Convention of Covens
Roleplaying Log: Convention of Covens
IC Details

It's convention season and one particular magical convention accidentally opens a portal to frog-dog-demons.

Other Characters Referenced:
IC Date: May 17, 2019
IC Location:
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 18 May 2019 19:52
Rating & Warnings:
NPC & GM Credits: GM: Dani Moonstar
Associated Plots

Spring has finally sprung and the weather has been nicer. Wet, rainy, sometimes soggy, but still so much better than snow and ice.

On top of spring season being here it's also that time of year again -


- that's right, it's the start of the convention season. There's all sorts; comic book, movies, television, sci-fi/fantasy, horror and also MAGICAL.

Yup, there are magical-centric conventions. Perhaps the majority of the convention-goers aren't necessarily magical, but who's counting?

Either way, for this particular early evening (dusk) a venue within New York City itself is hosting a Covens Convention. All brands of magical (witch, warlock, hedge-witch/wizard) and non-magical folk are welcome.

For those that are within the sprawling booth-halls there's all sorts of scents and colors to assault the eyes. Crystals, incense, goblets and chalices, even small cauldrons can be found here.

Along with that are books, scrolls, tombs, some stylishly made and while others are more … gaudy in appearance.

The people are much the same, some appear very low-key with their personalities and outfits and others are much more dramatic. Just about everyone is represented in the throngs of people that can be found.

For tonight the opening ceremonies involve a 'spell of positivity'. It's a spell to banish negativity and only allow positivity within their sacred circle and within one of the convention halls people begin to gather together.

For those outside, light drizzling hazy rain begins to fall. Pedestrian traffic walks up and down the sidewalks, while various cars, vans, SUVs and public transportation zip along the streets.


One of those pedestrians is Rogue, gloved hands in the pockets of her ratty, unmarked aviator's jacket. The thing is barren of any patches or insignia, though here and there one might see the threadbare spots where they've been removed. She ducks her head against the rain and keeps moving.

Truth be told, she has no love for coming into the city these days. There's too much chance of getting swept up and shipped off. But she'd come in to do a favor for a friend. Moving help, which is surely one of the Ten Forms of Help that proves one is a Real Friend. Her muscles ache from the effort and she's just trying to get back to the train that took her in here. Even if she does love cars, she's not about to drive one here. The gridlock is too frustrating.

She takes a hasty step back as a fair of late convention goers quickly run past her, badges flapping on their necks and various and sundry symbols around their arms. Despite the fact that they nearly ran her down, Southern politeness prompts her to apologize to them, with a soft, "Scuse me, y'all."

They don't even hear, eager to get to the positivity as they are.


Longshot hasn't costumed specifically for the events, but he fits in nonetheless. He has a black jacket with a hint of sparkle to it, a golden light emblem emblazoned on the left breast, complete with epaulets and heavy cuffs. He also has a sword on his hip, which everyone assumes is either peacebound or fake but is definitely, absolutely very real and very sharp. He's just gotten lucky so far, it seems.

He's got a set of what appears to be double cheeseburgers from a nearby fast food place, idly juggling them between his unusual hands, five at a time. Does he have even more cheeseburgers in his coat? Maybe. He, too, dodges a few crowds of people, skipping off to one side and tossing a double over their heads before catching it on the other side.

"This place is lively! I like it!”’’


Parked outside along the side of the street is a very plain older model Jeep Grand Cherokee in a darker green. The lights and engine are off. A shadowy figure that has been out weathering the elements approaches, unlocking the door and climbing in. The door is locked, the keys stuffed into the ignition but are not yet turned. Rain-soaked hair gets swept out of their eyes, then a rag is pulled from the glovebox to clean some errant blood off of their knuckles.

Soon their attention drifts upward as someone else walks by with hands driven into the pockets of a worn out looking jacket a moment later. Something about the lady with the bowed head gets a faint "Hmmh" from the pale woman in the Jeep as she tosses the rag aside and reaches for her phone.

"Hey, T. Yeah. Not really. Copy that."

Domino flicks her phone aside and slumps back into the seat, both hands resting upon the wheel. Then she starts to smirk. "That was fun."


Nico Minoru had a slightly rough time bringing herself to go out here. It's still kind of hard. It's like making ANOTHER admission about yourself. And yet, the only way you can overcome these anxieties is to confront them, right? (Maybe. Sort of.)

Also she had to do a rest day from all her workouts or she would literally die.

Nico is inside of the hall, walking round. She is wearing a slightly violet button-up dress shirt, some black silk gloves (which were completely unnecessary), a high-waisted pleated skirt made out of black leather (completely necessary, also has pockets and brass rivets), dark hose and ankle-high black heeled boots.

