18852/HUNGER: Asia

HUNGER: Asia
Date of Scene:	31 August 2024
Location:	Marina Bay Sands, Singapore
Synopsis:	The Justice League Dark travels to Asia to see what might be happening there. What they find isn't overly illuminating outside of showing them that cultists are stupid, but some more stupid than others. Mary had a good meal and shared a little soul with Satana. Juggernaught clapped his way into a win. Caleb might be feeling the waters rising a little too high and Rick managed pretty well for a man that's not even fifty yet while John starts to believe that maybe they are a team.
Cast of Characters:	John Constantine, Satana Hellstrom, Caleb Dykstra, Mary Seward, Cain Marko, Richard Stadler
Tinyplot:	Hunger

---

John Constantine has posed:
The night the Herald revealed himself in Times Square, several other locations indicated that something had hit earth from the cosmos. One of them was Asia. Just what was it? Well, it had to be related to the looming threat of a planet eating wanker making a direct path to Earth. Was it some sort of beacon so that Galactus could stay on the most direct path? Was it some sort of weapon the Heralds could use to make sure the path was clear for their overlord? Or was it simply a whole lot of space condiments so that Earth would be more of a delicacy than John Constantine believes it to be? The planet blows bollocks, but it's John's home so he'd very much like to make certain that whatever it was - it's handled.

He's been keeping an eye on things - or more to the point The House of Mystery has been keeping an eye on things. While she doesn't really communicate with John verbally unless there's something to do with some sort of involved process with Tibetan singling bowls, she does have other ways.

It was about an hour ago that the giant glove in the library began spinning on its axis as if it was going to spin right on off and fly into space itself. When it stop, the longitude and latitude markers on the globe were centered squarely on Singapore.

An hour ago, John put out word that it was time to go.

When those that heeded the call arrived, it was only a matter of seconds in the house of Creeps and Giggles before a portal opened that dropped them right into the center of the Marina Bay Sands - a huge tourist trap that also happened to be home to some of Asia's finest tech companies - those that rivaled the likes of Stark Industries.

It's probably /not/ one of those tech companies that's causing the giant, swirling, terrifying look 'whirpool' in the side with the clouds seem to be sucked up rather than spinning down. Inverse tornado.

John pauses just outside the portal, waiting for the others to follow. He lights a Silk Cut, looks up toward the sky and says, "Looks like the place, ey? When the top of one of the taller buildings right beneath the inverse tornado gets ripped from the rest of the structure and sucked upward, he adds, "First time I've ever seen one of those what seems to be pulling Upstairs rather than down."

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
Satana Hellstromhas arrived over in style - a bodysuit made out of mystical fishnets. "Shame we don't have time for the beach." She would gaze up at the sky, following the explanation given by John, watching along curiously while heading along with the rest. Her eyes look out very carefully, and then her hands go over to start to work on a specific type of scrying, and a more unusual one than would be cast in many tomes.

It's an invocation seeking power. Not magical power.. Just the radiance of it. Specifically designed to not sweep for magic in any sense. John has that well in hand; and she'd rather not bother. From Satana's head sprout a full pair of horns, and a barbed tail would lash behind her as she moves to continue with her scrying.

The demoness is focused, even as she sees where the biggest charge is coming from. Because that's where the entertaining thing that they're all after will be after all.

And she has plans for it. Very, very specific plans.

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
Dressed in full gear, he comes out of the portal adjusting his gloves.

He looks at the inverted tornado, "I remember the demon we consuilted saying something about the elements, how every Herald seemed to be specific to one." He narrows his eyes, "Judging by this, I guess this would be 'air'."

He looks at Satana, whom he doesn't recall. A near-mute "Hey" is said, with a momentary wave, and he looks back to the anomaly in question. And takes a deep breath, "I guess we could use the flyers, here."

Mary Seward has posed:
The last time Mary agreed to help out John with figuring out more about the Galactus crisis, she had to go on a murky and messy trip through the Florida everglades. Dealing with killer bugs, a swamp witch, and a mental bombardment by the fearsome Man-Thing. An unpleasant experience for her. A regrettable one in it.

Yet, it seemed she was still in for the long haul on this issue. After all, it was either putting up with Constantine's shenanigans or the end of the world, with her along with it. So, it seemed that she had little choice in the matter. She justified her decision to go on another one of these globe-trotting adventures that a beachfront property in China was bound to be more pleasant than Florida swamp. Time will tell if that would be true.

