Summary:An disturbance at the Met gets magical Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
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It's getting late in the day at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The groups of school children that are dragged through the place in the name of 'education' are starting to wane and there's only a handful of people really scattered around.
And of course it's quiet - as these places tend to be.
Except for the rumbling on the first floor where an exhibit of Mesopotamian and Sumerian Art is being displayed. Art, artifacts - take your pick - they're ancient and on loan from the various governments.
The rumbling grows louder, the floor starts to shake as a ancient Rams Head figure begins to glow. For those with the senses - there's magic afoot.
And as the rumbling gains in strength, a gentleman in a long trenchcoat and supple leather gloves is slowly backing away. His eyes are wide, his mouth is parted in shock, and he mumbles to himself something in Farsi which can be roughly translated to:
"Oh shit."
Ambrose continues rolling each step soundlessly on the floor and quickly glances around for another display to hide behind. Ah-hah! Mock pillars! A quick dart and the darkly-clad figure then shoves his back firmly against it. If he's very, very quiet…maybe no one will notice him.
Maybe?
Maybe.
It will possibly not help Ambrose general sense of panic that a tear in the very fabric of reality opens behind him after he has hidden and a horse sized wolf trots out of it, eyes glowing a sullen red like hot coals. He did not intend to wind up behind Ambrose. That is merely where the Way opened up.
"What is this?" It might sound like Fenris is asking that of the gentleman in the trench coat but he isn't. He's actually talking to himself and looking around at the power that's swirling and gathering not too far away. Who is doing this on his hunting grounds?
Hod has no idea why he's here. Literally, there is likely no other place on earth of less value to Hod then the MET and it's many many cousins in the universe. Wait. Library. It's the SECOND most useless place in all the nine Realms to him. Like a bald man in a barber's shop he is decidedly not in his element. So, keeping in theme with his life, when he finds his feet carrying him to the MET, he can't help but mutter a vicious and very impressive curse about the Norn's mothers running a train on an entire herd of sypallitic goats. That don't bathe.
He turns on his heel and begins heading towards the door. His pace only increases when he feels someone open one of the Paths and he catches a wiff of puppers. Newp. Newpnewpnewp. This ain't a feast, no one's offering sancuary, and Hod DOESNT EVEN MAKE SENSE HERE!?! "Fuck the Norns." it's not impressive as his last curse, but it's somehow just a smidgen more sincere. Magic is here, it's going nuts, there's a god on hand. Hod is not needed. Nope. He walks faster.
Pepper had a rare couple of hours off following a major board meeting, and after that kind of stressful meeting, she usually chooses somewhere peaceful to decompress. And museums are near the top of her list of favorite places to decompress.
Having arrived with Ambrose (and wearing flats for a rare change), she's looking at some artifact or other when the rumbling starts. Being as numb to magic as she usually is, the noise doesn't instantly register, and it's Arananet squirming on her wrist that finally gets her attention. "What?" She looks around and … Ambrose is GONE so far as she can tell. She even turns a full circle trying to spot him to no avail. What she DOES see is one last school field trip loitering by the exits in confusion. Hurrying across the open space of the room and likely right through Fenris' line of sight, she heads toward the students and their struggling chaperones to try and help herd them out the door quickly (and calmly).
Her spider tattoo's squirming just feels wrong, and she's already learned that the tarantula only squirms when there's something bothering her about Pepper's mood or Pepper's surroundings.
Just as Fenris' Way closes another portal opens and out spews a dozen small goat … demons. They caper and canter all over the place.
One skids up to a stop in front of Pepper, the short horns on its head getting caught in her shirt. It's strong, Pepper can tell that and in just a moment, it throws its head trying to free itself. She'll be knocked back at the very least.
Another two round the pillars where the dark clad Ambrose just went to hide. No one else seems to have noticed him, but these two Pans have and they intend to have some fun with the man … or so they so think.
Two manage to run right into Hod, butting the departing Asgardian in the backside.
Three more skid to a stop in front of the god wolf and bleat at him, before deciding to try their luck.