She is also holding a chalice she just bought that is made out of carved quartz, which is sitting in her hand like an (empty) wine glass. She is following along the nondescript hippie who carved it in Vermont, because he reminded her, hey, it's time.

"I am so glad nothing weird has happened yet," Nico says.

The old hippie looks at her for a moment, looks away, and hastily speeds up, diverting to the right to get out of Nico's line of sight.

Nico's expression to this is best rendered as :/


"Well, I feel out of place."

It's a comment that's spoken to no one in particular as Khalid Nassour finds himself in the company of those who are into the convention scene, standing as far as he can off to one side while not-so-inconspicuously scrutinizing the con-goers in passing.

In trying to avoid getting rained on, he's been also trying to contact his girlfriend, glancing down at his phone screen every so often as he tries (and sort of fails) to blend in with the crowd proper. So far, nothing has shown up in reply to two of his texted messages.

Not that it's bothering him. He knows she's probably getting a head start on studying while he…isn't.

Blowing out a breath past his lips, the med student leans back, watching as things get underway. "I still don't know why we're even here, Nabu, but this…this is kind of weird," he mutters under his breath. A beat passes before he quickly adds, "Unless you like this stuff." He briefly looks over his shoulder, and maybe down at the strap of his overstuffed backpack. "No offense. Just an opinion — different tastes and interests, that's it."


A few more fast-paced walkers zip past Rogue and into the local building turned convention hall; unlike her Southern Charm they barely say the appropriate excuse me.

While Longshot surely has a unique flare about himself (and his hands), it doesn't seem to phase most people on sight, well, up until he starts juggling burgers. That actually causes several convention goers to pause - even clap! - but the flow of traffic definitely leads towards the main meeting room inside.

The room itself is jam packed and as people enter several harried looking individuals pass out sheets of paper. A look at the paper shows several lines of words though they are not written in English; a discerning eye might realize they're Latin.

In the middle of the room a forty-something woman, dressed in blacks and grays raises her voice. "All right, all right, let's settle down." She says, "We're here to open the Covens of Convention on a good note. The paper you were given is a spell that will help us banish all negative energy from within and only welcome positive energy. Now together - 1 - 2 - 3."

And this is really where it all starts to so terribly wrong. So wrong.

Several dozens of eyes look down at the paper and upon hearing 'three', they speak as one.

Several dozen voices raise upward and while most here are NOT magically inclined, some are. More importantly, however, is the fact that words and intent hold power within the magical world.

And so, within this room, as the last few words are spoken by the large group that heaviness finally coalesces and like tumblers clicking free the lock opens. Or, in this case, a doorway.

Oh let's be honest, a WHOLE BUNCH OF DOORWAYS.

It starts simply enough a faceted crystal that hangs around young man's neck twitches, turns, which causes the man to look downward. He's features twist into confusion and as he reaches for that shiny crystal it shatters!

Then another crystal explodes, and another, and another, and with each musical fracture people involuntarily scream, jump or gasp.

It culminates with Nico Minoru, or more specifically her chalice. From the depths of the quartz a hand reaches upwards. A big hand. An ugly hand - how the hell does the hand fit in such a small space? But it does and as it stretches outward another joins it. Should Nico actually look into the depths of the goblet she's going to find the mug of a demon staring at her.

For those that are in the maze of booths and tables, they too will hear the crack of crystals, and with each shatter people scream. One particular table is set up with hand-made sun catchers. Each is something different, a flower, a bird, animals, moon, stars, just about everything. Most spin lazily, but one begins to whirl faster. The one that gives the impression of fire, an abstract piece that almost glitters as it spins and twirls and from the blurred lines shadows begin to gather.

For those outside they aren't safe either - it just takes a few seconds for trouble to be realized.

That realization comes in several forms; a car suddenly swerves and barrels toward the sidewalk, towards Rogue. For Domino, she might feel the sudden vibration from her phone. Almost like a text message being received, only it's not a text message. Upon the now lit-up face of her phone the visage of something demonic can be seen; it looks like a cross between a dog and a frog, and it's large. The face of Domino's phone bulges outward suddenly as the snout and face of the creature pushes outward. It won't take long for the beastie to be fully out, inside the jeep, with Domino.


Rogue's eyes widen as she realizes the car is coming straight forward. She dives out of the way in what can only be described as 'the nick of time.' She looks up to realize the driver isn't malicious, or drunk, or crazy.