She walks in between John and Satana, her own crimson red gown blowing against the wind. "These space people really don't have a word for subtle, huh?"

Cain Marko has posed:
Not to far away ..another portal begins to open.

This one beginning as a small pinprick of red like someone had simply dropped a dot of red dye into the air which then begin slowly spreading and then whirling about. It's as if a splotch of crimson ink blotted onto he surface of a whirlpool..widening up more and more and until finally a complete portal had finally opened up - a spinning maelstrom of ruby red big enough to drive a semi truck through and crackling into a distant void wreathed with red lightning and additional swirling clouds of both ebony and red.

Through this portal strides one Cain Marko. The Juggernaut. His vastness filling up the fullness of the breach in space-time despite its own size, lumbering through - a semi truck unto himself, as he steps his hugely muscled body into the area and settles his first step upon this world for some days now. His helmet is off, revealing the tossled long mess that is his signature red hair, thick unshaven hair about his chin and mouth and keen blue eyes that sweep over the area as the earth shakes from the foot falls of his arrival. Though hsi helmet is off ... the armor of the Avatar of Cyttorak, armbands and knuckle dusters included, frame his torso. That, coupled with his expanded dimensions and size, and monstrous physique should make it clear he's here on business.

Days have passed since the 'incident' in Thailand ..but the behemoth - despite the disheveled look of his hair - appears focused and stable...and as he surveys the area he sees both the larger disturbance - and the portal where stands a certain John Constantine and the party arriving with him.

The Juggernaut looks long at them..and then finally turns and begins a slow inexorable approach. Low heavy *TOOMS* accomanying each of his steps an announcing his approach well in advance with the rumbling of the ground.

Richard Stadler has posed:
     Rick supposed that the upshot to a lot of these things was only having to drive to somewhere in New York to end up going halfway around the world, but he was still going to grouse about it. Along with seeing the electic group of the magically inclined ready to go... and a bit of a l ook over to Satana. Just how many deals with the devil does one man make in a lifetime? "Never liked how easy this stuff is. Used to be a miracle if you could get a reaction force to a place within 24 hours. And I'm going to guess this is the sort of... international vigilantism that doesn't stop by customs and show the passports first."

It's a familiar grouse. Something to say and prattle on because it was something he could at least control. It... was a bit questionable how he managed to get a set of Singapore Army BDUs on such short notice, but anything that would keep the officials guessing for enough time for them to react. React to what?

Rick was looking up to the whirlpool that seemed to suck things up from the dense city, looking down to the rifle that he held in his hands. "I don't think this is something shooting is going to handle. Or, at least, I don't see a target yet."

John Constantine has posed:
Indeed John has that well in hand, but the moment he reaches out to get a feel for the mystical energy in the area - he immediately slams the lid down on that endeavor. The Power Cosmic isn't something anyone wants to get a full on feel. Not even Satana. She'll feel it, the immense power. She'll feel it to the point that it nearly knocks her off her feet. There's nothing, not in Heaven or Hell, that she or John Constantine has run across that matches the power of a Herald. "I think this is their subtle, luv," he replies to Mary - Queen of Vampires

But it's a power John's felt before. It's that power, it's the reason John has taken this so seriously, put in so much effort to pull the puzzle pieces together. It's why he's calling in every single powered being he knows - no matter their friend or enemy or frenemy status with him. It's the first time he's ever really thought that Earth might lose. Not that he'll admit it.

"Bolocks, this is another of the wanker's be bloody messengers at work!" He yells, he yells because sounds of the wind has grown to nearly making it impossible to hear beyond just since they stepped from the house. "Doesn't seem this one's as pleasant as the bloke sent to us! Maybe he doesn't like sushi! Can't right blame'm for that, prefer my fish fried with some chips!"

With a force that makes the ground at their feet tremble - or was that just Cain? Maybe both? - that inverse tornado suddenly seems to figure out the way it's /supposed/ to be moving. In a blink the building missing half its top is turned to nothing but rubble - flying debris spirals outward from ground zero, causing things to become just a wee bit dicey for the team.

John's quick like a gunslinger with firing off simple spells, spells like protections and shields. It doesn't even take a word, merely a thought and he's tossed one up around the team - but did he get it up in time? He doesn't get nailed by anything anyway.