As this pandemonium is erupting, a very large man dressed as a priest and wearing a horned cap on his head stumbles through, followed by two blasts of magic that land at his feet.. "I will find it, Zatanna … it must be here somewhere…"
That's to the raven haired woman in fishnets, body suit and swallow-tail coat. "Seriously, do you think anyone would believe you're Nabu? You can't even get the location right. You've come to New York."
The Jackal's heart rushes up into his throat and ears. Fenris nearby certainly isn't helping his case; the master-thief is already reaching for his revolvers out of reaction when the two Pans appear to cause him further trouble.
CRACK-CRACK!
Shots fired!
He aims for the two goat-like creatures and then, frankly, makes a run for it. After all, the one who fights and runs away lives to fight another day! He's heading for the hall outside of the collected display, scarf bannering behind him.
Fenris literally bites one of them in half and glares at the other two. Go on. Try him. When one of them does in fact try him he gets his mouth around the horns and just tosses it down toward the Greek displays. It will stay there and absorb some culture if it knows what is good for it.
"What in the name of Odin's halitosis is going on in here?!" When the wolf god speaks, everything rumbles and the displays rattle. It IS a good way at getting people's attention.
"HODR!" Fenris has to raise his voice to be heard above the gunfire and demons. And it makes things shake even more. "I CAN SMELL YOU WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING?!"
The doors are closing after the last of the field trip chaperones when the clatter of cloven hooves has Pepper turning to try and see what's going on NOW, and she ends up with her clothing tangled in the horns of a… goat? "What the..?" She yelps as the goat tries to shake its head free and knocks her off her feet.
In a small burst of smoke, Arananet suddenly appears clinging to Pepper's torso before clacking her fangs in an almost threatening manner at the goat violating her current host human's personal space and DASHING away at full tarantula-sprint speed. She's running straight toward the pillar Ambrose was previously hiding behind, because up is always safer.
Hod stumbles forward a half dozen steps, his shoulder thwacking into a display stand with a plague on it, some sort of well mounted abstract sculpture work. The display doesn't move an inch, and Hod spins away from it under inertia alone. He comes to a stop after a moment and his fingers tighten around the cane in them, his knuckles whitening beneath the scars, "Petulant little shits." he snarls softly, and the cane in his grip moves of it's own acord, squirming as if in anticipation. He rights himself fully and turns so that they're 'in front' of him now and tilts his head, letting the blocks on his sense fall for a moment so he can ful-and then his hands clamp over his ears as Fenris deafens him.
"Oh for fucks sake! Where do you think I'm going you over grown labradoodle!? Somewhere /else/." this is not shouted because Hod is not stupid, it's said very very quietly. Under his breath. In Akadian. "Bor's swinging cod!" that's louder, "I can't hear shit now!" He's no longer used to battle with his kind, he's… out of practice.
"I am Nabu, I'm telling you woman." The goat capped fellow says as he stumbles. "What do you mean, New York? We're supposed to be in Mesopotamia … You ruined my casting." With a swirl of his finger, a shot of pure magic speeds towards to the Magician, who speaks in very strange language - as a glowing blue shield appears in front of her, deflecting the bolt in a shower of light.
As Fenris bites down and Ambrose shoots, the goat capped man screams. "No. Not my children … " A blast of etheral energy heads towards to Fenris, just before 'Nabu' realises that's a BIG WOLF with glowing red eyes, and one in the direction where Ambrose is hiding … and Aranent is now scurrying towards.
Pepper finds the Pan is quite enamoured with her. The thing capers and dances about her, and … winks. "How about it, honey?"
Zatanna, seeing Hod clamp his hands over his ears moves quickly to put herself between him and the goat-boys. "Don't worry, Sir, they won't hurt you." With another arcane phrase in a language most can't understand, the Mistress of Magic, freezes the creatures where they stand.
Well. Most of them. One had slipped off to side and is now cantering full pelt at Hod. There's no way she's going to get another spell off that quickly.
