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"Your encouragement is appreciated but unnecessary, oh flowering oasis," the reduced god assure Fleur, examining his fingernails casually. "I am Set. An unfair advantage perhaps, but the rest of you will manage determining the second greatest amongst yourselves, I am sure."

"Second greatest braggart, in truth," Sekhmet growled, clenching and unclenching her hands into claws. A deep breath calmed her enough to turn to the gathered heroes with a vaguely apologetic expression "Your offers of aid are to thine credit, mortals, but trust my words when I tell you he is not worthy of your efforts. I shall ensure he causes no mischief and troubles you not."

Her diminutive charge scoffed. "You are too proud yourself, Sekhemt. Tis rudeness to dismiss an invitation. I-- hm?" The sound of leather flapping growing louder drew his attention upward. Growing clearer as they neared, an entire flock of humanoid forms with great, bat-like wings was carving a path through the clouds directly toward the group. Polished bone jewelry gleamed against tattered robes that brought to mind the ancient Aztecs as readily as the Egyptian gods evoked their own past civilization. Horribly, the skin about their mouths seemed to have been ritualistically cut, pulled back and pinned in place to expose skeletal jaws and serpentine fangs.

"You still have tzitzimimeh?" Set asked, sounding both surprised and intrigued by the imminent arrivals. "How quaint! I'd thought the devouring of mortal flesh more frowned upon in this era."

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"Ah, damn, where's Knorozov when you need him..." None of the languages of the natives of North America were spoken by Comrade Frost, an omission that would surely be a problem today. "Tzitimitl," he said after a moment's recollection. "Fertility deities who eat men's flesh when there is eclipse, and attempt to devour Sun itself." He shrugged. "Aztecs were strange people, what can I tell you? This is not even the strangest thing they once knew. Fine conversationalists and protectors of women in labor when they are not provoked. But they are often provoked. Imagine serpentine midwives who hunger for manflesh with divine power at...well, explain later." He shot a look at Set and Sekhmet, evidently waiting for an explanation. "If they have come to Earth, it is not for any easy business. Suggest we prepare ourselves." He thought for a moment, then said, "Sutekh, they wouldn't be working for Apep, hmm? Snakes that devour Sun that they are." 

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"Haven't really had many meetings with anyone outside of Mictlan," Nick said, "so can't really say either way. Well, there was that thing with Xipe Totec at the Hunter Museum, but he went down pretty quickly. Didn't even get one flaying in. Which was very, very good." He looked the dreadful serpentine woman over. "But, yeah. They're more the 'avenging angels' of Aztec myth - 'do as the divine dictates, or we're going to make you all sorry.' Which kinda makes me wonder why they're coming for Set..." 

 

He cleared his throat, trying to get as proper and diplomatic as he could muster. "Hail, emissaries of Tamoanchan," he said. "What business does the Obsidian Butterfly have here?" 

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"If Apep were returned, I would know it," Set told Frost tersely in a hushed tone, no hint of amusement or joviality in his voice for once, though he sounded unsure of his assertion. "I do not see why you are so sure they are here for me--"

"Hail, Lord Ssset the Dessstroyer," the tzitzimimeh greeted in perfect unison, voices sounding parched and breathy. Up close fine scales could be seen in their unflayed flesh while unseen shapes moved disconcertingly against their robes from within. The flock landed on the street as one, numerous enough to completely block off all of the lanes. As soon as they touched down, the Aztec messengers knelt in deference, facing toward a nonplussed Set.

"...well!" the godling began after a beat. "At least some remember their manners around a member of the Ennead! About the 'Destroyer' business, howev--"

Evidently manners only went so far as the tzitzimimeh interrupted him, still using a single voice from many fanged mouths. "The augussst Asssssemblage sssends greetingsss and congratulationsss on thine resssssurection," they began, still kneeling while leathery wings twitched as though unaccustomed to stillness. "We ssshall essscort you to our massstersss. Immediately."

Set rubbed his chin with one hand and raised an eyebrow thoughtfully. "Did that finally get off of the ground? Well, good for them!" he pondered largely to himself with a nod. "I think, however, my goals may no longer align with those of the Assemblage, oh winged warriors. I am turning over a new leaf, so to speak!" He offered them a broad grin for all their eyes were turned downward. "Heroism! Protecting the mortal realm and its peoples! It should prove most interesting. I'm sure there are no hard feelings."

The was a silent pause that continued long enough to become painfully awkward, then the tzitzimimeh rose simultaneously to their feet. "Tisss not a requessst."

