Owner	Pose
Rachel Roth	It's not every day that rumors spread of a demonic cult operating out of an abandoned community center. Or maybe it is. Who can tell? Those are some really niche rumors and you shouldn't worry yourself overlong about how they might spread or how they reached the ears of a half-demon sorceress, her alien friend, a goth runaway with her own cult issues, or a multiversal powerhouse. Though really, Ms. Chavez and everyone's favorite redheaded alien nobility had an unfair advantage on hearing the rumor. Well, they don't get the boring details about buildups of mana and warping of ley lines and demonic presence and stuff. They get the demonic presence of Rachel Roth leaning in their respective Titans dorm room doors and going "We have work to do. Punching work." The punching work is, of course, for the two super-powered badass ladies. Rachel? Rachel's not going to punch anyone. She is, after all, providing transportation, which is very important. This is not just an excuse for Rachel to have the decidedly more 'seemingly invulnerable' friends reveal what magical mischief might be afoot. It's more of a precaution in case there are werewolves or something. There've never been werewolves at one of these demonic cult things. But the one time you don't expect them? Bam. Werewolves. But as Raven uses her Vast Magickal Powers to let the Titanic trio appear a couple of blocks away from Herman R. Melville Community Center, there is no sign of werewolves, not even of vampires. Not even some guy in a Thriller jacket. Lots of seemingly suburban actively involved community members are heading into the community center like it's a bakesale for the soccer team or whatever it is people do bake sales for nowadays. Which leads to Rachel's lips pressing into a thin line, brow furrowing. "We need proof of evil activity, yes? You can't just... punch or starbolt the building on principle?" That was a joke. Probably. Probably a joke. She's not actually that uncaring about 'people'.
Nico Minoru	NICO MINORU, who is definitely PUNK ROCK because she has a DISABILITY and is QUEER, looks over abruptly from her current position. WHERE IS NICO MINORU? She is in the parking lot of the abandoned community center. Which she drove to. In a 1989 Buick that has been subjected to a very carefully and begrudgingly-positioned magical spell that has made it sit with a half-full gas tank for the last 600 or so miles of actual driving. It also has expired plates and is known to the NYPD, even if it, mysteriously, performs better when Nico hates the cops. Nico had just turned off the engine when she felt a tickle of magic in the air. Her first thought is to look towards the community center. "No, no," she mutters to herself. "Think this through. So this is one of three things, Nico. One, it's completely unconnected in which case you should just be cool for a couple of minutes as events develop." She watches some completely ordinary people start filing into the community center. The bile and choler within Nico stir, uneasily. Her eyes narrow at one particular perfectly-coiffed blonde PTA-type member who is eating a carefully curated seven crackers to keep her metabolism optimized for maximum weight management. "Two," Nico mutters to herself, "they did something and it missed in which case there'd be more screaming or something, because I certainly don't see any dragons or demons or anything. And three --" Nico turns her head. Her eyes widen slightly as she sees the small and distinctive group of people oh-so-far-away. "-- I'm not alone." Nico is silent for several seconds. One of the filing-by ordinary suburbanites gives her a suspicious look, but keeps moving, perhaps assuming she is lost or someone's daughter having a Phase. Carefully, Nico leans over to roll down the passenger-side window - yes, with a SPINNY CRANK, like a CAVEWOMAN - and begins to look urgently in the direction of the new arrivals. "psst!" she psst's, despite it being way too far to actually hear.
