Deal Against The Devil - Party Crashers! (IC)

[Quinn]

Push looked at him slightly askance, then nodded.

"Alright. Keep 'em busy, paste the leader if you can, but don't be reckless. That's my shtick."

He grinned, seizing his coat from a hanger beside the staircase, and walked into the small room. Bending down, he pulled the manhole up and looked back at Nick before jumping in.

"Oi, Eric. Be careful, willya?"

[trollthumper]

"'I'll see what I can do," Nick said as Quinn took off. He took a deep breath. Just you versus a bunch of demons... at least, for now, he thought. Well... there've been worse odds...

He climbed the ladder and slid open the trap door. Before the demons could react, he reached out for the feel of death in the area. There was certainly some entropy in the area -- the feel of old clunkers that had finally reached the end of their journeys -- and it mixed with the sense of traffic accidents and crashes no one could walk away from. He formed it into a weapon, and the floor of the garage erupted into a torrent of grasping hands. "Hands off the merchandise!" he yelled. "Don't they teach you any manners downstairs?"

[Quinn]

The leader roared in his Ford throne as the hands seized his arms and legs, clamping down and holding him in the seat. One warrior seemed to evade the hands for a short time himself before he was brought down beside his brother, while a pack of the imps were simply crushed beneath the various hands. They screamed in pain and horror at the grasping fingers, and the imps standing on the car fared no better; running around in fear and tumbling off to be seized by the hero's magics. The boss roared again, this time in heavily accented English.

"Who art thou that seeketh to deny us our prey?! Thou are not the hunted, interloper, our master shall rend thy soul to flinders for thy interference!"

[trollthumper]

"Flinders, huh?" Nick said. "I think it's time we reassessed the situation. First, you have struck at someone who's shown no cause to earn my disfavor, and as far as I can tell, has done no sin that would land his soul in infernal territory. Second, you are currently held in my grip. And third -- I don't care much for demons." The air darkened slightly around him. "Don't care much for corruption, temptation, or any of the other things you visit upon mankind before they cross into your domain. So I suggest you tell me a little bit more about your master, before I send you to back to him with real cause for his displeasure."

[Quinn]

The demon knight laughed, a cold, cruel thing, and stared at Nick with brimstone-colored eyes as the hero emerged from the trap-door. He struggled at his bonds, before spitting onto the floor in front of Eric, causing the cement to bubble and hiss.

"Feeble mortal, you seek to frighten me? I, who hast slain dozens of thy kind? Whatever you could possibly do would be delivered unto mine own thrice-over! We Know you, Nicholas Cimitere. We Know you well, and your reputation amongst the deep places, both the quick and the dead. Give us the Hammer-Bearer, and thou shall not suffer mightily for thy intrusion!"

[trollthumper]

Good, he doesn't have my true name, Nick thought. That would be... unfortunate.

"Wow, you guys really are insistent, aren't you?" he said to the demon knight. "No, I won't give you the hammer-bearer. And since you seem insistent on repeating yourself, let me drive something home -- you crossed into a mortal's home. To my knowledge -- which you seem utterly unable to change -- he's no signed any infernal pact, and especially none that would allow for such a... personal retrieval. That seems to me a violation of The Pact, in spirit if not in letter. And that means --" He flexed his will through one of the ectoplasmic hands, which lifted one of the smaller imps and sent it right for one of the infernal warriors.

" -- your ass is mine."

[Quinn]

The squalling imp crashed into the warrior at full speed, screeching in an ear-splitting manner before it was abruptly cut off with a sickening crunch. As it fell to the ground, it began to dissipate into motes of red-black energy, flowing through the portal. The warrior, for his part, kept a flat expression, merely looking at his superior without moving. The boss turned it's head slowly to face Nick, then gave a most fearsome face, and spoke in a booming voice that filled the room.

"Foolish mortal! We have been called here by one whose arts would dwarf yours, to bring havoc in his wake and destroy his enemies! Wouldst thou seek to bring his wrath upon your head? Wouldst thou seek to have the wrath of the inferno brought upon thy head?! Mortal necromancer, thou shall be hounded for eternity for denying us our prize!"