And he still has his cigarette dangling between his lips. How does he /do that/? It's a magical skill on on its own, really. "Don't think there's anything we can do about that, mate!" John yells over to Caleb. "But we can do something about that!" Now he plucks the cigarette from his lips. How is that thing not just getting ripped from his fingers by the buffeting winds? He uses it to point in the direction of the area's most renowned hotel. Atop it, a group of figures clad in billowing robes, the silver color one might associate with wind, is actually tossing people off the top of the hotel and into the swirling windstorm for them to be lifted and then drop down into the churning waters below. "How do you feel about flyin', Ricky?!"

He holds his hand out to Satana - they've worked gigs in the past, she'll get it. What he's about to do, he can't do on his own - he'll need her assistance, at least a pit of her power. Normally, he might be able to control the winds to lift them all topside - but with forces such as these already working the winds? He's going to need help. Once she's taken his hand, he begins to chant under his breath - to those that can understand him, he's using ancient Greek to invoke Aelous.

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
Ooooh, this is getting more and more interesting. Mary and Satana have a sort-of working relationship. They've hunted together a few times. Mary gets a blood bag, Satana gets a soul out of it. So they can respect one another's skillset and powers. Caleb is dismissed beyond the capacity for being a meatshield, which is a very valuable thing to have in a place as chaotic as this and as hostile.

Then she sees Cain and she goes to blow a kiss, "Darling, you look ravishing." Normally there might be something extra added on for some sort of double entendre, but even someone as arrogant as Satana can tell with the recent news reports that have gone on with the Avatar of Cyrrotak that now is not the time to go over it. He seems to be walking towards them, which is better than running. Even if his presence here will probably be about as damaging to the area as the cosmic fueled tornado.

As John goes to make his request, Satana goes to offer her hand over to his. Those large curved horns on the back of her head glow, growing out further. Tail growing more pronounced along with nails turning more into talons. Feet in long heels growing thicker, harder, and turning into full on hooves. It's not easier for her to channel this way, but she has a flair for the theatrics. Even here and now as debris floods all about them as she passes along her energy to him.

"I see that those lessons you've had in consent have been paying off, Johnny Boy. You remembered to ask first this time."

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
Okay, debris flying when he got along for the ride to save The Juggernaut, debris flying now.

There's this moment where a rising gadgeteer just about has enough.

One of his gloves is especially lined with what looks to be a series of aligned transparent plates, and at the press of a button, these plates unfold circularly into a kind of shield of his own making, the center point placed at the wrist. There! Some protection, at last! With a view for more incoming debris, to boot!

He dodges the bigger ones, the smaller ones hit his shield - but clearly, it won't stand for long...

"Whatever you're gonna do, do it fast!"

Mary Seward has posed:
Mary doesn't even try hiding how she rolls her eyes at Satana's little flirtations. Not that she's really any better. "Standards, Satana. Please. Standards." That's all she'll seem to say about that.

Especially, since much more pressing matters are on the horizon. Debris hurtling towards her as if they were meteors that have been plucked from their path of flight.

She takes notice of Satana's transformation, and she's not about to let herself get shown up. As she looks up at something big flying towards her, her skin pops with fur, her bones pop and crack as muscle bulges around them, and the woman's size increases beyond rational limitations. Till she's become that massive, wolfish beast she was so fond of turning into. Raising a bulked fist, she punches at the debris in front of her, shattering into little pieces.

"Don't hog all the fun, you two."

Cain Marko has posed:
The shuddering earth from his footfalls increases with intensity as he draws near but they could be forgiven for not noticing it or directly attributing it to him given the chaos beginning to unfold and cacophony of debris, sand, and more, whirling about to obscure the particulars of his impending arrival.

Cain's gaze flickers over towards the destruction, watching impassively but with slightly narrowing eyes as the top of the building goes and sends with it massive chunks of debris raining down across the landscape, pummeling the resort like a meteor shower.

The winds do nothing to him mind you. He wouldn't be much of The Unstoppable Force if they could! His own movement even at their most subtle, create tremendous air pressure that push back against attempts to buffet him any way he doesn't wish to be buffeted and that includes pushing him forward faster then he wishes to be. Instead his thunderous, slow, kaiju like approach continues towards the group and no doubt the magical senses of those capable of feeling him would sense his approach by now even among the maelstrom of confusion that is happening and the pulsing energies of the power cosmic so dangerously close by.

But sense him or not, his presence is soon made known quite noticeably as a massive chunk of the hotel comes spiraling in, hurtling towards the colossal man and the group. John's shields may be up - but now The Juggernaut is in the path of the impending impact zone as it comes hurtling in from the flank of where the gathered group stands.