America Chavez	''We have work to do. Punching work.'' This is America Chavez, currently leaning her chair back until the front legs hang in the air, sneakered feet resting comfortably on her desk, peering blandly at Rachel "Raven" Roth. One hand is tucked behind her head. The other is throwing a baseball intermittently into a big star-shaped portal hanging out on her ceiling. Every five seconds exactly, it comes flying back to her waiting hand with a dangerous little -=THOOM=- of impact. A bit of dust kicks up and papers and other looser lighter objects rustle and shake every time. America stares at Rachel with that disaffected brown-eyed stare and hurls the ball back into the portal. One, two, three, four-- "Say--" -=THOOM=- "--please." She offers a winning smile.                                     ==*                                     America Chavez is willing to wait a distressingly long time for polite affirmation even with the looming risk of evil to punch. Eventually, though, she does end up tagging along. Punching is its own pleasure (as is making Rachel say please), and she didn't even have to be the teleport taxi on this occasion. Less work for her, more energy for punching. What's not to like? And so, America emerges from the wash of shadows dressed in a red-and-white striped crock tank, a blue jacket spangled with stars down the sleeves, a pair of black short shorts and star-spangled sneakers, in the most dramatic way she feels possible: Slurping on a slushie, staring at the extremely innocuous building with a furrowed brow, lips pursing around her straw. They need proof of evil activities. Yes? "I guess," is America's flat response. "If you want to be boring." She's also kidding. More definitely than probably. It's just... ... so hard to tell. What she is serious about is the way she has every intention of just walking towards the community center with every intention of just entering through the front door without so much as a blink or a careful consideration about subtlety. Tragically, she doesn't seem to hear Nico before she starts marching, potentially ruining all her hard stakeout work in the process.
Koriand'r	Just once, Starfire would like to encounter a werewolf. It would be novel! It may even be cute: she is well aware, after all, of the tendency of fantasy media to depict unusual things as scarier, more Other than they perhaps might be in real life. She wants to believe; she wants to live in a world in which there are werewolves worthy of hugging. Failing that, she would gladly settle for a chance to kick the shit out of a werewolf, because - again - it would be novel. And it would ''probably'' be dangerous, and danger means excitement. And who doesn't love getting excited with their friends? Appearing a few feet above the ground, Starfire begins to take off towards the Community Center-- Sizzling orange trails burn through the air when she abruptly whips her head towards Raven, eyes wide. She glances towards America, briefly, before going back to Raven-- "-- We can't, can we? Would it be unsafe--?" America doesn't stick around to answer. In a way, this is an answer in and of itself, because it sets her racing t-- Oh! -- there's a car, just, ''hanging out''; watching? Loitering? She ponders for a few moments, squinting down at it-- -- and after another, she's settling into a steady hover just a couple feet from that rolled down window. Touching down, she bends to poke her head ''just'' through the window, wave, and offer, "Hello! I'm sorry, but I would really suggest leaving, as soon as possible, because otherwise, you may find yourself in the middle of a dangerous metahuman engagement," to Nico, draping her arms over the sill after the wave. "If you like, I can go with you for a couple of blocks, to make sure that you're as safe as you can be-- oh-- "-- huh--" comes with a squint as her attention shifts towards Nico's left side. Beat. "... that is a ''beautiful'' gauntlet," she finally tells the punk witch.
