in the thoroughfare. Seeing the group that stands there, the wolves howl and lead the charge at the group.


Shayera gets a hard and glinting look from the shadows of Ambrose's cowl before he looks away, towards the encroaching sound of far too many boots — hooves — padded feet — horrors.

"I would be at home sipping tea but for my own curiosity. No, I have jack-all to do with this," replies he to the woman. Cain's got his attention almost as a lodestone; the Bane slinks up beneath his skin and tingles in a spread of hungry goosebumps. "But I suppose it's time for dinner…"

As the wolves, ridden by armored men, approach, he steps out even as he plucks off his gloves. A hand goes outstretched, tendons lifting in tension, and he bares his teeth. The Bane, invisible to all but those with magical sight, tendrils out like liquid garnets towards them, intending to thrash into their life-forces and begin to drain.

-

It had been a few moments since Alexander had crossed the threshold of other-worldliness. A few minutes at most of the world shifting and his clothing changing. Going from the casual wear of a youthful college aged New Yorker to the garb of a noble's son most likely, a fine doublet with a vest, breeks and riding boots, as well as a sword at his hip hanging from a leather strap and belt. Black and grey were the colours to accompany it, as if it were some suitable house that he belonged to.
Though that sword at his side would have gotten him thrown out of any respectable renaissance faire considering it is definitely not period. A katana? How gauche. And it was green. Madness.
But as soon as he had emerged and shifted, the blond youth's smile broadened and was he filled with trepidation? Not at all. In fact he rushed forward for a bit amongst the crowd of people initially and only now is returning as he runs toward the sound of mayhem and likely ruckus. Emerging from a side street he skids to a halt and asks, "Hey where are the turkey… drum… sticks…" He stops as he sees the tableau being played out before him.


Peter Parker may not know exactly what's going on. Or where he is. Or who any of these other people are. Probably. Maybe he met some of them before. He meets a lot of people. But he -does- know bad guys when he sees them. The people riding wolves are probably not great, he's guessing. Especially since they're on the attack.

Spidey scrambles up to the peak of a roof and fires off some webbing, creating tangle traps to try to wrap up the oncoming onslaught of wolf-riders. "Whoa there, kemosabe! Wait, wrong genre. Anyway, like, slow down or something. Maybe we can talk about this. You've already made friends with wolves. I'm way more friendly than wolves!"

-

Initially unaware of The Bane, Cain is VERY aware that armoured dudes riding frickin' wolves are probably bad juju. Impressed and dismayed in equal parts to see that the riders aren't using any tack or harness, which is kind of badass but also frustrating. "Well, bugger." He mutters, his voice a curious mix of Eire and New York.

Still, these guys seem to be pretty serious customers, so he does what he can to trip them up - specifically he amps his speed to max, and runs in and around the wolves, crackling purple energy very much light lightning trailing behind him in a pyrotechnic display. As he does this he tries to upend as many of the riders as he can by pushing up on their legs or thumping them on the side at as awkward moment.

The webslinger's efforts to trip the wolves up also end up causing /Cain/ to have to worry about them, and mid attack he ends up snared for a few precious moments, and this allows him to /see/ Ambrose's Bane as the evil tendrils loop towards the riders.

This triggers a very visceral response — though it will have to wait, he's a bit snared at the moment, but his eyes are wide as he regards the Pale Jackal and his curse in full bloom.

Winged girl? Cat girl? Man, he can't tell who's for real, and who's part of these trip down bizarro lane!


Shayera accepts Ambrose's words at face value, but likely only because of the hordes of — what the hell? — approaching at a VERY fast pace. She shifts her stance to now be ready to protect Isis from these attackers, but these damned skirts. "Isis, this is going to get messy. Get yourself somewhere safe." She doesn't really watch to make sure the young feline-woman heeds her words, she's got enough to deal with mentally calculating how to best deal with these charging enemies.

Past years of battle tactics come to mind, but annoyingly most were derived and designed for use against airborne combatants, not grounders. With a huff of annoyance at the situation, she scoops up a handful of ground-sweeping skirts in one hand, hefts her gold-looking mace in the other, and screams a wordless battlecry in the face of the closest enemy as she charges into them.

She'd be thankful her outfit didn't include stays or a tightly laced bodice if she knew what those things were.

-

The descending horde breaks into two, separating the groups from each. Isis is separated with the other group, leaving Shayera, Peter, Ambrose, Cain and Alex on their own. Hopefully, the slight feline-like mutant is safe.