Her mouth drops open in shock as she realizes she's seeing some…thing coming out of the woman's rearview. Some cross between a frog or a dog and something out of a monster movie. Little wonder the woman is swerving, but…

Rogue can certainly see a few dozen ways that could go horribly wrong, and not just for her. She springs up and tries to make a dive for the car before it gets too far away or speeds up too much. Her instinct is to help the driver, but she doesn't…really…exactly have a plan yet. Step one is getting there, and she's already improvising that much.


Longshot distributes the cheeseburgers liberally among some of the passersby as he makes his way into the opening ceremony, just in time to see some really weird things go down. Is he used to weird things? Absolutely. Does he know what to do? He hasn't got the first clue. But that's never stopped him before.

"This all seems very bad! Go to safety and I will fight…whatever needs to be fought! Worry not, noble geeks!" he cries, drawing his sword. What's he going to swordfight? The fire? The demon? Well…that doesn't seem practical. But something will come his way, surely, eventually.


Domino is just starting to reach for the ignition when the phone starts to vibrate in the seat beside her, prompting a sigh and an uptick of palms in a 'what the hell!' motion. "If that boy's credit is bad I am gonna kick his sorry—"


No..that's kinda more of a dog in the—


The phone is immediately thrown as the screen starts to flex and the bizarre looking face upon it -starts to come through the phone.- It strikes the window, bounces off of the seat, lands into the passenger footwell..then becomes target practice.

Anyone nearby the Jeep in question is going to hear a loud thudding sound rapidly repeating itself, perfectly timed with the flash of an orange-hued light.

Inside of the Jeep there's a freaked out albino chick who's coming up with another swear word with each pull of the trigger until her pistol runs empty, acrid smoke filling the interior as what's left of her phone (and the creature?) lie in a twisted, shredded mess of debris.

A quick reload is immediately followed with "KNEW I shoulda set up my voicemail!" Like that might have prevented the whole ordeal!


Nico sets down, breathes. She looks towards the woman, reaches into her little con bag to pick out the paper. She smiles to herself. She looks at the words - it's anodyne Wiccan stuff but it's still kind of soothing. She joins the chorus, and for a moment, she feels like she's part of a group in a more than hesitant way—

AND THEN: Crystal demon revelations.

Nico looks at her little treasure. A hand comes out of it, reaches for her. She can see another thing in there, something with black eyes and a face like a carnivorous goat's skull, and - the swipe comes, she swerves, the other arm comes up, she throws it on the ground —

The goblet shatters!

("No refunds!" says the hippie, three rows of groupies behind her. Nico hears him very clearly.)

Of course, the shattered crystals begin to spread out, to admit whatever demon dimension in - smaller perhaps but more of them. But one crystal in particular came up, rose, gashed lightly over the front of Nico's left leg. Nico feels the hot little sting.

Her eyes glaze over slightly. It's a feeling like she's going to throw up, except that instead of using her mouth it's her *soul*. She says the words without any intention behind it: "When blood is shed, let the Staff of One emerge!" And then it rises up from behind the fashion tie on her dress shirt, pushing the strip of cloth aside as Nico reaches up, grasping it tightly. Magenta light crackles round the Staff, her eyes, her hand.

"I just came out here to *enjoy myself*," Nico breathes afterwards, before glancing round, panicking inwardly for a moment, and then raising the Staff itself aloft. "Get out of here!" Nico calls out. "Nearest Emergency Exit!" That last one was itself magic, guided however questionably by Nico's intention to help all these people Get Their Fronts Out, as Red Robin might say (to carefully avoid a cuss).


Seconds earlier, Khalid ran through a thought — a thought that told him he should be going somewhere that wasn't here. This wasn't a library, a coffee shop, or anyplace appropriate to hunker down to study his class notes. Not in all of this, anyway.

Except when he tries to go out, he finds himself amid the gathered, balking lightly as he's handed a piece of paper. "-Ah, no, it's okay, I can't read." Awkward beat. "This. I can't read this, this isn't even— "

But things continue, the Mistress of Ceremonies gets started with the chanting and he has to stand there and pretend he's following along—

Until everything goes crazy.

This is where Khalid's brain speeds up to tell him that he really needs to get out of there.

"HOLY!" he gripes, biting back the upward pitch of his voice into a scream as his expression fulfills his current emotional state at the sight. He didn't sign up for this! But now he has to deal! And to do this WITHOUT getting attacked by one of the many demons summoned will be a trick.

Instead of staying upright, the med student ducks down, trying to dodge feet as he crawl-rolls across the floor to stay hidden. For now. Getting the backpack in front of his body adds to the struggle, but he unzips it, grabbing for the golden helmet that's nestled inside.

"Is this what you wanted to see, Nabu?? Because I sure didn't!" Khalid hisses, glaring at the helmet before practically dunking it onto his head.