"Hold, Tamoanchanians!" Sekhemt called, her body language tense as she regarded what were in some ways her opposite numbers. "Though it grieves me, I am honorbound to prevent undue harm from the betrayer's head. Take his message to your masters and depart in peace."

The flock tilted their heads to one side in unison, hair like discarded snake skins flapping in the faint breeze. "Lady of Ssslaughter. You ssshould not have abandoned so much of thine power. You are lesssss than an inconvenience."

The goddess' one visible eye blazed with fury as she snarled, "You dare?!"

"I rather think they do, yes," Set interjected, raising his hands in similar gestures to those he'd made to deal with the offending car alarm. "Apologies again, oh blooming flower," he told Fleur his youthful features taking a serious cast. "We may not be finished damaging your roadways just yet."

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"Wait just one moment, please!" Fleur raised her hands for attention, then removed her mask so as to get a better look at the bizarre face-off. The winged warriors were startlingly inhuman and rather gruesome, but she managed to take a good look without flinching. "We are the guardians of this city and the people inside it," she said, gesturing to herself and the other locals. "Set and his companion have come to this city in peace" or close enough, she added silently, "and that places them under our protection as well. I understand that you feel you have old unfinished business with him. Please tell us exactly what that business is, and why you believe you're entitled to take him somewhere that he clearly doesn't want to go." 

 

With the next breath, she turned to look at Sekhmet, who seemed about ready to start a fight no matter what the messengers had to say. "Please," she added to the angry protector, "let's get this figured out before anyone has to get hurt. You know we want to help you if we can." 

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Sekhemt's expression made it clear that someone getting hurt was precisely her goal but she refrained from immediately launching herself at the offending tzitzimimeh at least for the moment, grating her teeth audibly and staring daggers.

"We need not explain ourssselvesss to mortalsss," the frightening flock chorused looking as one to Fleur. "The Asssssemblage hasss desssignsss on this world. Ssset is too great a player to remain unchecked."

"I cannot help but feel there is some irony to be found here," the reduced god himself noted, shifting his stance warily. He had expected greater respect for his might upon his return to the mortal plane but this wasn't the sort of attention he'd had in mind. "Tis considerably less entertaining in this context."

"The Dessstroyer isss no friend to your kind, dessspite hisss empty wordsss," the tzitzimimeh told the heroes, terrible forms shivering slightly in anticipation of battle. "Our masssters can keep him... detained. Ssstand assside."

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"I am no mortal," replied Frost, his distaste for the God of Lies suitably displaced by his feelings about the flesh-eating snake-fiends of Aztec lore. "And neither, you will find, are most of these others." He began taking off his heavy gloves, flexing white-blue fingers underneath, as he moved to put his very resilient body between the fallen godling and those who wanted his flesh. "Whatever crimes Set has committed  and I have no doubt they were both legion and egregious, this is no world where men can be dragged away to torture and punishment by powers beyond those of mortals, whether those powers represent Assemblage or otherwise. Go from this place and tell your masters they must look elsewhere. There is no sun for you to devour here, nor warm summer days of blood and slaughter. Instead, you will find the cold embrace of wintery defeat should you tarry. The Sun has set on your empire."

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Gaian Knight sighed, but he made himself no less ready for battle, adjusting his fingerless gloves as bits of earth and stone picked up off the nearby ground to hover, half protection and half threat, around his body. "Nobody ever wants to take the easy way, and just talk things out. Why is it that nobody ever listens to reason and surrenders or backs off?"

Tiamat was not so resigned, cracking her knuckles and grinning. "Because it's no fun. Last chance, though, little serpents - run home, or step off: Fleur de Joie's smarter than you are, and you'd be smart to listen to her. Not fun, but smart."

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The tzitzimimeh hissed collectively at Frost's ultimatum, writing unnaturally and raising clawed hands. From behind the white-suited Russian, Set looked legitimately dumbfounded by the show of support and after a beat genuinely touched by the gesture despite Frost's stated aversion to him. The expression of perceived debt looked wholly alien on the godling's sculpted features.

All of their reactions paled next to the steak of tawny muscle that rocketed over Front's shoulder and struck the closest tzitzimitl like a wrecking ball, sending the flayed snake demon's frame cracking against the pavement. Where there had been an athletic young woman of conspicuous beauty seconds before there was now a fearsome lioness, feline form layered with sinew, fur and claws all pinning her prey to the street. Where Sekhmet's dark hair had sported a lighter streak, the colouration was not reversed, with a line of black fur over one eye.