Rachel Roth	NICO MINORU and the GOTHMOBILE would get more attention from Rachel if Rachel knew anything about cars beyond 'So you drive your car at the big soccer ball?' from a time she watched Gar and Victor playing Rocket League. Or if she had some sort of cybernetic link to the NYPD's vehicle database. Also if she wasn't focused so very completely on her ELDRITCH SENSES which are definitely not her second guessing her hunch, because... there are a lot of very hipster looking people filing into that community center. Maybe it really _is_ a bake sale. Maybe she's just picking up background magic radiation, that's a thing, right? Maybe a Ghost Rider did something around here last week and now it's just lingering, like egg salad for the soul. Really, Rachel's thinking this entire plan (What plan?) was a bad idea. For one thing, now she has to say /please/ to America at some point. And probably a 'thank you' or five. Uggggh. And then Kori's just... reacting to Nico's 'pspspsps' like a cat and... well, she's not going to complain! Because Rachel has a plan. A great plan. A plan so cunning you could pin a tail on it and call it a fox. She descends in the wake of Kori's eager, energetic comet-like streak down. "Oh! See? This is perfect. This totally uninvolved upstanding citizen can walk into the community center. And if it is a bake sale, she can purchase treats." Rachel touches down with a moderate amount of impressive cloak billowing, her arms crossing sternly. "And if they are a cult of demon-worshipping lunatics, they'll... probably try to sacrifice her. To the demons." She pauses for a long moment, head tilting to the side. "And I will sense the magic building to summon the demon... or demons. And we can rescue her. Heroically." Rachel turns to inquire about America's view on this plan, only to find... America is dozens of paces away, marching towards the Evil Community Center. Which is when the heavy metal double doors are thrown from their hinges as a mixture of what look like Hipster PTA attendees, demons, and guys who could pass for Hipster PTA Attendees if they still had their sweaters on and weren't revealing esoteric ritual tattoos on shockingly muscular torsos. Really, just once, Rachel's going to find a cult full of D&D enthusiasts or something. But not today, as what must be one of the Evil PTA's leaders bellows "GET HER! THE DAEMONCHYLDE!!!" Which leads to Rachel staring at Nico deadpan for a moment. "He must mean you."
Nico Minoru	"Oh, uh," Nico falters as Koriand'r comes forth and looks right at her while being cheerful and being in her car. "Uh, haha, well, I mean i figured, and, oh, you think so?" Nico raises up the WITCH ARM and curls and uncurls fingers. "... Do you want to touch it?" She holds it out to Kori. While it's metal, it's also... body-warm. "Uh, hi," Nico says to Raven, more flatly. "Nice cloak. What are you doing now? I'm here because the cards led me here, why are you here? How did you get here exactly?" She cranes her head a little to look towards America, who isn't helping Nico in dealing with the increasing density of Girl Feelings in the area. And then, there is an explosion! Revealed are a bunch of hipsters, demons, and demon hipsters! Nico's head swivels as she says, "Oh shit," before looking back to Raven and saying, "You! Backseat!" NICO MINORU'S NUMEROUS DEMONIC TRAITS: * Definitely not white especially since this isn't California * Magimechanical robot arm * Haircut (definitely not conventional) * Makeup (insufficiently appealing to Roxxon News's standards for feminine beauty) "Get in!" Nico says, starting up the Buick's engine again. She immediately reverses, flicking the headlights threatening at the approaching horde of cultistas. At the appropriate time, she will execute a J-turn and attempt to drive off at a high rate of speed.
America Chavez	Not even Koriand'r being adorably protective or Rachel being adorably(?) sacrificial can distract America right now. She is officially in Work Mode. And part of Work Mode means being unswayed by an admittedly very cute Good Cop Bad Cop routine on someone who doesn't have it coming(?). No, the vagabond from outside space and time just walks -right- up to those doors, slowly rolls her neck with a series of little krk-krk-kraks, takes one last slurp of her smoothie, reaches out -- And finds herself with a sudden, faceful of door. "What the F--" SPLOOSH This is the strange sound that accompanies America as she's knocked skyward by sudden facetime with a body-length amount of steel. And as she stops in mid-air -- as she SEIZES the offending door and -whips- it aside, still clutched in the tight snare of her hand, the reason for that strange sound becomes readily apparent: America Chavez, floating three feet in the air, has her entire front plastered with peach smooth, drip-drip-dropping in creamy-thick droplets off her chin and also like basically every other part of her face and upper body. "..." America clenches that door like someone might clench their favorite sword. Her eyes narrow. "Estas muerto." And this is about when she just -swings- that entire door right into the teaming horde of demon hipsters and creatures clearly the result of the PTA disbanding with a huge, bony, -=WHA-CRACKOOM=- of impact, sending dozens of them flying through the air with one mighty, pissed off swing. Her head darts to look over her shoulder and see where Raven and Starfire are -- only to see that car peeling out onto the street. Brown eyes narrow. And, the horde pouring out and advancing on them, Nico will find a very star-spangled multiversal latina landing on the trunk of her car with a disconcertingly metallic CRUNCHing sound. "PRETTY SURE I JUST FOUND OUT THESE BITCHES ARE EVIL," America Chavez helpfully yells directly at Raven. "SAY THANKS."