Juggernaut's arm hauls upwards like a sequoia lifting up from a forest floor and a loud *KATHOOOM* resounds as he claps his palm against a portion of the immense sundered wall of glass, cement and steel. HIs arm flexes, bending slightly to absorb the shock of the impact and the rest of the kinetic energy goes rushing into him and down into the ground - blasting a way a massive crater about him but sending the force of the impact away from the group as if he were not just the unstoppable force but also the immovable object.

Which..he basically is as well but we'd best not let Fred Dukes know that secret.

"....Howdy John.." he rumbles, still holding the massive piece of debris alot with one arm as he looks down at the magician and those with him.

"...Need some help...?"

Richard Stadler has posed:
     As soon as they're through, Rick can feel the wind whipping around them. Faster, faster, like how he imagine a tornado might feel on the ground. Like a HALO jump without the plan. He has to turn over to John as he speaks, trying to catch the way his lips move as he tries to provide something of a briefing to them.. in the midsts of jokes. "My main question would be why he sends the heralds in the first place! He's going to eat the planet! Why tell us about it? Ego?" He says, before fumbling for the mask at his side, quickly reaching for it and trying to secure it over his face. The wind was making his eyes water, bringing his glasses askew, and this was the one thing he could do to keep the breath in his lungs.

His rifle does go up at the thundering sound next to them, pointing at the man who blocked a large section of the building from hitting them. It just as quickly goes down. He was either friendly, or shooting him was just going to make him mad. "At least we've got a lot of people to help-" He says, between the transformed monsters and Caleb standing on two feet.

And then. "Flying!? I'd say something about a helicopter, but I'm guessing you have some hocus pocus in mind!" He yells through the vocalizer, his voice barely audible. "Do I have a choice!?"

John Constantine has posed:
"Never felt the need t'ask, Tanny, not when the invitation is always on the table!" Bedside table that is. The quip is made just as the winds begin to fall - somewhat - under John's control, at least the winds in their general vicinity. Satana will feel the slight tingling of him drawing mystical energy from her and channeling it with his own into the spell - it almost tickles. Much like the vortex still swirling where that building once stood, the air circles around the team at an almost alarming rate. "You'll have your fun, luv!" Probably eating the twats that /think/ they're causing this with their sacrifices. That tornado choses that exact moment to go inverse again, moving on to hover over the next building. To Caleb he replies, "You think you can do better, mate?!" Someome has not forgotten that little 'message spat'.

John's spell doesn't stall, but it does seem to be holding its breath just a bit - no one's lifting off the ground /yet/. With his focus on the wind and not on the mystical shields, Cain's arrival is fortuitous to say the least. "Thanks, Mate!" John bellows over the wind before he gives an upward side eye toward the sky. "What're the odds you can take a runnin' leap up there and cork that mess?!" Is he /really/ suggesting that Juggernaught act as an Avatar sized cork in the bottle of a violent inverse tornado? Yes, yes he is suggesting just that.

At least the screams of the people being tossed into the winds can't be heard, well, over the winds. The waters below the hotel churn faster, bubbling up a froth that hides the darkness of the water itself.

"Bloke said it's to give us the option to evacuate! But that doesn't make much sense, considering Galactus needs more than an empty planet! And no, you don't!" With his response given to Rick, John goes back to chanting. It's not really a gentle thing when the winds begin to lift the team from the ground - it's not horrible, but the spinning inside the mini-tornado isn't just merry-go-round levels of circular motion. The rise is quick as well - it's a bit dizzying and perhaps a little nauseating for those not expecting it.

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
There's a playful roll of her eyes over at Mary Seward, "Why? Everyone has a potential use. One can't be picky." Satana would taunt back over against her fellow creation of the dark as the demoness and the vampire would sass over at one another. She keeps her hand curled out, even as a long, forked tongue spikes out of fanged lips over as the group goes to try and fight their way through everything hammering off him.

Then Juggernaut is coming towards him and she eyes him up and down appreciatively. "I do love this one. Give a lady a break, please?" Giving a half curtsy over towards Cain while he would offer, most of her control being on giving John energy for this particularly troublesomely mystically maintained eye at the center of the proverbial cosmic storm.

As John goes on suggesting what to do with Juggernaut, Satana goes to call upon her own occult senses and knowledge. "That hsould work." Theoretically. The issue is getting him out when all is done without just the storm starting all over again. Or if it is cosmically fueled, or there's some sort of higher being involved, if it is the sort of thing that can throw all of them around.