And upon that, he roared pure fire and fury, the hands holding him down dissipating from his infernal rage. The two warriors beside him wavered and stepped back as the hands seizing them also burned away, and they flanked the Boss. He resumed his seat with an imperious air, waving the two infernal knights forward, and they raised their swords as they advanced. The imps, for their part, struggled against their hands, and screeched horrible infernal words at Nick, cheering the two champions as they approached the rockabilly hero.

[trollthumper]

"Oh, gee," said Nick. "Whatever shall I do? Y'know, I'm going to tell you the same thing I told one of your nobles -- I've seen death in all its forms. I've seen the devourers of souls. I've seen all sorts of justice, punishment, and torture that goes on in the other worlds. You have no power over me." He lashed out with the hands once more, grasping for the freed demons.

[Quinn]

The demon's leader merely flexed his muscles this time, and the hands sloughed off as he lounged on his car throne. The warriors attempted the same, but one found himself rapidly overwhelmed by them. He laid about with his sword, but for the moment seemed quite pinned underneath the hands. As for the second, he stepped up and made a savage swipe towards Nick's head...but, overbalanced by one of the hands reaching for his leg, missed by a wide margin. He took a combat stance, readying for another blow as the boss looked on.

[trollthumper]

"Hmm..." Nick said. "All the powers of Hell... all the glory of the divine, twisted to corruption and sin and destruction and ruin... all of that..." He flexed his power through the hands once more. "...and you still can't hit one mouthy fool."

[Quinn]

"SILENCE!"

The crushed Ford throne whipped over Nick's head as the two demons were dragged to the floor, their boss standing tall. He stood there, breathing heavily with rage, his wicked mace and chain dangling from one meaty hand as the daemonlord spat invectives at Cimitere.

"You have defied us for far too long, Nicholas Cimitere! Your soul shall be dragged screaming into the lowest circles of hell, there to be...tormented...what in the inferno is that abominable noise!?"

"It ain't easy, livin' free! Season ticket on a one-way ride!"

Music began to blare from speakers in the ceiling as one garage door began to open, letting in light from the outside. The setting sun was right in the demon's eyes, illuminating a single figure standing in the entryway, holding a massive hammer on his shoulders. As the door hit the ceiling, a warp blast engulfed the monster's head, causing it to roar in pain and surprise. The figure looked at Nick, his arm outstretched in the direction of the beast...and grinned.

"Yo, am I late?"

[trollthumper]

"Just in time." Nick turned to the demons. "I believe your issue was with him? Didn't stop you from trying to turn me into confetti, however. Which leaves me wondering something... all that time, you went on about the infernal torments of the pit, and tried to scare me into surrender. Which leaves me curious... what do you fear?"

He opened his mouth, and out came a storm of gigantic wings descending, backed by the music of the spheres. A strange whisper uttered forth. "My eyes are everywhere, traitor," came the voice of Azrael, the barrow angel, the recorder of names in the Book of Life and Death. "Did you think you would escape me?"

[Quinn]

The warriors lying at Nick's feet gibbered in terror, their impassive means broken by the voice of the angel who they had defied so many eons ago. The imps, for once, fell completely silent, their eyes wide as saucers, huddled beneath the grasping hands as if that would hide them from the eyes of Azrael himself. Even the daemonlord standing before Nick felt a twinge of terror that was squashed quickly. Push, on the other hand, surreptitiously twinged one hand, and a shockwave of kinetic energy erupted from the centre of the imps. One moment, the dozen imps were huddling in terror, the next, they were as so much dust in the wind, their essences flowing back en masse through the portal, as if the voice itself had smote them down.

"Azrael! I fear not thee and thy moldering pages! Thou art as so much noise, and thy master shall fall to our might in the end of all things! As your weak mortal servant shall fall here!"

And with a cry of incoherent rage, he leapt forward, his mace swinging on the end of the chain towards Cimitere!

[trollthumper]

"Worth a shot," Nick said. "Guess you're not the type to be wounded by words. I get that." The ectoplasm rendered inert by the redistribution of will crawled across the floor, creeping out onto his hands and forming a horrific set of talons.