Ambrose's Bane meets one of the wolves… and it becomes a struggle for the man, demon, whatever. The wolf is trying to drain the Bane as the Bane tries to drain it. It's an interesting thing too - the other forms? There's no lifeforce to speak of.

Spideys webs tangle the rider of Ambroses wolf, tugging him from the back of it. Almost. Spidey finds this … person … is strong and he finds himself tugged forward, to the edge of the roof towards the ground. A halberd slashes trying to cut the threads - the webslinger has a battle going on here.

Cain had better get over confusion real soon - There's a rank of halberd wielding soldiers descending on him, as the others take on the wolves. They stab and slash, intent on killing anything in their path.

It's probably a good thing that Shayera arrives them, knocking the soldier nearest Cain back and causing another to crumble. Unfortunately that makes the pair of them a target and it becomes a bit of pile on. Catching Alex in the middle of it.


There's a resonant /CLANG/ as one of the soldiers swings its halberd around trying to strike at the others near Alexander, only for that swing to be checked with the side of a glowing greenish sword. The haft is struck and the young Olympian /pushes/ off and away to try and force that soldier onto its back foot, before he follows up with a slash to at least try and disarm the weapon his opponent wields, trying to take the head off the halberd and send it flying away.
Even if not successful, it at least buys him some time to turn and ask Cain and Shayera, "Hey, are you guys really real? Or part of this Westworld thing?" His bright blue eyes flit from one to the other rapidly.


Oh, geez, it's become an unexpected tug-of-war!

Ambrose grits his teeth until his cheekbones stand high. Letting out a slow, burring sigh, he in turn releases more of his knee-jerk hold upon the curse itself. It dilutes heavily into the wolf's own aura and still attempts to sublimate it. He's effectively gone blind but for the sphere of the Bane's protection of its host around him.

"Why…won't…you…die?!" Spittle leaves his crooked lips.


"Hey, hey, hey, let's not put death on the line, we aren't wagering with a Sicilian here!" Spiday cries, managing a quippy remark even as the rider with whom he's entangled yanks him off the rooftop. He somersaults and tucks into a nice little flip, even managing a heroic landing as the web between him and the slashing figures grows a bit slack.

"I'm all for being super man of action, but I'm really bummed that we don't have a chance to further investigate the underpinnings of HEY THAT'S SHARP BAD ANACHRONISM!" Spidey yells, ducking a halberd swing and planting his hands to try and drive his feet up under the rider's chin.


Battering the nearest soldier back with her wings, she wrests a shield from the one she already sent to the ground and uses it to block an incoming halberd away from Cain.

"What the hell is Westworld?" she asks the katana-wielder in annoyed confusion, "If it won't help us fight these guys, it can /wait/." She swings her mace with brutal force at the next closest soldier, promptly following it with the leading edge of her wing, aiming to hit the attacker's face with the strong bones hidden under white feathers there.

-

Oh, don't worry, Cain's only horrified for a few moments, with the halberders approaching he phase shifts, vibrating out of the webbing and appearing next to Phobos with a trail of purple lightning behind him for a second. "Real enough." He agrees. "Technically though, I think this would be more aptly named Medieval World, or maybe in this case MAD-EVIL world?" He is VERY careful not to turn his back on Ambrose however, yeah, that guy's SCARY.

The winged lass, though, she's interesting. Hits hard too.

"Right…so…you have a very cool lightsaber-esque sword and know how to wield it." He comments to Phobos. "Are YOU real?"

A smile then. "Excuse me a moment." Cain will zip through the halberder's ranks - he doesn't try to hurt a single one of them, instead he tries to snatch (and if need be phase) their weapons from their hands, leaving any he gets in a pile some few hundred yards away.


A halbersman grunts as Alex parries the thrust. The halberd sent flying to land at Cains feet. "MojoWorld not WestWorld." comes the answer as the armoured man throws a punch to Alex's face.

Ambrose will notice the wolf starting to change, taking on the mans form. The mans form or the Banes? Or something that is representation of both. Either way, he's going to find himself fighting a facsimile of himself in a moment - a weakened one but …

Peters actions knock the rider back, sending him sprawling. It looks like he might be out. Not that it matters as the rank of soldiers bears down on him.

Shayera is in the full of things, knocking soldiers left and right. They are strong though and fall on her a vengence. Only to find themselves without weapons as Cain manages to relieve them of them. Cain doesn't get away scot free, he takes a couple of hits as he grabs but soon, there's a pile of halberds to the side. It helps … a bit.