"I did have a most interesting chat earlier today.."

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
"The answer is simple, Mr. Stadler", Caleb says. "From warning the inhabitants to assessing if the these pose some sort of threat to their master, and if so, elliminate them. Clearing the way, so to speak." He pauses, "There are lots of ways to see it, but they all end up the same way", his tone shifts ominously, "Dinner is served."

He gasps when a whole chunk of a hotel comes their way, and that makes Juggernaut a welcoming sight when he punches it to tiny bits - yet, out of sheer reflex, he covers himself with the shield.

He looks at those who're tossing people into the tornado, "Okay, we need to get rid of those robed assholes!" He prepares a gun, just in case.

Mary Seward has posed:
The prospect of a host of humans to feast on for free excites something deep within the heart of the bestial Mary. Of course, she'll have to stray away from the poor souls getting thrown in the tornado. She's too surrounded by company who frown on that sort of behavior.

"You treat me well, John. Not all the time but every once in a while..."

Cain Marko has posed:
The giants wrist bends. The massive piece of rubble is sent hurtling away finally with a gesture that almost looks like a flick of the wrist. It goes crashing and thundering into another part of the resort, evacuated by now mind you but...well...Juggernaut doesn't show up and not do some collateral damage in the process. It's in the contract. As to any other debris - well - while he doesn't seem to have the ability, or knowledge, on how to put a force field up around others ... he -is- there and so makes a pretty good wall as anything else slamming into him doesn't so much as make him blink. So Satana's request seems well in hand.

He holds John in his gaze for a few seconds, a faint smirk tugging at the side of his mouth at the greeting from magic user before he grows more serious and then directs his attention towards the building in question and the storm there. He glances briefly towards Satana and then looks to the Queen of Blood and then Richard and Caleb, holding them in his gaze for a few long seconds.

Finally: "Sure John." he says. "I can get to the top of the buildin' easy. Even try blowin' the funnel cloud apart. Anything actually in the air itself ... you're gonna have to deal with."

After another pause as if thinking it all over, he steps away just John's spell starts to take shape over the others and lifts them off. He waits for them to get some distance and then crouches down. The sheer pressure of his strength begins to shake the ground again and a sinkhole craters about him...expanding as the ground shakes and sunders. Then - he's off! A thunderous plume of debris and rubble follows after him like a contrail as he goes hurtling through the air in a tremendous leap for what's left of the top of the hotel and the funnel cloud itself. Hulk leaping may not be in his usual method of movement or repetiore but reaching a skyscraper's top? No problem. It's just a matter of what will happen when he lands....

Richard Stadler has posed:
     Caleb and John get a bit of a look there. "Can think of some problems with that, but fair point! Not that I can argue it currently!" He says. His voice was going to go hoarse before this was over, he was almost sure of it. Now wasn't the time to yell out that it would help the population prepare to resist, if they were a threat, and if they weren't, they wouldn't be able to evacuate a planet. Drawing room discussions for when everyone was older and considering this an adventure. Besides, he had enough to worry about. So, so much more to worry about, in fact.

Starting with the way the wind whipped around them, causing the combat gear to rattle.. it'd be a problem if it wasn't secured as well as it was. Still, it was /entirely/ uncomfortable to be lifted off the ground with no means of controlling it, and just because Rick was used to how a plane or helicopter could move doesn't mean he could get used to John playing Aero.

He tried, through the whipping wind, to get his rifle in a firing state. It was hard. Exceedingly hard. Tucked hard under his arm, enough that the recoil would bruise. The clip he takes out get's ripped away, falling clear out of sight, as he moves for something high velocity. Energy would be needed to actually /hit/ anything.

John Constantine has posed:
It really doesn't take but seconds for the winds John is controlling to lift the team up and to the top of that famous hotel - his target is one end of the long rooftop. Once they're there, he steps out of the wind as if stepping from an elevator or a revolving door. He takes just a beat to survey the situation.

The entire length of the Marina Bay Skytop Park is filled with people - some in robes, some screaming in protest and terror over the fate they know awaits them. Not all the sacrifices were afforded a trip with a view, some were simply drowned in the churning waters of the Skytop's infinity pool. The Skytop spans the the length of about a little over a thousand feet - it acts as a bridgeway between the three buildings of the hotel itself. It's the guests that are being used as sacrifices - to nothing really. The Herald's don't care about sacrifices, the cultists mean nothing to them. Like so many of these groups, the 'Gods' they worship aren't even listening.