"These, however? Pretty sure they'll do the job." He dashed forward, raking his claws into the demon's carapace.

[Quinn]

The demon arched in pain from the claws, raising his mace to strike...and as he raised his arms, he took note of the very large hammer descending towards his head. Instinctively, he brought his arms up to hold the blow back, but the sheer power of the strike forced it down closer and closer.

"Go back to hell! And tell your boss that I'll find him, no matter what infernal scumbags he sends!"

The combination of the claws ripping into his carapace, followed by the warp-engulfed hammerhead, caused the demonlord to scream in pain and anger, and he roared to the two as his essence began to flow towards the portal.

"You...you've only delayed the inevitable! The Gray Man will have you, Hammer-Bearer! And so will our master, no matter how hard you fight! And you, Nicholas Cimitere! Your powers will not protect you when the end you walk with finally arriiiiiiiiiiives!"

And with that, the demon erupted in a great explosion, sending the heroes reeling as the last of it's essence flowed through the portal. Tools and parts and heroes flying every which way, the two demon warriors clawed at the cement as they were dragged back through the portal, and it winked out behind them.

[trollthumper]

Nick Cimitiere pulled himself off the hood of a car, tidying his jacket. "Good luck there," he muttered to himself. "You'd probably have to beat Anubis, Charon, Papa Ghede, Azrael, Ereshkigal, Manannan mac Lir, and a dozen others to the finish line." He went over to Push. "Why is it that when demons die, they always go the Highlander route? They never just go down quietly, it's always Roman candles, explosions, and unholy psalms."

[Quinn]

A pair of booted feet poked out of a very familiar car window (to Nick, sadly), and a voice floated out of it. It was rather dazed. And slightly irritated. Make that more than slightly. Very irritated.

"And the worst part is, you can never bill them for the damages. Ow."

Push's head poked up from between his knees, and he looked out at the wreckage of the garage. His head flopped back down, and the voice floated out again.

"This upholstery is very comfortable, you know that?"

[trollthumper]

Nick frowned. "Damnit," he said. "Kinda knew that was going to happen. The great law of 'I just cleaned this place, too.'" He kicked one of the tires, just to see if the laws of the universe would cause the axle to give way as well; when he was sure the car was secure, he sighed. "Oh, well. Not the worst thing that's happened to it."

[Quinn]

Push's head appeared in the window again as he slowly distangled himself and pulled his feet back under him.

"I'd ask what, but I really don't think I want to know. One sec..."

He popped the door open, clambering out, while looking around for his hammer. He caught a glimpse of the absolutely flattened Ford lying leaking oil in a corner, along with the tools and parts lying all over the place, and his shoulders sagged. Finally, he turned to Nick and gave a somewhat lopsided smile, patting Cimitere's car.

"Eh, I'll fix it up for you, no worries. And since I owe you one, I'll give you...a one percent discount."

[trollthumper]

Nick raised his eyebrows. "Really?" he said. "Y'know I could probably reanimate a graveyard and send it here, right? Keep you busy? Or I could reenact Christine en masse..." Nick's tone suggested he was joking. Well. Maybe half-joking. "Just saying."

[Quinn]

Push held up his hands in a placating gesture, talking rather quickly.

"Wait, did I say one-percent? I meant you only had to pay one percent. Yeah, that's it. One-percent discount! Ehe..."

He gave a weak grin, then sobered, and held out his hand.

"Thanks, Eric. Make that two things I owe you for."

[trollthumper]

"Don't mention it," Nick said, accepting the handshake. "I was only joking about the Christine thing. Last thing I want is more ghosts possessing cars -- had a bad experience with a modernist branch of the Wild Hunt on the Turnpike a few years back." He looked to Push. "You want me to take a read of the page? Not like I'm going to invoke anything, but just to see if I can find out more about its distribution. Like that thing with the voice back in Stratford. If I start sounding like I'm possessed -- not death-possessed, but Hell-possessed -- I give you permission to knock me out."