From this, the immediate change is…nothing spectacular, only adding a large gold amulet onto the front of his light-blue hooded sweatshirt. At least he can now flip around to shoot bolts of light from his hands, aiming for the nearest demons overhead.


There's a disturbance in the…astral plane. And while it may not necessarily be coming from it, it's causing enough of a reverberation that it doesn't go unnoticed by one lingering just between such places. The shudder passes, like a great many voices had suddenly been silenced. The feeling left in its wake is completely unnatural.

Frowning to himself, the Gentleman Ghost adjusts his hat, straightens the lapels of his suit and with a twirl of his cane, he steps

Into the realm of the living. Where once again it seems insanity has broken loose. The familiar tinge in the air has him wrinkling his nose, though unseen, his monocle turning towards the large building. Clothed all in white from head to foot, the cloaked figure might cause a start amongst those of the living who might be about the streets, at least, if there weren't already people panicking from other, more demonesque means.

And then a car jumps the curb after nearly hitting a woman, and it goes right through him even as said woman moves to try leaping after it for whatever reason. His white cloak flaps behind him with the car's passing, a gloved hand grasping the brim of his hat. Sighing, he glances after it and then around before shaking his invisible head.

"I wonder why I even bother coming back to this city," he mutters.



That's the sound of the car that Rogue just barely avoided crunching hard into a nearby building. Airbags deploy, which ultimately saves the woman driving it, but does that mean the demon-frog-dog is taken care of? Hardly! The bump and chunk seem to help it as it falls completely through the mirrored surface. Then it gives itself a rough shake and turns reddened eyes to the passenger side window. With a jump it crashes through the window and toward both Rogue and that ghostly physique of Jim Craddock.

Domino's phone lays upon the floor in ruins; wrecked and smoking. The demon dog? Not so much.

Oh, it definitely has bullet holes in its ugly hide and it drips a black viscous blood, but it's quite alive and breathing and it's mad. It is really really mad. Red-eyes turn to Domino and not soon afterward it slithers up into the passenger seat and then it springs! Right for Domino!

A puddle of its black blood can be found in the passenger side footwell, covering the shattered remnants of Domino's phone.

And while there are currently only TWO demon-frog-dogs outside, it's going to change soon, as person after person after person feel the buzz of their phones. As phones are retrieved from pocket, purse and bag, the screams begin.

Inside the building it's slightly worse -

Longshot brandishes his sword, which possibly gets him a few more crazed side-eyed sort of looks, but most people begin to run. Scream too. Push and shove.

The stampede of convention goers only gets worse when Nico throws her carved quartz chalice away from her. It hits the floor and shatters into a million pieces, each fragment shining from the ceiling lights above the crowd.

When Nico calls out her spell an exit appears, though perhaps not necessarily what one might envision as an 'emergency exit'. Instead a door-sized section of the wall disappears in a flash and from the top of that 'doorway' a small sign drops downward, it reads simply: GET OUT.

It leads to the alleyway right outside and upon seeing that 'door' people run for it.

The Mistress of the Ceremonies says, "Oh no, what happened? Nono. This isn't right!"

While the goblet is shattered, that doesn't stop the first demon from emerging completely. It's definitely different than the frog-dogs; it's almost bipedal and as soon as it's free it cackles a sound that holds notes of humanity and intelligence, but also something close to an animal's bray. It doesn't sit still for long either, its senses drawn to Nico and more importantly her Staff of One. "Give its to us!" It screeches before it launches itself at Nico, its claw-tipped hands outstretched for the Staff of One.

Khalid's bolts of light hit several demons and with each hit the smaller demons disperse with a *POP* which then emits a foul smell of brimstone and death. THANKFULLY the shards on the floor allow more demons to find their way through -

These are more fodder, the kind of demons you might see in the movies. All teeth and leathery skin, claws and ugly eyes, and they all scuttle to attack anything around them.

A handful of demons lurch at Longshot, while another handful scuttles at Khalid and the Helm of Nabu.

The fire-themed sun catcher continues to turn.


Rogue takes a start for the woman, buuuut really, where is she going to get her that's safer than where she is, airbagged and possibly worth ignoring? Meanwhile she's got problems of her own. She catches Craddock's statement and opines: "I'm askin' myself the same thing, hon. Sure as the day is long, I am."

Right now she's not a bastion of power. And she's not about to try absorbing dog frog nonsense. But she's training enough. When the demon runs for her, she waits, slipping into a stance. When it gets close enough, she tries to seize it and use its own momentum to send it sailing through the air and into something hard.