Koriand'r	Koriand'r does want to touch it. "... ooh, it ''feels'' like you--" A slight pause; a brisk shift, to graze the back of her hand against Nico's brow, just to be sure. "Yes!" she then chirps. "''Just'' like--" Alas: there is an explosion. And that means that the danger... is UPON THEM. (And that in turn means that there are asses in need of kicking; all in all, a pretty good balance, even if she is STILL concerned about the cute/thoughtful goth girl and her curiously warm arm--) "Take cover!" tails behind her as she rockets into the air to give herself a better vantage of the incoming hordes, for a moment. The next is filled with raw, luminous violence as Starfire dives into a strafing run, dipping until she's just a dozen or so feet above the infernal tide before unleashing burst after burst of green starbolts into their midst! They're mostly concussive, this time, because she does not want to worry about pulling targets ''or'' burning holes through people who might - potentially - still be ''people''. "Thank you, America!" she manages to shout over the violence.
Rachel Roth	Rachel sighs, glowers even at Nico... which, it's possible Kori and America will pick up as the look Raven gives those she thinks she'll like. A rare and esteemed group. And in a brief moment of all too human amusement, Rachel finds herself having to hold back from proclaiming 'Phrasing!' at Nico's offer to Kori to touc her arm. "Oh, you know how it is. We've been hired by an evil land developer who wants to build a-" BOOM! BANG! DEMONS AND CULTISTS! Rachel could probably like... shadowstep or teleport or do something cool to get into Nico's car, but instead she just opens the back driver's side door to pile in. Reminding herself it is impolite to be sad that this goth girl does not drive retro fitted 1950s ambulance. Once she's piled in, Raven's proceeding to try and lean out the window in classic action movie style, which is ACTUALLY VERY TRICKY with a cloak. And while her hands are moving in complex arcane motions, her gaze is balefully levelled at America. "I am not saying thanks. They spilled a drink on you. You were going to punch them anyway." And then Kori's rocketing up into the sky and Rachel's peering back over her shoulder at Nico, "Uhhh... drive... /out/ of town I guess? I don't think they've got a portal open or anything, so... yeah, we just... uhhh... outrun them. Outrun the demons. In your magic car." It doesn't seem /functionally/ magical, like a Ghost Rider thing... but hey, Rachel's not going to judge a book by its cover. This is a lie, Rachel judges books by their covers all the time, especially the back where you can read the synopsis. It's not cheating, kids. It's efficiency!
Nico Minoru	Nico says, "Haha, well," at Kori's reaction, but then: (DEMON HIPSTER SHIT HAPPENS HERE) "Fuck!" Nico swears, which is ANOTHER point in her disfavor/proof of Hellspawned damnation. She saw America get splattered, but -- she's -- recovering, and Nico updates her mental map of reality even as America lands on the trunk, jerking the front end of the car upwards. This briefly daunts some of the more human people. "THANK YOU," she calls even as Starfire bursts into magical fire. "She can do that?" Nico mutters, even as Raven invites herself into the car. Once the door shuts, she slams the gas pedal and accelerates forwards. A demon with the classical goat legs and differnet-kind-of-classical boiled pink skin gets struck with the front end of the Buick, followed by some horrible squealing and a CRUNCH which turns out to be the demon, not the car. Nico shifts into second while accelerating over the median and into the oncoming road away from the location, even as there is shrieking and screeching. And the sound of cars starting. (Some of them are T*slas, so they don't make engine noises. Fun fact! That's