Roaring bone shaking fury directly into the hideous face of her opponent, the warrior goddess made it clear that any assumptions of weakness had been folly.

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Y'know, thought Nick as he took position, if I'd woken up this morning knowing I was gonna be fighting to protect Set from getting dragged off to something hideous... I probably would've turned over and vowed never to eat barbecue after midnight. And yet, here I am. About to hit a tzitzimitl in the face. Even by the standards of the trade, this is a new one. 

 

The flow of ectoplasm was thin around Pyramid Plaza, but there was still enough to call balefire to his fingertips. "I know you think you're hot stuff," he said, staring down one of the tzitzimime, "but you've spent waaay too long in Tamoanchan. Can't remember the last solar eclipse we had where you were a regular premise. Once upon a time, you may have been righteous destroyers. Now?" The balefire leaped from his fingers and soared towards the tzitzimitl's face. "Now you're just skeletons clinging to flesh." 

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"You don't have to do this," Fleur reminded the Aztec guardians, even as she drew a handful of her tiny weapons from her pouch. "Tell your masters that Set is a hero now and can't work for them. I'm sure they can find people who are interested, it doesn't have to be him!" As she spoke, she tossed her handful of seeds, sending them scattering across the broken pavement. Everywhere they landed, they sprouted into vines thick as a man's arm,  sprouted and began growing at an enormously rapid pace till the road was nearly obscured. With inerrant accuracy, the vines avoided the heroes, snaking instead around the legs and bodies of the Tzitzimime who had not yet taken to the sky. One managed to roll clear of the encroaching mass of greenery, but her comrades were not so lucky. Soon the strange-looking creatures were engulfed in vines, barely able to move for the moment. 

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Tiamat grinned, her body disappearing in a wash of fire - the supernatural blaze seemed to devour the woman before exploding outward, thinning away to reveal her true form in all its t-rex-sized, crimson-scaled glory.

She launched off the ground with one sweep of mighty wings, roaring in defiance and a powerful clawed hand down onto one of the airborne tzitzimimeh lucky enough to have escaped Fleur's vines. "They've made their choice," the fearsome storybook creature rumbled, tail lashing behind her as she bared her teeth at the snake women. "Perhaps after this they shall learn to choose better masters!"

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The enraged tzitzimimeh writhed inhumanly and as one let out a hiss that rattled hollowly from deep within them. Nearly half of the flock found themselves bound by Fleur's carpet of constricting vines, kept under control for the time being. It was hard to say how long the plants could hold them, however, as a viscous green fluid dripped from their fangs and began eating away at the plant matter.

Nick's target reeled back as she ripped at vines with one hand and spat a stream of the same acidic venom at the necromancer's eyes. Fortunately the distraction of the reaching flora threw off the tzitzimitl's aim, instead carving a trail in the pavement's top coat as it bubbled away.

A trio of the tzitzimimeh who had already been in the air descended upon Tiamat from different angles, biting and clawing at the dragon's hide in retaliation for the attack against their sister. Razor sharp though their attacks were, dragon scales proved the tougher of the two for the time being as the firebreather sustained only superficial albeit painful wounds.

Yet another two of the Aztec demonesses turned their attention to Fleur, flapping leather wings to stay well out of the reach of her plants. Their eyes glowed with sickly light and their rattling hiss took on a rhythmic, hypnotic quality as they attempted to transfix the florakinetic. It had been a long, long time since the Leaguer's first battle with evil, however, and she managed to avert her eyes in time to avoid the charm.

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Gaian Knight swept out an arm; rather than his own stones moving, however, it was that cracked open and hurled a stream of blunt projectiles straight up into one of the tzitzimimeh plaguing Tiamat. It wasn't the best hit, but at this angle and this close to an ally it was more than he'd hoped for. "Really hoping those vines of yours hold, Fleur," he admitted, casting his goggled gaze toward the acid-eaten plants. "I replace and repair this coat enough as it is. Also, I'd be pretty pleased if we didn't die today."

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As the melee erupted about him, Set watched plants spread like wildfire, mythical beasts taking flight and the very earth hurling itself with furious intent. Ducking reflexively the godling paused for a beat at the immensity of the scene before breaking out into raucous laughter that could be heard even over the roaring din of battle. "I had forgotten how exciting this realm was!" the youthful deity crowed, cracking the knuckles of each hand and loosening his shoulders purposefully. "A fitting return for the sovereign of storms!"