There's a warning from Isis, tht manages to carry over the din "Mental shields up!" It's not likely anyone present will understand it but she tries. A wave of emotion rolls out from her, causing the ranks of soldiers to falter - some recovering quickly, others standing in fear, and a few actually turning to run.

"This way. Towards the drawbridge.." Isis calls to the group "… I've found a door." She thinks.

-

"A sorta theme park thing," Is Alexander's response to Shayera even as he seems to naturally settle into a defensive posture covering her flank as the other soldiers menace.
That soldier he disarmed swings wickedly with that punch only for the youth to slip to the side and make a wrist-twisting grab that ideally will send the mojo-warrior to the ground where the follow up might well look rather painful as it usually ends with a short sharp twist that would break the arm in two places. But once the soldier is on the ground he shifts to support the Hawkperson.
The glowing blade in his hand moves quickly, flickering in motion in and out to strike at the halberd-wielders should they press for an advantage, but each time repulsed for now at least.
Over his shoulder Alex elaborates, "Robots and stuff. First season was okay, second was meh." Then Cain pipes up and Alex motions in his direction. "See, he knows it."
Then there's a wash of some sensation across Alexander's mind and for a moment his gaze flits to Lady Isis. For a moment his grin shifts wry, but he says naught. He does, however, start to move in that direction.


Peter Parker capers across the tops of a few wolf heads as he darts over to join the group, "I only caught clips on Youtube!" he calls out. "It looked like it had potential but I wasn't willing to put in the time investment to keep current and figured I"d just bingewatch later once it was all done! I regret nothing!"

He lands blithely near Isis, hands on his hips. "Spider-Man here. So, there's a door? Should we go through it? Oh oh oh, do we check for traps? How do we do that?"


With every pinpoint of light gone haloed in his vision, Ambrose continues to struggle against the gravity-weft of this harrowing counter-magic. His knuckles show white as he closes his fist in sheer obstinate refusal before himself. Shadows darken around his eyes even as he watches the creature begin to change shape.

No. That will not do.

A quickdraw's drop of other hand to his hip and CRACK — he shoots at dead between the shifting creature's eyes.

Still, Isis's warning wends through the claxon of his heart in his ears and, assuming he's felled the creature, the Jackal turns. As he goes, he yanks the Bane in his wake with the force of separating hooks from a target. There was little succor to be found in the end and it's left him prickly. Still, a live thief can steal again…and he'll feed the Bane one way or another. He's a dark shadow who draws near to Isis; anyone within ten feet of him might feel some pin-and-needles tingling as the Bane remains defensive of its host.


Shayera doesn't really catch the 'mental' part of Isis' warning about shields, and raises her pilfered physical shield to bash a soldier clear after his halberd is suddenly gone. She folds her wings out of the way once the young swordsman starts defending her back, using both shield and mace to clear a path for herself and whomever else. Because the one thing she DID hear clearly from Isis was 'towards the drawbridge'.

"Go, go!" she yells at Alexander and Cain, fending off the remaining soldiers until they're clear then taking to the air to follow them. Because from what she saw, NONE of these enemies have projectile weapons on them. And if Alex starts to fall behind (she's guessing Cain won't considering he's likely the source of the purple streaks and disappearing halberds), she has no qualms about swooping down and hooking one arm around his waist to fly them both to Isis just that little bit faster.


"I liked it, though yeah, season one was much better." And then off he goes stripping the dudes of weapons, and when he returns he's limping more than a bit, and bears several bloody gashes — though — they aren't actually /bleeding/ anymore, not really. The man is quite obviously in a great deal of pain, but his wounds seem to be fairly stable all things considered.

He is not prepared for any sort of mental foo, sorry Isis.

With his healing factor active, he might be an even greater temptation to The Bane inside Ambrose, his lifeforce concentrating as magic infuses his wounds, and tries to repair the damage.

Still, he looks to Peter. "Nice webbing." He offers with a faint smile, before he vanishes to most people's sight, a purple set of lightning streaks behind him as he moves to Isis' side. "Door?" Cain asks.


The problem with getting to the door that Isis indicates is getting through the halberds that stand between them and the drawbridge. Even frightened, they are still formidable group but they are dealing with Spidey, Alex and Shayera. Spidey and Cain land next to Isis, Spideys comment drawing a feline look from the woman. "Got to get to it…" She points at the others who are now fighting the remains of the hordes.

Not to mention Nick who has … Nick … on his back. There's lots of growling and claws in that fight.