true of all EVs, including the good ones!) "Okay, your lack of certainty on the portal thing is puzzling me," Nico says, half-shouts really. She rolls down the window so she can sort of half-lean out and shout to America, "ARE YOU OK?" After this there is someone actually in that lane who honks their horn, requiring Nico to jump the grassy divider thingy between them and get in the actual right direction. Several cars boil out in the distant rear view. "So I guess the problem here is twofold, which, I guess you'd probably know since I'm sure you read the map and everything," Nico continues to narrate, mostly to Raven who is right there, "which is, one, I don't think this actually addresses the issue even if obviously it is not a 'good' thing from the perspective of the evil demon CULT!" Nico ducks, involuntarily, as a green belch of flame manages to hit (and put out) the right tail-light of the Buick. Nico answers this by immediately veering right. "Okay it's threefold," Nico says. "The first is that this entire stupid subdevelopment is like a horrible tumor if I read the maps right - there's like, ONE on ramp into the highway and everything else is surface streets with a strict speed limit and the THIRD problem is --" Ahead of them is a construction fence. The Nico-Mobile smashes through the gate, revealing -- a decrepit mall, with a big sign declaring that soon, an open air shopping plaza with apartments (starting at $700,000) will be present, estimated opening in 2029, brought to you by ROXX-- The sign falls out of frame as she wheels to the side to take advantage of the big and almost-entirely-empty parking lot with just the occasional construction vehicle. "That it's on the other side of this ugly-ass mall!" It really is pretty ugly, at least from the outside. "So who are you people anyway!?"
America Chavez	A baleful stare is met with a poker-faced one in turn. It's a tense stand-off that lasts right up until the point Kori swoops by to express her gratitude in Raven's stead. Nico follows soon after, like a domino effect. America jerks a thumb the punkwitch and the Tamaranean princess' way. "That counts," she claims, just, -utterly bald-faced-. And then she blows the pair a kiss. Just to say 'thanks.' However -- with the car on the run, America is at least thoughtful enough to -not- leverage all of this gratitude to blatantly peer pressure Rachel over it (yet; she'll get DIRECT GRATITUDE from Raven eventually, mark her words--); instead, she tracks Kori's flight with that intense gaze of hers, even as Nico's shout reaches her ears. Is she okay? A dangerous smile crosses typically apathetic lips. "BETTER THAN THEY'RE GONNA BE, CHICA." And with that, America SPRINGS up off the trunk again, joining Koriand'r in mid-air as the squeal of cars (demonic cars?? well some of them ARE teslas--) join the chorus of the chase. She looks sidelong at Koriand'r. Tips her head in those cars' direction. "Sup, sparklefists," she says, as coolly as ever. "I set 'em up, you knock 'em down?" And what she means soon becomes apparent as the stars at her jacket sleeve, tattooed on the inside of her wrists, and dangling from her ears all start to glow a brilliant cerulean blue. They're joined by that intense gaze of hers as a big, -big- star portal, large enough to accommodate a car, manifests in the air beside her, several feet from Kori. And here, America -smashes- that portal... ... just in time for the second to spawn -directly- beneath a swath of those pursuing demons like a pit trap. A good half a dozen fiends and two cars are all caught, falling directly into that portal and pouring out of the sky beside America seconds later -- Sitting ducks for Kory 'Sparklefists' Anders to knock down. She'll let Raven answer Nico's question. Portal making and violence requires a lot of concentration, after all.