Longshot backflips over a charging demon, spinning low with his rapier and slashing at its heels, then rising up and impaling another with swashbuckling derring-do. His blonde hair sweeps back from his brow and his left eye sparkles and gleams when he leaps up and runs up the back of another one, doing a spinning attack that sends one of its limbs flying.

"Pesky creatures! You're no match for…Longshot!" he says, breaking into a smile as if someone was taking his picture. Maybe they were.


That didn't work. It didn't work the creature is still alive it's COMING RIGHT FOR HER—

Domino, being an attempt at creating the perfect weapon, trained in all manner of combat and weaponry, swiftly reacts purely based upon instinct to avoid the incoming threat:

She reclines the seat.

The froglodog shatters the driver's side window and neatly ejects itself from the Jeep only to get utterly creamed by another car before it has a chance to hit the brakes because -what the hell did they just hit?!-

Dom's head lifts up to peer out of the window at the bloodied carnage with a "Huh. So that works."

Pale fingers go for the ignition.
Jeep engine starts.
Transmission put into gear.
Boot stomps onto accelerator.

In a matter of seconds Neena Thurman has embraced the spirit of Ash Williams. The first victim to be claimed by her grill? The critter that Rogue flung aside. It starts with a *WHUMP* then something way ickier sounding as the beast gets caught under the wheels, causing half of the Jeep to leap away from the pavement.

"Carnage express, comin' through!"

Dom's Jeep manages to rack up a number of kills until one of them explodes upon impact, covering the windshield with gore. The Jeep strikes a less forgiving obstacle and careens to the side before barrelrolling and landing square on top of another nasty right as it's lunging for a bystander. Nothing's left but a giant red stain and gory all weather tires freely spinning in the rain-filled air.

With gore oozing out of the footwell and onto the sprawled out albino lying upon the crumpled and overturned roof, a weak voice declares "Touchdown…"


"Oh god, that stinks!" Khalid-Fate cries in his deeper helmet tone, further ruining any sense of mystery about him as the demons pop. He sort of regrets using the bolts, but it's too late to do anything about it now. And if he lingers any longer, he'll be demon food.

Seeing a bunch of them scuttling toward him is not a fun perspective.

Think fast, think fast, THINK FAST. His eyes fly over, darting in Longshot's direction as he handles a similar situation before glancing over to where Nico is. "All right, here goes nothing," he breathes, extending his arms and hands outward with subtle flair. "HEY! Watch out!"

Any booths nearby are suddenly without their printed banners and partition curtains, cloth and vinyl flying directly at the demons charging him and the goth witch to keep them from getting any closer. Which is like, very close-call in this situation; he still tries has to kick one or two grabby hands on his leg, pulling himself back as he does. "AHHH, LEGGO!"


Nico looks over towards Khalid. "Hi," she says. Then he spoke of Holy. "Not really," she continues, looking forwards, as a demon demands the Staff of One.

"Oh, you want it?" she says, raising the staff upwards, along with her eyebrows.

When the thing comes towards her, lifting grabby talons caked with sulfrous filth of another realm, Nico swings the Staff of One down on its head.

The Staff of One may predate humanity and possibly the Sun itself, and so it does not break; however, it is essentially a large solid object and not particularly weighty. Nevertheless this is not a course of action the demon expected, and so for a moment the advantage is Nico's. Especially since all of that physical training has in fact paid off. Sort of.

Even so she has but moments. Moments in which — to act! "Go Visit the Titanic," Nico tells the demon. The Staff of One brightens…

There is a brief displacement of air.

The demon isn't there any more. Instead, there are others - cloth is flying towards them thanks to Khalid's will (she thinks?) "O-oh, hey," she says, before one grabs AT Khalid and Nico's head turns from cloth to devil-grasped leg to cloth again before she brandishes the staff and calls down another spell. "Con Trash Get Scene AF!"

The printings, the curtains, the vinyl — all of them metamorphize into chrome-spiked leather (except the vinyl, obviously, which just sprouts chrome spikes). This will no doubt add substantially to demon bleeding; indeed a splatter of a greenish ichor hits Nico's own cheek, and she flinches, because the horrible thing is that the smell reminds her of beef vegetable soup! (As does the heat and texture.)


Craddock offers Rogue a tip of his hat, a greeting and acknowledgement of agreement. "Glad I'm not the only one, at least," he replies with a mild snort of exasperation as his monocle turns towards the demon canine as it launches itself towards them.