It's decidedly canine, the yelp that leaves Ambrose at the sight of the etheral energy aimed dead at him. He ducks behind one of the displays and the bolt EXPLODES to send archival glass and treated wood flying everywhere. He flinches as it spatters off of him on the way out into the hallway.
Arananet's skittering is missed by him entirely in his need to be away from the caster and this madness! "Miss Potts! MISS POTTS, WE NEEDS MUST VACATE THE — "
But there she with one of the creatures attempting to charm her?! Ambrose freezes in place now with the madness of Fenris's fighting and Zatanna's combat behind him, staring, both guns drawn but not aimed.
Fenris takes the blast on the face. It makes him flinch a little bit and then he glares at the creature calling itself 'Nabu'. "Your children are delicious. I'll take a dozen." His lips curl back as he gets bigger still, likely not helping Ambrose staring nor the feeling of creeping dread crawling down Pepper's spine. The one not caused by the Pan that is.
Those fangs are the size of large knives.
"Hodr look out for-" Oops. Too late. Attention goes back to the annoying guy and the young mage he's fighting.
"Go. Away. Before I decide to try the aged steak." That's 'Nabu'.
Pepper is trying to get to her feet when she realizes the satyr is capering around her suggestively. She scoffs and tries to dust herself off while telling the goat-man off. "Just go away."
With that feeling of dread growing (and Pepper having not really placed why yet), she turns to look for Arananet just in time to see the fleeing spider and the magical bolt aimed at her. "No! Arananet!" There is NO way she can catch up with the spider to protect her, but she rushes past the amorous Pan to try.
She honestly doesn't know what'll happen if the spider is injured or 'killed', but she got the impression from Keiko that it would NOT be a good thing for either of them.
Hod is not happy. First of all, there are Pans, and he fucking hates Pans. He's blind, not that attractive, and stipped of most of his power. Pans, back in the day, found him great sport, when he was still full of devine pride and hadn't yet been informed of his new lower station. Great. Sport. He turns, plants his feet, and tilts his head anew, the cane in his hand srt to the side of his body a bit like a bo staff might be. And he waits.
The Pan in question hurtles his way, horns lowered, and the lights in the MET begin to flicker. Perhaps it's cause by the magic being flung about wille-nillie? But it last only a moment, just a couple of seconds of brown out before they return to their full illumination. Hod is walking towards the door once more, shaking his head, "I assume you got this?" he says conversationally to the air, assuming the Wolf's keen hearing will pick up the question as Hod himself seems intent on extricating himself from the scene entire. Eventually, maybe the next day when the cleaning crew comes in, or the cops to catalogue this nonsense, or maybe just never, someone will notice the little Pan's corpse. The confused and shocked expression of the creature clear on it's face, which is odd only because it's head has been twisted around to fully that it appears as though the entire head is on backwards.
"Come on Baby, I'll show you a good time. I *like* redheads …" The little Satyr just leers at Pepper and tries run his hand up her leg. Silly thing doesn't realise how much trouble he's in.
Zatanna winces as display cases crash and splinter. "Watch out." She calls to Ambrose, unsure why he's just standing there. But another Satyr charges at him … or maybe the spider …. from behind. Ambrose will hear the clippity clop.
And then the sizzling, as the bolt of magic hits Arananet and turns her to smoke. At the same time, Pepper feels a sharp shooting pain through her stomach, like someone has just splashed her bare skin with hot oil. Araranet reforms on her wrist and doesn't move … is she alive?
"You won't eat my children …" 'Nabu' is now screaming like a madman, a field of magic forming around him as he throws himself at the wolf.
"Get the cap off him …" Zatanna calls, moving the group of Pan that she's frozen, and looking around for Hod. "Sir, really, you should …" she frowns at the corpse and then peers at Hod. "… be careful. Just get down, we'll have this under control in just a moment."
Hod shouldn't think he's getting out of this that easily. As he tries to slink away, another Satyr canters in from the side. Where the hell are they all coming from? Horns down, the thing doesn't seem to be scared at all. If anything, that little display of Hods seems to make him keener.