Koriand'r	Some of the demons just drop. Some hardly respond. At least one responds by getting twice as big; another splinters into a shower of flies with scorpion tails. The cultists go down easily enough, sure, but the rest? Problematic. The boiling tide of fiends and fiend stans only seems to be growing, no matter how many of them do go down. Between this, and her friends speeding away, Starfire elects to make a sharp turn towards following them instead of going for another pass-- and angles sharply upwards to boot. Being gentle is not an option, here, and part of Kori-- -- down deep, but only ''just'', after all the years she's spent acclimating to this planet-- -- part of her is '''glad'''. '''Especially''' now that there's an entire swarm scorpion-tailed of abominations breaking from the pack to follow her, a thousand blasphemies chittering from their lips and growing fractionally louder with each moment of the chase. She's ''fast'', and while she's got plenty of distance on them, somehow the frenetic beat of those tiny wings is enough to to keep the swarm slowly, but steadily gaining on the alien princess. No kisses are returned, because not learning what's in those tails trumps politeness; even the greeting that comes when Ms. Chavez explodes skywards to arrive by her side only gets a fleeting look and smile in return before her eyes fix forward again. She trusts her fellow princess to understand. Especially once the door is opened for the two of them to speak their common language, bubbling with infinite potential from each of its five points. The incessant buzzing and chittering encroach on deafening as the black cloud comes within inches of grazing the orange alien's flesh; sucking in a deep breath, Starfire narrows her eyes, thrusts her fists forward, and paints the world in fire-tones as her hair fades into a rippling, superheated shimmer trailing a dozen or so feet behind her like a burning ribbon while she races as high as she possibly can. Races until the second door opens-- -- and she finally has an opportunity to '''stop'''. And throw her arms wide. And allow a broad, wild smile to touch her lips, green fire pouring from her eyes a split second before it '''explodes''' from the rest of her. Vivid green energies arcing along her limb shift on a dime, fulminating into a blinding explosion of solar-fueled fury extending out for several feet all around her. Just as it comes within inches of burning through the space America is (was?) occupying, the explosion collapses in on itself-- winks out of existence, leaving radiant heat that will surely linger in the air and around Kory herself for a few minutes, even as the warrior-princess' hair rapidly settles back into its usual lush, but distinctly '''not''' burning mass of curls and waves and she begins plummeting, roughly conscious but temporarily ennervated.
Rachel Roth	Rachel sighs out and through her vast, impressive willpower, honed by YEARS of fighting off DEMONIC URGES, her eyes only kind of roll at Nico's reaction to Kori's amazing display. It's not Nico's fault of course. Everyone's amazed by Starfire. If anything, that eyeroll is because Rachel sees some of herself in Nico. Mostly the goth aesthetic, really. Rachel doesn't drive. Stick or automatic. But she does do magic. Magic that after a complex series of arcane gestures and seemingly sullenly mumbled arcane phrases, send bolts of shadow leaping out to strike and envelope streetlights and lamp posts. And once those bits and bobs of scenery are enchanted, they're flung with vicious force to do powerful but non-lethal injury to cultists! Because Rachel is a hero and her hero insurance or whatever says no killing. She glances over her shoulder and _glares_ at Nico for a moment, "Well, demonic portals are tricky things. On one hand? Demons. They had to get here somehow. On the other hand, the community center hasn't collapsed into the bowels of the Earth to send /bigger/ demons roiling out... so... no portal. Probably those demons are just possessions." And Nico's got a point. Kori and America are handling the swarms of demons and cultists easily enough, but sometimes it's better to regroup and replan or whatever! Lips press into a thin line as Rachel turns about to peer out the /front/ of the Buick and lean over Nico's shoulder, eyes scanning, and pointing to a solid concrete wall that's... fairly far away? "Okay. Drive there. We're going to... whatever Robin says when he means 'Run away and deal with this later'. But it sounds all smart and strategic. Also, you don't need to get this thing up to 88 or anything... just... aim for the darkness." What darkness? The OMINOUS VOID THAT DRINKS IN ALL LIGHT. Really, one day Rachel's going to figure out how to summon a big friendly bunny rabbit sign for her portals. But not today, because she's got to crane her head to yell out the window, "KORI! GET YOUR BUTT ON THE CAR!" Should she have been less literal? Maybe. But it's been forever and a day since Rachel's actually done this whole costumed heroics thing. She is, apparently, a little rusty. Which is sure to put her in a great mood. "Oh! We're the Titans. I think you're one of us now." Rachel's not actually sure how recruitment works.