Set raised both arms as he spoke and the winds about the battlefield responded to his gesture, whipping up into veritable gale that tugged at Comrade Frost's suit jacket and blew Gaian Knight's coat out behind him. The airborne tzitzimimeh screeched savagely as their wings struggled to keep them in place. While the winds were indiscriminate in their force it was difficult not to notice that they stopped abruptly at the edge of the fighting, keeping the combatants separated from those civilians still in the area, including the news crews who were just beginning to arrive on the scene.

With the clouds overhead darkening again, Set grinned broadly, dreadlocks bouncing about wildly in the wind. Something flashed in his piercing grey eyes, then he pointed a pair of fingers at one the tzitzimimeh that had attempted to mesmerize Fleur. Instantly a bolt of crimson lightning streaked down from the heavens and struck the flayed serpent woman. Electricity crackled against leathery scales and the Aztec demons began returning their attention to their target. "That's right, you lovely maidens! A fight you search for, tis a fight you shall receive, haha!"

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His storms are smaller than they once were. Hmm. 

 

But pointing such things out were deeply declasse in the middle of a fight, so instead Frost went into action. He seemed to dissolve at the others watched, spreading on the wind into a white, whirling bank of icy cold fog with two red eyes in the center of it. "Allow me to CHILL your burning desire for REVENGE!" He floated through the crowd like the touch of death and settled against a pinned tzitzimimeh who thrashed only briefly before before it seemed to freeze solid, an icy sheen growing on it as its now-frigid skin hit the air. There was none of the fancy ice sculptures of more conventional cold controllers, simply a blue-white, stiff sheen over a freezing monster.

 

Frost hmmed, viewing the scene from inside the cloud that was his flesh, and decided to reassure his more squeamish allies. "They do not live! They are no more than demons! Banish them to the realm from which they came!" 

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Neither slithering vines nor violent winds deterred the snarling lioness in the middle of the chaotic melee for even a moment. With a vicious roar that could be heard over the sudden storm, Sekhmet dug her claws into the vines holding her initial target literally rooted to the street and bit down on the tzitzimitl's throat with a set of glistening fangs that would be the envy of any mundane carnivore. With a jerk the feline goddess ripped scaly flesh away from her prey's flayed face, lending credence to Frost's shout as not blood put a shimmering silicate dust poured from the gaping wound to blow away into the whipping winds.

 

With a choked rattle the rest of the Aztec demoness collapsed into powered crystal within her plant prison, eliciting an chorus of enraged hisses from her sisters but Sekhmet was already lunging again, lithe muscle forcing past the storm's fury to carry her to the tzitzimitl Nick Cimitiere had attacked with baleful flames. Claw tore into this target as well, slicing though some of the pinned back skin about the creature's mouth so that the remainder flapped out horribly. The primal sound of challenge from the lioness made it clear to the mystics on the scene that however diminished her power might have become in her journey to the mortal realm, her battlelust remained wholly intact.

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Welp. Set may be improving, but he's still one to put his own grandeur above keeping everyone else's aim steady. 

 

Nick tried to keep track of the chaos amongst the rising storm, but it was a bit hard given the rising winds and flashing lightning. He could probably get a precise bead with the phantom fire if he focused, but there was still a chance of hitting someone directly engaged with one of the tzitzimitl. So, it was time to throw precision out the window. The good news about calling on the rage of poltergeists was that it knew just how to grasp at its targets, and at least had a basic idea of who the targets were. So it was fairly easy to pick the snake women out of the crowd. And when the phantasmal arms sprung up from the earth and reached towards them, aiming to drag them down, they were able to surge through the storm and at least establish contact. 

 

"Working on it. Anyone want to get a hand in on the banishing, I've got a bunch of 'em down." 

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With the first rush of battle over, Fleur had time to catch a breath and take a look at what was actually going on. Even with the great diversity of talent and the fact that many of the heroes present were strangers or near-strangers, things seemed to be going pretty well. She made sure to keep her gaze averted from the Tzitzimitl, but the Aztec guardians had bigger fish to fry by now. "Great work, everyone!" she called out, loudly enough to be heard by nearly the entire group. "We'll have this all wrapped up in no time! Nobody's getting kidnapped in Freedom City today! Keep pressing them in towards the ground and away from the buildings!" 

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Tiamat shook off her attackers like a great beast beset by rats and surged forward on leathery wings, banking sharply around as soon as she had distance from the offending, if comparatively undersized, claws and teeth.

This, however, was no retreat. The dragon's chest visibly expanded as she turned her head back around toward her enemies; jaws filled with countless pointed teeth opened wide to release a torrent of brilliant fire, a roaring cone of immolation that was, unfortunately, somewhat hampered by the raging winds.