It's likely the sheer absurdity of the situation at hand before him, with Pepper brushing off the Satyr like he was just another reeling frat-boy out for the next score — or maybe it's the momentary freeze of alarm and checking over of himself for any wounds caused by glancing museum material. One gun goes away to free up a hand for a brisk pat-down. All limbs, check — internal organs, all present.
Either way, that Faun charging him from behind is in for a surprise: crouching down, the Jackal executes a launched backflip from the floor and arcs up when the Satyr tries bulling into him. His palm bared of glove lands on the Satyr's fuzzy skull between his horns and the acursed thief drags the creature down to the floor with enough force that its cloven hooves are yanked clear before it thuds back-down. The Bane strikes hard and true with its bite and, frankly, the Satyr is doomed. It has time for a bleating shriek before it twitches and falls completely still.
Ambrose slowly rises and turns back towards the fray involving the giant Dread Wolf and the magician with eyes lidded and aglow with the curse's carmine hues. Who's next? He's hungry.
Pepper is already reaching into her bag to get out her taser, and when that satyr dares to try and touch her, she zaps him. She doesn't wait to see the results, though, as she turns to again try to get to Arananet.
Too late. In the same instant that the tarantula is zapped into smoke, Pepper reacts as if she were the one hit by the magical bolt. She cries out in pain and crumples back to the floor, clutching her arms tight around her waist and curling up on herself tightly.
It's so bad she doesn't notice or realize the spider tattoo is back on her wrist.
Fenris watches as the creature rushes toward him screaming. And watches. And watches. And then flattens him with a stomp that makes him bounce ever so slightly before batting him into a stature near the door, which falls over, blocking the exit. Ooops.
Well no. Not oops. That shot was aimed. "Yeah. I've got it Hod."
Skip out on HIM will you…
The Great Wolf now takes time to look around and see who is present. "Well well. Hello Ambrose. And hello to you too Miss Pepper Potts. I say you're not looking well. And…"
The woman in the vegas outfit gets a frown. "I don't know you."
There's a short pause. "Oh. The wet blanket over yonder is Hodr. God of holding doors."
Hod stops his march towards the exit when the statue falls over in front of him, blocking it. "Welp." he says flatly. "That was petty and small." he says as he turns on a heel again and brings the cane around in a motion not unlike that of a golf swing. The silvery orb atop it's length impacts the Pan in mid sprint flipping it into an impromptu gainer and causeing it's head to just… implode. There's a sound not unlike 5 lbs of celery in a bag being crushed by a sledgehammer. A wet. Crunchy. Moist noise. And there's splatter. Arching up and away from Hod in a beautiful arch that splits and splats on everything in a straight line originating from the now tumbling dead body that lands with a wet thump, and then the slorpy noise of brain matter leaving a skull no longer fully intact.
Some poor bastard is gonna have to clean that shit up. "You sir," he point the gorey end of Light Drinker more or less in Fenris' direction, "are the great big dingle berry hanging off of the furry ass of the fucking Realm." he then allows that Fenris is not the /worst/ by adding, "But just this one Realm. Not like all of them." to clarify. "WHY THE FUCK AM I HERE?" he asks, spinning in a circle, "That inbread goat fucker wasn't worth noting, so why am I /here/?" he doesn't actually expect an answer.
Pepper suitor screams loudly. Goats can scream and the Satyr can scream even more so. It's fur starts to smoke as its shocked. Yeah, it's not going to be fresh anytime soon.
Ambroses little Satyr lets out a pitiful shriek before it falls to the ground. The remaining Pans skitter and scurry, looking for a way out - only to be gathered up by the Raven Haired Vegas Girl - minus the feathers. "I'll get you home in a moment, just settle." She sighs.
'Nabu' bounces into the statue, the hat falling from his head. Instantly, he's transformed into a scrawny youth of eighteen, who lays on the floor and groans. "I told you, you weren't Nabu." the woman says.