Peter and Cain can see a group of six launch at the others just as they make the door - which isn't open yet. They may have to stop them.

Alex and Shayera have to fight their through to the door, with Ambrose in their wake. More of the horde behind them, turn as Isis releases a wave of fear at them. It's a shame she can't aim that.

Ambrose simply shoots his opponent. That's effect, the wolf / Ambrose looks surprised as the wolf explodes from the mouth of the shapeshifted created … it's weird and revolting and altogether off putting. Still, the gentleman thief finds himself caught in the melee.


The move in the direction of Isis is at first a steady thing, though Alexander lingers a touch longer than is perhaps best. For a time his smile is there, wild with amusement as he enjoys in the fight, indulges even in the rare times he can have a good give and take back and forth with opponents whose motives are rather openly and clearly malicious.
He moves backwards, keeping a path somewhat clear to try and keep the soldiers off and make any that press too hard pay a price… but steadily the others get a touch further and further away…
Until abruptly there is a winged harridan swooping in to snare the godling about the waist. There's a rush of movement and a blur of flapping wings as for a moment the world recoils and twists, then suddenly there's wood beneath his feet as he drops, lands, rolls, skidding to a halt with his sword coming down to stab into the ground to snare his inertia and keep him from rolling further.
"Hey!" The Olympian gets to his feet, blade snapping into place as he eyes Hawkwoman and says as he readies to defend against the coming onslaught. He tells her simply, "I ain't luggage."


Ambrose does have a moment of bizarre crystalline stillness. It's the Bane calling at him, turning his attention towards Cain as he becomes a veritable siren of interest to the ancient curse's slavering need for life-force. Turning to stare openly at Cain, in the process, the master-thief also notes important things, such as:

There's somebody who has some form of spider-webbing as their weaponry.

That young man has a sword and he appears to know how to use it.

And that lady there has really large bird wings.

Man, life is so weird.

The moment fractures with the rude insertion of multiple attackers and, with one revolver drawn, it makes sense to frankly draw the other and begin aiming at heads. Keeping his back towards the group as a whole, Ambrose retreats step by deliberate step, only after seeing enemies fall to his gunfire. His face is a cold, inhuman mask even if his pupils now openly blaze carmine-red. At one point, he can tell his ammo stores are getting low and with a quick switching of weaponry, the guns go away in lieu of two long-daggers. Now, with the Bane lacing his body's aura, he goes physically into the scrum with a roar of rage. Any life-force the Bane can latch onto, it does, and aids in felling whomever dares to come within reach of him. He tries hard to clear space for the others to work their will upon the doors.


Peter Parker uses webs again, spraying from each wrist to create a wide net to try and entangle the six that are still coming, trying to buy time for Isis and the others to get them wherever they're going. He's not sure where they're going or what's on the other side of the door, but it feels like a better idea than staying here. Unless they're being deliberately herded through the door into some much more dire fate.

"I'm beginning to think I shouldn't try to have fun."


"Then don't fall behind," Shayera promptly quips back at Alex after depositing him none too gently next to Isis and landing again only to step on and trip over her skirts. "DAMN this stupid dress. Does anyone have a knife, or something?" She's about ready to just rip the garment off at the waistband and go without, and with the attackers bearing down on them again she doesn't really have the luxury of time to do so. So be it.

Kicking her skirts out of the way ahead of herself, she wades forward into the fray again but well clear of Ambrose and his guns then daggers and plies her mace with more of her brutal efficiency.

She bashes heads and limbs with equally excessive force and is clearly not concerned about the death toll that she is likely piling up here. They asked for it by attacking first.


The group at the door can see Shayera's wings and the others as they cut down the horde between them. Bodies go flying, to land in a heap all over the coutyard. Six guys who try for Lydia and Alison, are webbed from behind and go down in a tangle.

Soon there's only a few left, holding their halberds tentatively, backing away.

As the groups meet up and Isis opens the door, a voice sounds above them. "Don't forget to toss a coin to your Witcher and stay tuned for more excitement. Our heroes have escaped this encounter but will they encounter more. This entertainment is bought to you by Mojo!"

The door opens back to the bright daylight down by Red Hook. The scene on the street far more peaceful and normal than what they're leaving behind.

And yes, as they step through - their clothing reverts. Probably leaving a group of very confused people on the street.