That the woman hasn't run away from things at the start has already clued him in on the possibility that she's not an average human. He watches as Rogue makes a grab for the beast to fling it, and he follows up its collision with a blast of violet flames from his staff. "What blasted fool's let demons in this time?" He turns and looks around as more of the creatures emerge from those awful cellular devices, stepping back as he brings up his free hand- which this time bears an old-fashioned flintlock pistol. The shots from it are anything but old-fashioned as he fires one after another, lining up each shot with whatever demonly target presents itself.



The demon-frog-dog is hip-checked and tossed away by Rogue, only to become fodder for Domino's wheels OF DEATH.

Many a demon die beneath those wheels and with each squish and crunch, the stench of brimstone and death increases.

And while Domino declares her 'touchdown', which was QUITE successful in eliminating demons, more begin to appear. From the screens of various smartphones, from the lights of lamps, from just about any surface that reflects or shines.

The focal point of the demons might be seen, as the building that holds the convention begins to disgorge a lot of people. So. Many. Screaming. People. They run outside shouting things like: OH MY GOD! Monsters! MONSTERS!

Totally monsters.

And while there are monsters inside and outside, there's now also a ghost shooting said monsters with flint-lock pistols and violet blasts of energy.

There truly is never a dull moment in New York City.

For Domino there's a solid *thunk* from the 'top' of her Jeep as two demon-frog-dogs land heavily upon it.


Longshot hacks and slashes his way through the various demons around him. They howl and screech as he wounds them, and like all the rest when they're dismembered the stench of yuck assaults the nose. More roll into view around him and with yips and barks, the small band of frog-dog-demons pounce at the blond man.

Khalid sends the bits and pieces of booths and tables at the demons as an impromptu shield or barricade, and it works. For Nico, her words sends the goat-skulled demon packing. Its whisked away by that displacement of air and finds itself way down in the ocean. Way. Way. Down. It's a safe bet that it won't be coming back. At least, any time soon.

Her next words cause the barricade to grow sharp and dangerous spikes. Several demons and demonlings and demon dogs find themselves skewered upon said spikes.

The owner is really going to have to get the building professionally cleaned at this point.

The suncatcher that spins flares bright with a reddish light as the metal bits and pieces continue to spin rapidly; gathering energy with each turn.


"What the heck is causing all these dadgum things?" Rogue demands, even as she kicks a demon hard. But she's getting a bit overwhelmed with demons coming from every everything. "If someone's done turned on an ugly-generator we oughta find it and cut it off!"

Not that she goes looking. First, she's busy trying to dislodge a demon that's come down atop her and wrapped its arms around her neck. Second, she wouldn't know what a demon-generator would look like, or how to turn it off if she found one. This is just her peanut-gallery observation.

Growing a bit more desperate and a bit less full of air, she turns her body sideways, hoping to give the pale guy a better shot. Why no. No, he does not really rank that highly on the List of Strange happening today.

"Do a girl a solid, sugar?"


Eugh, oh man..-so much gore-..and the SMELL! Even from the perspective of active warzones Domino's got herself in a particularly ugly situation. Making matters worse there's demons climbing atop of the upside down Jeep and lying face-up is not what she wants to be doing with all of the falling goo!

One arm tries to shield her face (mostly the nose) while the other contents itself with blindly firing up through the seats and footwells after the creatures. Maybe it'll give them something to worry about while she crawls out through the missing side window.

What's black and white and red all over? -This- chick. Looking like death warmed over (and thank goodness for the rain!) Dom scans the immediate area and finds some potential support in the shape of Rogue and some ghostly white dude with a strange flintlock and a friggin' -monocle?!-

Whatever. One looks confident and one has a gun. Those are her kind of odds.

A shotgun is swiped from beneath the Jeep's rear bumper (doesn't everyone stash one back there?) then she's sprinting toward the two with a slight limp. "This is fun, right? We're having fun. I friggin' love this city!"

She really doesn't.


Fate — well, Khalid — stares at the massacre through the Helm of Nabu's eyes. He should be relieved his leg isn't going to get eaten as a snack anymore. Nico makes it look easy, the banners and curtains now spikes and leather definitely doing their job and not leaving them out of the splash zone. An arm instinctively goes up to shield himself from some of it, but still. Gross green stuff.

He then looks up at the young woman, still trying to logic his way around magic because magic makes no sense. Especially since she just…made the other one disappear completely. "Er. Hi." His deep voice resonates, haltingly. "And thanks. I guess."

Right, they still have a lot going on in the background. People are still screaming. Regaining some composure, he levitates himself back onto his feet. "We should…Yeah."

Demons, demons everywhere. If there are still a lot within their vicinity, he goes back to shooting some of them full of light bolt holes.


"Interesting choice of words," the Ghost chuckles, obliging Rogue with as he takes aim and pulls the trigger to help clear her of one more problem.