Once on the Skytop, John steps forward, lights another Silkie and looks back toward the rest of the team, "Ladies first, ey?" Now it's time for the girls to show why John Constantine would rather have them by his side than at his back, /on/ his side rather than /not/.

The wind at this height could be deadly if a misstep should happen and, well, John isn't stepping anywhere. He's staying put for the moment. At the far end of the playing field, there's that small group of wankers amid a mass of twats that think they know a thing or two about magic. What exactly it is they're cooking up down there, John isn't sure yet. He'll feel it out with his senses - and deal with it once a path has been cleared.

To the gentleman that rode up on the wind with them, he says, "Might want to stay out of their way, mates." He's talking about the women of course. "But otherwise," he jerks his head in that direction and adds, "Welcome to the party, should be a wild one."

To Mary specifically he calls out, "Don't drink too much, luv, wouldn't want you hung over in the morning!"

The buildings in these parts, particularly the one Juggernaut has targeted, are fortunately built to last. The technology held inside the buildings being marked by the winds is years ahead of its time - very well could be the reason they're being marked in the first place. When he looks up, into that inverted funnel - into the vortex, Cain will see that this isn't anything natural it's too low, much lower than it looks from the ground - he could almost reach out and touch it, almost. There actually /is/ a narrowing visible that appears to be very much 'pluggable'. A pluggable hole at the end of a funnel and people. Yes, people and some still alive, their mouths open, their screams sucked away by the wind itself as they wait to be pulled into the neck of the funnel. Even as he watches one such person is sucked away into - wherever that thing will spit them out.

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
Satana goes to just smile ravenously, "Why Johnny Boy, I thought you would never ask." She glances over her shoulder. Constantine understands what is necessary. The others.. WEll, those that she cares about will be enjoying this or not caring about it. Those who do care.. Well.. Accidents happen.
    Satana starts chanting in Ye Olde Demon. Her hands go to rise up and over into the air, starting to call forth dark, crimson, eldritch energies. The spell that first she uses is not one of demonic origin, or even Earthern.
    It's Celestial in nature. As in Angelic. She goes to chant and call out as she shifts her languages to that of the Seraphim, the highest of Angels short of the Archangels. To show forth purity. The souls are channeled.. Then the most important part of the nature of angelic magic comes to play.
    Judgement.
    For the angels cared very much about -their- view of how things should be. Things which did not fit into their perspective.. Were to be damned.
    And Satana calls forth of this call of divine judgement.. And as expected, all of these souls are found wanting.
    The spell stops for the vast majority of the cultists even as they continue to glow. Satana goes to carefully arch about her magics, ensuring that there is a shield between herself and for Mary.. And she goes to smile and flash her teeth over to Mary and calls out..
    "Bon Appetit." And the two would get to work. It was a pattern that was paired between hunters.
    One would go for the literal jugular.. The other would go for everything else. One would go for the stuff of life.. The other would go for the essence.
    Satana continues the chant as the feeding goes on, and from those that are judged she goes to call forth damnation. Things that were once bodies, now husks, have thier pure essence pulled from them. Stripped of vitae, of life, now Satanna calls forth those souls, those condemned.
    They come to her as she calls them, a rising red vortex of energy that calls forth to them for consumption. And those damned to eternity..
    Are sentenced to it. And Satana feasts.

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
Shield still unfolded, Caleb readies his gun with a clip, then produces from his coat a handle, which upon pressing, a blade extends.

He paces menacingly in the cultists' direction, "I'll say this once, and I hope some of you can speak english so you can translate to others", he speaks. "What you're doing is nothing less than insane. So drop what you're..."

And both demoness and vampiress just go and start the party. Deadpan. "Aw, fuck it..." He hoped to give them a chance, but nope, the women just charge right in. "Seriously, why was I bothering?"

And the cultits, it's a mixture of hacking and shooting. And every now and then, he looks at the hostages and points them away from the maelstrom, back to safety - if there is such a thing right now. "Go! Now! Do not stop!"

Mary Seward has posed:
Excitement overtakes Mary as she's finally been given approval for her feeding frenzy. She shifts down from her monstrous visage, into her...well, surface-level human one. Satana was just so kind enough as to box them in for them all, like a little meal package.

The chant is music to her ears in her bloody carnage, tearing into flesh with teeth and claw alike. She's greedy with her feast, but she has all right to be. Who'll stop her? Each body dropped by the Queen of Blood is another soul for her succubus partner.