The goathorned cap remains on the floor for the moment - Zee has other worries. "Uh. Don't touch that. It's cursed."
She turns to see Pepper fall and the Ambrose-Bane glaring balefully in her direction. "Are you alright, Sir? Or do we need to deal with you too?" beat "I'm Zatanna Zatara" That's to Fenris and the others. "And would you all believe this is a promo for my show that starts next week, in New York?"
She looks hopefully around the group, as she bends to tend to Pepper. "No? Just lay still, Miss Potts and let me look … " Peppers shirt is opened a little to reveal a large blistering burn - right where Arananet had been struck. "May I heal it?"
She's … very confident, isn't she?
"Hodor? I assume you're here because someone needs a piggy back. I know you are Ambrose. And you …" she looks at the big dread Wolf "… aren't Akala."
It's mostly Fenris who manages to rattle the Jackal out of his Bane-tempted state. The huge wolf speaking resonates in his chest and, with a sharp shake of his head, the master-thief blinks as if he were coming back to himself. He glances down at the dead Satyr beside him and then stares at Hod's utter debacle of destruction and then looks at Zatanna, whom he doesn't know yet.
"There is no need to deal with me at all, milady..Zatara. I am…" He winces in Pepper's direction to see her in trouble, but he's not equipped to deal kindly with her struggles. "…fine."
He's at least gentleman enough to look away when Zatanna reveals the burn and grimaces at his own dead Faun. Toeing at it with a boot, he then gives Hod an eyebrow.
"Are you aware of the number of Game of Throne references being hurled at you, sirrah? And to think, I thought you just a barkeep." Yep, Hod: it's that guy with that crisp British accent.
"No…" The large wolf says as he shifts with what must be a remarkable amount of practice so that he can face people. Hod gets a slight look when he asks why he's here. He looks down at the dark haired mage and then up at Hod and then back down at the mage.
"Because clearly the Norns think that there's someone you need to add to your collection." That's a joke yes?
"You two were both taking in the scenery and culture?" Or was Ambrose here for, cough, other reasons.
"I'm afraid, Miss, that no. This doesn't seem much like a promo to me."
Pepper doesn't argue the dark-haired woman's approach, and she has at least enough presence of mind to nod her approval of an attempt to heal. She's expecting maybe some burn cream, a bandage, and HOPEFULLY some Vicodin.
And then her brain catches up a bit belatedly. "Wait," she says seemingly calmly enough, though she can't get the note of pain out of her voice. "How do you know who I am?" She's not at all concerned about Fenris' presence anymore (if she ever was), and she hasn't actually seen Hod or what he's done in the fight to really have a reaction to or about him. Yet, anyway.
Hod snorts, "I /am/ just a barkeep." he says simply and the lighting in the room, which could use an overhaul after the uh, shinannigans, seems set in /just/ such a way that his face is hidden away in a heavy shadow cast by a stone archway nearby. "And what the fuck is Game of Thrones?" one may make note that the blind man does not in fact own a TV. Nor 'read' a great deal of fiction. His life is weird enough. "And the Norns," that gorey ended stick is shook Fenris' direction again, "can go collectively suck every dick, that isn't mine, from the back. In alphabetical order." he flicks his wrist hard to the side, and the gore and blood fly from the cane's end, making a little line of dots and globbuals along the floor. The cane, for it's part, is clean now. He sets it's tip against the floor and leans on it lazily. And finishes up with, "I am not a fucking Uber. If someone needs a ride, they can ride the puppers."
"Akela over there said your name." Zee answers with a smile. It's genuine but she's also got a presence. Putting her hand just above the burn, the dark haired Mage speaks - now they can hear her, the words are backwards - glowing blue energy forms arcane symbols that sink into Peppers skin. "Just like he said that was Ambrose." The now recovered man gets a nod from the magician "And that wet blanket was Hodr."
Add someone to his collection? Zee snorts softly. Sure.
The burn slowly heals and along with it the pain eases. "There. That should be a little better. You need to take it easy for the rest of the day, though."