Things would go quicker with two pistols, but for now he manages with the one, picking off anything venturing too closely. "I think you and I have distinctly different opinions of fun," he says in response to the pale woman accented in black, but there's a smirk in his tone to make up for the one that can't be seen.

Abruptly Craddock stops, something else catching his attention. "…well, that's not good," he comments to no one in particular.

A growl and a flurry of slobber and teeth launch in his direction then in his moment of distraction, and he barely manages to catch it's maw between his cane as it claws angrily at him. It is met with another fiery blast of violet hellfire as he levels his gun right down its throat.

"Something else is coming," he says, glancing briefly at Rogue. "Something big." Turning, he dashes towards the convention center. It's a short dash as he disappears at the steps, reappearing within and hovering high above the chaos of the floor below.

Spectral senses have already drawn his attention to where the source of the disturbance is greatest, and by now even normal sight is good enough to tell that something might be off about that fancy suncatcher! "There!" he shouts to anyone within the convention hall, those still present and not in some state of retreat or panic as he points towards the suncatcher as its light begins to brighten.

In hindsight he wonders that his sudden appearance will just make himself another target, but he's not so worried about that for the moment as he makes a preemptive strike of his own, pointing the orb of his cane towards the thing and unleashing a flurry of violet flames.


Nico Minoru turns her head and sees, over a pack of demons (wow, she thinks, I am getting super blase about constantly encountering monsters, is this what that Nietzsche thing Alex kept quoting is about?) the approach of - Longshot!

And then her attention turns towards that spinning suncatcher. "Okay," she says aloud, "I'm pretty sure that thing is evil or something. It's charging, nothing that charges like that is good. Can you like, uh-"

He probably thinks I'm some kind of hell witch, Nico thinks, and also he is basically right. "Cover me," she says, turning her eyes towards the thing. She raises the staff - And she startles, before recognizing the Gentleman Ghost! "YOU BETTER NOT BE BEHIND THIS" she shouts at him, before telling Khalid quietly, "I met him once," thinking that she's babbling, and returning her focus.

"Everything under the suncatcher is in tune but the suncatcher is eclipsed by the moon," Nico babbles. That one probably won't come up again, right? she thinks.


CONEY ISLAND, LUNA PARK: The light-up part of the sign that says Luna is sheathed in magenta light, then disappears.


A large piece of still-flickering electrical light signage that reads "LUNA" comes down towards the suncatcher. Will it be enough!? Will it make everything worse!? Nico Minoru has few hopes in this moment.


Jim Craddock helps Rogue, Domino runs over with her shot-gun, and then the Gentleman's Ghost runs for the convention center.

Even with knowing where the focus is, there's still a mess of demons to shoot, kick and plow through. Some small, some big, some medium sized and all angry and probably hungry. That hunger, for both magical items, and not, is what has talons and teeth slashed and gnashed at pretty much each and every one of those that fight tonight.

Both Jim and Nico have it correct; the sun catcher is the item that's gathered all that spell's energy and run wild with it. The whirling quickens and the light it emits brightens; it goes faster and shines brighter and from the depths a glimpse of something is seen. Something roly-poly, but not in the cute way. More like in the slithering way. This particular demon doesn't have arms, or legs, or anything remotely demon-dog like. Instead it has the scariest of scary; a demonic-kraken.

Several of its arms wriggle on out from the portal that's coalesced within the whirling dervish of the sun catcher. They stretch out towards those that look most delicious; Khalid and Nabu's helm, Jim Craddock, Nico and the Staff of One -

Only before it can wrap around those potential victims a sign appears out of nowhere and falls down. Hard.%rIt hits the sun catcher and crunches the delicate crystal and metal artwork into pieces.

As the signage hits the floor there's a loud thunk and a vague buzz of energy, as both electrical and magical energy disperses outward.

For those with such senses, there's the feeling of a doorway being firmly shut, as the portal is (quite literally) shut down hard.

The arms of that demonic kraken continue to wave, but it's more death twitch than actual attack. Still, if people want (NEED) to shoot the tentacles of doom surely no one will really mind. Best to make sure they're all dead, after all! Better safe than sorry.


As New Friend #1 disappears with a ghostly flourish, after indeed doing her…intangible…, Rogue focuses in on New Friend #2: the lady with the guns. She dives for a second shotgun, quickly gets it situated, and begins aiming and firing at demons, putting the ruined jeep at her back. "God bless America," she drawls, in satisfied tones. "Ain't exactly like shooting buckshot at squirrels, but I reckon it's close enough for government work."

And it sure beats going mono-a-mono with the things.