She couldn't deny it now. This was most ccertainly better than the trip to Florida.

Cain Marko has posed:
Fortunantely for all involved he was aiming to land -on- the tower and not go thundering through it or land on it hard enough to bring it to the ground. He's got some self control back now after all, thanks to the efforts of John and others. Efforts he's now working to repay.

But despite this, might enhanced or otherwise, he's now somewhat at a loss.

"What th'hell..." mutters Juggernaut as he braces against the wind storm and looks up to the inverted funnel cloud as it looms overhead. He sees...something..but hesitates, loathe to touch it. Of equal confusion is the behavior of those around him. Uncertain if these are simply victims or cultists...and to what end.

For all his power, cosmic in its own mystic way, he remains limited in its use...that very reason being what lay behind the motivations of those who had come for him before. But ..he's not without an imagination.

"Let's try this..." he rumbles, along with a muttered, "Sorry folks..." to those that may be still yet alive despite being caught in such a bad spot. He's callous at times but not without empathy. As said - he's a super villain...not a monster.

With that he first tries a simple approach and spreads his huge arms wide. His chest swells, arms flexing as his sinew fills with blood, trillions of cells filled with the crackling might of the elder god he embodies...

And he then brings his hands around and slams them together, aiming upwards for the funnel cloud! A thunderclap is the oldest trick in the Mega-Bricks book and it's nothing but a sudden explosive burst of air pressure. Pressure that can potentially collapse buildings and send opponents tumbling away. In this case the air pressure attempts to blast into the funnel cloud itself as the Exemplar of Physical Power puts his title to the test and tries to literally physicall force the wind storm to disperse by blowing it away! If nothing else, it may grant a moment of peace and make that hole more clearly visible and accessible by someone who can fly up towards it.

Hopefully the wind the shockwave is attempting to burst thorugh and blow apart will serve as some buffer for the few victims who are held aloft...if not....

Richard Stadler has posed:
     Stadler, for once, gives a look of complete understanding over to Caleb as he speaks. "Get's a little aggravating, playing with the Gods, Mr. Dykstra. Take my advice; we've got a lot of shooters. World could use a few more good bureaucrats!"

Hey, the kid was young. Certainly a little career advice wouldn't be amiss at the moment. Again, one did what they could in such harrowing situations.

For Rick's sake, at the very least he could do /something/ on the deck of this bridge, boots doing a hell of a job not slipping off glass and concrete. He keeps himself low to the ground, Rifle slung over his shoulder, attempting three points of contact as he skitters up. A cultist appears in front of him, and, unlike Caleb, he doesn't give the order to halt. This was far, far beyond any sort of policing situation. He just takes a knee, brings the weapon up, and fires. Single shot, the trigger pulled twice. Even at this close distance, the round finds itself pulled and whipped off the mark, forcing him to adjust the second for center mass.

He'd try to keep things far enough away; control was key here, and it meant keeping targets far enough away; the chanting ones first. Surely they knew any sort of physical attack would be dangerous for everyone. Which... well. They were cultist. Which is why Stadler found himself driving the butt of his rifle into the throat of one who came too close, pressing the barrel aganist his chest and firing point blank.

No adjusting for windage, there.

John Constantine has posed:
Far John's part, he just walks in the wake of those that go before him - and smokes. If someone manages to get through the death that is Satana and Mary and then through the second line of defense that is Richard and Caleb, John pretty easily dispatches them over the side of the SkyPark with a gesture of a hand that redirects the buffeting wind in that direction. From time to time, he does the same to keep an innocent from toppling over the side to their doom. Here and there, he reaches out with the same magic to catch someone that's been tossed and pull them back to solid ground. His coat isn't even billowing in that wind. He's obviously done something to protect himself from that.

John Constantine's wheelhouse is not physical confrontation - it's magic and cunning. Neither the tanks nor the wizard is more important than the other - importance of position is not why he lets the others pave the way. It's actually a show of respect for his team that he trusts them to take out the worst of it before it can get to him - a matter of trust in their unique abilities. Yes, in a situation such as this, he even trusts Mary and Satana with his life. With Cain, it's a little more complicated than that. Cain the man? John would trust him pretty much completely in any situation - John may not be a villain in his own story, but he knows he is in the stories of others. Juggernaught - it's a toss-up if only do to the unpredictability. And that thunderclap is a perfect example. While it might have the desired effect, while it might split that funnel wide open and disperse the energy it needs to keep spinning - it also causes the SkyPark to shake and shimmy like a girl in a poodle skirt doing the twist.