"Ah well, it was worth a try, wasn't?" That's to Fenris. "My show does open next week, however. I would be honoured if you'll be my special guests." A flick of her hand, a slight murmur and five tickets for two appear in her hand. Those get handed out.
"Game of Thrones is an amazing show and book series. You should try the audio book version of them." Zee adds helpfully.
"I need to spend a little time, cleaning up here and put that cap into storage. If you need a lift somewhere, I'd be happy to assist." So bright and bubbly. That's Zatanna.
Ambrose opens his mouth to answer Hod as to 'Game of Thrones', but the dark-haired magician answers for him instead. He instead sighs and takes a moment to check over each revolver; they're an extension of his body, after all. They haven't been overly jostled or seemingly injured, so he slips them away before he walks over to stop a safe distance from Pepper. Unfortunately, her display of temporarily injured state is more than enough to have the Bane tingling just beneath his skin.
"And I assume your show is…magical?" asks the Jackal of Zatanna as he glances up from sliding on his kid-skin leather gloves again. Things have settled enough that a dimple threatens to form on one side of his mouth, precursor to a more charming grin, no doubt. "I confess myself intrigued. So few are forthright with their esoteric powers."
Pepper takes a moment to realize that the pain is almost completely gone, but yeah, she feels like she's just on the other side of the flu or some such. "Thank you," she says quietly to Zatanna as she sits up gingerly and resettles her clothing, pulling her jacket closer as if for a bit more warmth.
This is about when she sees and actually notices Hod for the first time in this entire fiasco. She watches the man with simple curiosity, especially as he seems to have some Star Trek-like lighting thing going on to obscure his face when the lighting in this museum is usually fairly bright and even everywhere. Curiouser and curiouser.
"Ambrose, I think it's time I should be heading back," she tells the man after accepting one of those tickets and looking it over.
Hod ignores the ticket being handed to him, could be because the charms of a magic show are lost on him for so very many reasons, or it could be because he just doesn't know she's offering him something. "The title does not instill in me a burning need to expand my literary knowledge. I can't begin to imagine it would do anything to improve my life." books about backstabbing nobility and royal politics? Yeah. No thanks. He's lived through all the real deals already. What's the book gonna shock him with? Dragons? He barely escaped a run in with Nidhogg a month past. Nope. He's good.
"You seem like a nice girl and all, but if anyone tells you you needs to be added to whatever it is I'm doing I recommend you strike that person with a nice curse. Something in the errectile disfunction camp seems fitting." he straightens after that, "I don't know what's going on here, I don't know why I was summoned, but I do. Not. Like it. Reccomendation? No one ever get involved with me, only leads to the noncountry song style of heartache." he reaches up to tip an imaginary hat to them all, "Best of luck to the lot of you. I need a drink." and he turns to leave.
"And where can I find you, should I need further advice, Hodr?" Zatanna calls after the God. Fenris, or Akela as he will be known to her, is shifting bodies of satyrs around. "I don't need adding to anything but thank you for the advice anyway."
"You're most welcome, Miss Potts. I'm sorry you got hurt by Brian over there. He'll be sorry when he wakes up, I'm sure."
"Not magical like this … no." Zatanna smiles to the Jackal. "Sleight of hand, prestidigitation and the like. I'm returning to New York after an extended world tour." As to her other powers, she laughs. "It's hard to hide it when you make the camera for standing down a hell lord or his entourage."
The tickets are given and Zee murmurs again. Blue arcane light swirls … the cabinets repair themselves, the statue stands back up. "Now, if you'll all excuse me … I'll get these Satyrs back, take Brian home - I believe he's a boss fight to complete - and put that cap where no one will be able to get to it.
"I really hope to see you at my show."
With a gesture and another incantation, the Mistress of Magic opens a portal and sends the Satyrs through. Brian levitates and floats through as well, with Zee following, the portal closing behind her.
Leaving Ambrose and Pepper, Fenris and the departing Hod, alone in the museum once more.