And when they start to thin out she goes, "Oh hey. I think someone finally turned off the Ugly Machine."


"I work with what I've got," Domino dismissively replies to Ghost while turning her back to both Ghost and Rogue. They can all cover one another, it's a simple tactic that works better when everyone has a ranged—

The shotgun goes to Rogue. "You look like someone who knows how to rock one of these." As Rogue takes to the twelve gauge like a fish to water, Neena deadpans a "Yee-haw" back.

Though speaking of a second pistol? Maybe it's only a nine millimeter and not a purple hellfire shooting flintlock but Whitey's sure got two! Which is helpful as Craddock is soon departing the area to investigate an even bigger problem.

In the meantime it's a -total- shooting gallery. Some of the faster or harder to put down demons get through Dom's defensive line and she earns some nicks and cuts but considering what the odds are she's doing extraordinarily well.

Someone turned off the Ugly Machine. Hah! "Ah man, and I was just getting warmed up," says the mercenary who has -just- run out of ammo. "Good shootin,' pardner."

Yeah, Dom may have picked up on Rogue's accent.


"I work with what I've got," Domino dismissively replies to Ghost while turning her back to both Ghost and Rogue. They can all cover one another, it's a simple tactic that works better when everyone has a ranged—

The shotgun goes to Rogue. "You look like someone who knows how to rock one of these." As Rogue takes to the twelve gauge like a fish to water, Neena deadpans a "Yee-haw" back.

Though speaking of a second pistol? Maybe it's only a nine millimeter and not a purple hellfire shooting flintlock but Whitey's sure got two! Which is helpful as Craddock is soon departing the area to investigate an even bigger problem.

In the meantime it's a -total- shooting gallery. Some of the faster or harder to put down demons get through Dom's defensive line and she earns some nicks and cuts but considering what the odds are she's doing extraordinarily well.

Someone turned off the Ugly Machine. Hah! "Ah man, and I was just getting warmed up," says the mercenary who has -just- run out of ammo. "Good shootin,' pardner."

Yeah, Dom may have picked up on Rogue's accent.


When someone says cover them, you cover them. And that is what Fate-Nassour does. It appears to work well until those demon-kraken tentacles start zoning in on every magical artifact available, sort of like that 3-D glasses effect one gets when seated in a movie theater.

Except this isn't a cheesy 3-D movie. It's very, very real.

Internally, Khalid starts panicking. Externally, however, the shift is noticeable; he stands his ground, one hand changing its direction to fire directly at the tentacle right when the sequence of suncatcher-related events take place. Now that there is less to worry about, he can still fire off a bolt to make sure it's done for.

"A Commendable Job," comes a Fate-like reply, the gold helm nodding in Nico's direction. "Fate Has Smiled Upon Us."

Another lengthy pause and he adds, sounding a little more like himself, "Annnd that's enough excitement for one evening! I think now would be a good time to clear out, don't you?"


"The very idea!" the Gentleman Ghost huffs, taken aback by Nico's accusation. After the last demon infestation he's quite done with making deals with them for the time being. Besides, they always seem to want to make him a snack!

And what sort of blather is that girl going off with now? He can feel the air hum with magic at her words so he knows they aren't just some poor attempt at poetry. It's not something he thinks about for very long as the suncatcher gives birth to the larger creature, and as it unfurls its many arms he sends another blast with his cane. "Oh no ye' don't—!"

His gun disappears as he instead makes to grab his cane with both hands as though to unsheath a blade as an arm comes snaking through the flames, and then suddenly the Nico's words hit- quite literally, in fact. The ghost stares down at the wreckage, still tense but he can sense that pressure in the atmosphere ebbing.

Glancing below, he scoffs quietly at the helmeted man's words. Fate, indeed. Whipping his cloak about him, he simply disappears, seeing no need to linger.


It works.

It works!

Nico Minoru exhales with great force. She feels herself tremble, just a little, but… huh, she thinks. I feel way less wiped than - "My apologies," she tells the Gentleman Ghost. "I just, like, this…"

Nico looks around at a ruined night out.

Then she looks to Khalid and hears the voice of Fate. "… thanks," she says. "I'm N-"

He vanishes.

Leaning against the staff, Nico says, "Ugh. Story of my life." Her eyes turn backwards, towards the… destroyed… Jeep. She opens her mouth to say something and THAT is when the Staff of One returns to its resting place (inside Nico)


The world settles down and in the distance sirens scream shrilly.

Looks like the less mystical and bullet-heavy help is set to arrive.

There's definitely going to be a lot of clean up here, a lot. It's probably a good bet this venue will never-ever-ever host the conventions ever again.

Especially mystical conventions.

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