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Set's winds might have harried Tiamat's flames a bit, but the god of chaos took note of the dragon's scorching display and with a toothy grin made a small gesture in her direction, rotating his wrist casually. As he did the rolling fire turned ever so slightly to wrap around one of the tzitzimitl who had almost avoided the worst of the blaze so that the demoness instead took the brunt of the blaze's damage. The surprised screech that resulted drew a laugh from the diminutive deity, brick red dreadlocks blown backward into a mane.

There was no question which way the tide of battle had turned as the bulk of the winged Aztec warriors either reeling at the force of the heroes' attacks or struggling futilely against ghostly hands or constricting vines, fangs and acid only doing so much against their prisons. The tzitzimitl who Tiamat had first charged recovered enough to whip her head around and shoot a stream of putrescent venom that splashed across the dragon's scales with a bubbling hiss.

The demoness who had been struck by Set's lightning let loose a deep rattling noise from deep in her chest as she lunged through the storm to swipe at him with a terrible clawed hand. Ducking and rolling with not inconsiderable grace, he hopped back to his feet at the ready. "Ho! I think not!" he laughed challengingly. "And that would be 'no one shall be godnapped', surely?"

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The stream of earth that Gaian Knight had sent upwards hung still in the air as wind and fire and death and claw raged below; its master stood with his coat blowing in the wind, one hand still raised as goggled eyes scanned across the combatants. He was patient, if nothing else - but when a target presented itself the hand came down, a rain of rocks following the gesture and crashing down into one of the nabbed fliers.

"You do look pretty young," Gaian Knight pointed out, already shifting his attention back across the battle as his attack curved away before it could hit the ground from which it came. "'Kidnapping' is probably appropriate."

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Gaian Knight's rocky projectiles scythed through their target, trailing the same crystalline dust Sekhmet's bite had revealed behind them before the entire tzitzimitl crumbled into more of the same, blowing away into the winds.

"One assumes godhood takes precedence!" Set protested, spinning about theatrically and stabbing a pair of fingers into the air toward another of the tzitzimitl circling Tiamat. A clap of thunder accompanied the lance of unnaturally crimson electricity that raced across the snake-woman's flayed flesh, causing the demoness the convulse uncontrollably. Cupping his other hand to the side of his mouth, Set called up to the dragon, "Am I yet closer to earning your favour, then, oh resplendent ruby?"

Sweeping the pointing hand across his torso without bothering to even look, the godling brought another bolt of lightning down on the tzitzimitl Comrade Frost had frozen solid. The force of the elemental attack shattered the brittle creature, sending glittering dust, shards of ice and frostbitten vine cascading outward. "Nor have your valiant deeds gone unnoticed, my very cool friend!" he promised the draugr with a broad wink and renewed laughter.

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"Do not think me cold to your offers of friendship," said Frost as he floated away from the disintegrating remains of the demon-snake-woman, reaching out casually with a passing limb to brush across the skin of another foul beast, ice erupting from its body as it howled and writhed beneath his touch. This was by no means his first action, and the battle was, so far, going well enough. He decided to restrict his targets to those not already bound by Fleur's plants, the better to make sure the enemies he defeated were actually enemies.

 

"But let us save that for when we have frozen the plans of these foul beasts in their tracks." His icy laughter rang cheerfully as his icy body overran another pinned snake fiend - this one made the mistake of opening its mouth and inhaling, letting him pour inside and freeze it from the inside out! With a sound like cracking ice, it fell apart, all at once, into many parts. He drifted away from falling fragments of demon flesh, still laughing. "You must learn patience. Young fellow." He laughed again, a sound like falling icicles against concrete. 

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"Ahaha! 'Frozen'!" Set crowed appreciatively, hopping back a few more paces from the closest tzitzimitl while he had the opportunity. "Sekhmet!" he called, hands cupped around his mouth, "I think tis going quite well, yes?"

The divine lioness raised her head from her work momentarily to glare in the godling's direction, bits of ripped material that might as easily have been tattered fabric or scaly flesh hanging from her jaws. "Rrrrr... He is mocking you, fool," she snarled disdainfully before refocusing on the demoness beneath her claws, slashing away with abandon.

Set himself sniffed and adjusted an ornate gold bracelet on his arm. "Yes, well. Tis not mutually exclusive!" he asserted, casting about for another target amidst the howling winds. "No such thing as bad attention, hm?"

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