"See," Alexander says as he leaps forward, sword lashing out sharply and cleanly. Though curiously enough his strikes aren't perhaps as severe as the efforts of his compatriots. Oh there are certainly no shortage of severe injuries, crippling moments, and without proper health insurance these Mojo-Warriors may well be regretting coming in to work today. But for anyone with an eye he does forego clear killing strokes that would be easily taken.
"I have a dagger. And was about to offer it to you." Alexander grants in rejoinder to Hawkgirl, though he keeps the warriors in check near him. "But now. Nope. Just cuz you're rude. How's that feel?"
Then the door opens and suddenly the world takes on a less severe cast, daylight streaming forth, a suddenly peaceful street. And then Alexander straightens up, eyebrows raised with curiousity. Street clothes in place, NYU t-shirt and backpack. Yankees baseball cap. But weirdly enough the sword in his hand is still there, and still glowing.
"Oh hnh." He says, succinctly.

-

When the door opens and the world reverts - Cain is much relieved, and still cut up pretty good. "Well…um…it was nice meeting you all." He doesn't even look at Ambrose, that guy scares the crap out of the speedster. He rubs the back of his neck in obvious embarrassment, and shrugs. "So…um, anyway, thank you for your help. Maybe we'll all meet again sometime." And then with a cheerful wave he vanishes as he runs off at top speed, only purple lightning trails left behind him.


Peter Parker quickly pulls his hooded sweatshirt up to cover his face now that they're back in the normal world. His voice is a little bit muffled, then, his webshooters pushed up under his sleeves.

"Really have to stop showing up to stuff by myself. 'What did you do today?' 'I battled wolf knights in the park with strangers including a lady with wings and a cat girl.' 'Have you been drug-tested recently, son?'" he says, making the dialogue up in his head as he ducks and retreats a bit. If there's a Witchervengers team forming, he's not sure how well he'd fit in. He doesn't even have a shield.


Shayera makes sure everyone else gets through the door first then turns after one last swipe with her mace to run out after them and trips over her damned skirt again.

Only to end up stumbling out through the door, back to her far more accustomed jeans, long sleeve (but still somehow backless) shirt, and tall boots. Like Alex, she's still got her mace and arm guards. Oh, and the wings. Those are still VERY much her own and very, very real, down to them stretching out then resettling back against her back with a rustle.

"What. The HELL. Just happened?"


It feels terribly, terribly good to let loose. The modern world is so tightly-bound, contrived in its way with technology ready to tattle on anyone who sets one toe across the line — it's a call-back to the lawlessness of his earlier years and the darkness of the second World War in northern Africa. A blur of silvery blades, Ambrose is still very aware of his own mortality; a poorly-ducked movement on his own part leaves him with a scalp wound shallow but set to bleed madly.

And so, in the mantra of 'those who fight and run away live to fight another day' (much beloved by the master-thief), Ambrose retreats to the door once he has time and room to do so. After he steps through it, he's quick to also make ample distance between himself and the others. Quickly, the now switch-blades go away. He winces as he touches at the scalp wound. "Ruddy fuck," he hisses before he quickly borrows some of the Bane's spare storage of energy.

Zip — the wound closes and leaves him with only the blood to wipe away on the sleeve of his dark jacket. The others get a good somewhat leery eyeing. Well, most everyone does: the young man who attracted the Bane's attention is gone in the literal blink of an eye.

"Magic, milady," offers Ambrose to Shayera flatly. "If not magic, then technology beyond my knowledge…and f — " He corrects himself because he is a gentleman.

"I do not like it either."


Once Isis has spoken to the other group and made sure Nick is alright she looks at the others. "I don't know what that was, but it's like we were used for entertainment. I'm taking Nick home if you need anything, find us here… " she hands them a card, except for Shayera who knows where they are. Paragon Investigations. "And thank you for your help."

She'll be going.


"Hey." Alexander lifts the sword and points the tip of it at Spider-Man, or the fellow who was fighting rather like Spider-Man. And with web-shooters and all. The college student's smile slips to a wry warm thing as he says, "You're really like, Spidey?" He asks.
Though he doesn't wait for an answer, he just goes on by saying, "I've seen you before. You're super cool." As if the wall-crawler needs a positive affirmation from a young God of Fear.
Then to Shayera he motions, "And you still have wings. That's pretty cool too."
Ambrose, gets an eyeballing as well. "And very nifty magic stuff." Not scary, for some reason that didn't really 'scare' Alexander.
Only for the youth to turn in the direction of Cain… wait Cain's already gone. "And you… oh hey." A beat, "That guy was quick."
But then he takes his turn looking at Isis' card as it's passed around, his eyes follow after her as she starts to make her departure.

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