John is really not the physical type. The only way he holds his own in a hand to hand combat is by eye-gouging, groin kicks and biting - really, biting. He's not the most graceful. The shockwave knocks him to his hands and knees, but at least not on his face  -that would be embarrassing. He feels it from the bottom of his feet all the way up to his skull. It rattles his brain just a bit and for a moment the spell he was using to protect himself from the winds falters. He goes skidding and tumbling toward the edge and, wouldn't you know it, right where a stretch of any kind of railing is missing. He doesn't even have time to curse his luck, although he's mentally exclaiming, 'Bollocks!'

Those that aren't chanting are easily dispersed, for the most part. They fight back but and might score a hit here or there, but they're probably just accountants and lawyers when they're not sacrificing people needless to a Herald of Galactus. Those at the opposite end, the ones chanting? Not so easily disposed off. Bullets and bodies both bounce off the magical barrier they've put up like rubber balls off a wall.

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
Her consumption is interrupted when the backlash of power from Juggernaut punching existence with a sonic blast and it sends Satana flying out of the air until she's capable of reorienting herself, which breaks the full seance that such crass overconstumpion brought upon her. It takes her a moment to focus, even as she takes the edge off with another flick of her fingers. One in ten, one in ten. That is how her debt goes.
    One in ten souls she consumes are to be given to her father. Normally Satana would fight talon and fang over such a thing rather than surrender them so quickly - it makes her look weak. But here? Here, doing something she loahtes for someone she hates evne more is enough to break her of her own soul-lust. It takes her back from the edge of devouring the near countless sparks of fanatics and takes her back to something of a more functional level.
    As the blokes (in failing of using a far more appropriately phrased term) go to simply block off things going at them, Satana goes to watch over in thought for a few moments. And she goes to whisper to them. Calling forth words of power of a simpler nature. Going to try and trigger receptors in brains of relaxation, disorientation, fogginess. A buzz.
    Then to Mary Seward her eyes would flicker, still glowing red. <<Finish them>> That is spoken in the ancient language (or not so ancient) one from when Mary first lost her mortality and gained her true nature. While Satana might not be able to fully cloud the minds of a fanatical thrall..
    WIth thier consciousness hopefully already weakened, the far more powerful gaze of a Master Vampire probably could.

Mary Seward has posed:
It seems she has never found a more perfect partner. They compliment eachother so well. The Queen of Blood, covered in gore and scarlet, had just happened upon the idea of attacking mentally where she could not physically. Ms. Hellstrom had to be a dear and make it far easier for her.

"Yes, ma'am." She answers to Satana's urging with grand enthusiasm, hunger in her voice. Her eyes glow fiercely red, even amongst all the red that has drenched her body. She casts her enchanting gaze upon the cultists, her call to cement herself as their new Queen, their goddess even.

A goddess need not speak to command her disciples. Thus she does not need to in order to give her simple instruction. She simply raises up a thumb and drags it across her own neck, slicing into it. Non-lethal to her....but the general idea was clear for them.

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
The building shakes and cracks under Caleb's feet, due to instability of the structure with previous tornado-like forces.

And Juggernaut's hand clap was the final straw that broke the camel's back.

The part of the building he's standing in, rumbles, crumbles, and shatters, and slips away from Caleb's feet.

In a quick reaction, he does try to run, and stick his sword on a more stable edge as the ground escapes his feet...

But to no avail.

"FUCK!!", is really all he can say, as he comes falling down...

Cain Marko has posed:
Well it's a good thing he didn't aim at the buildings or his allies directly now isn't it. With just the splash wake of the effort causing the structures to sway and bodies to tumble - one can only imagine.

But it is a risk that was worth taking it would seem and if nothing else it should also be a sign that he's regained enough self control that the previous rampages associated with his sightings are in hand.

This isn't to say that other 'rampages' of their own sort aren't in the cards one day. Super villain and all. He'll just be clear headed when they happen!.

"Alright!" he shouts, his deep voice more audible with the winds having been briefly dispersed. There's no telling how long they have though.

"Get to magicking or whatever! I don't think just using some sorta plunger's gonna do the trick!"

He points up towards the..whatever it is..shape...that's causing things. He's sure as hell not going to go trying to touch it unless there's truly no other option. Juggernaut's crass, crude, single minded, destructive and many more things but he's not willfully stupid.

There's nothing to account for bad luck though and as he turns to look for the status of his comrades he sees John...and he sees Caleb.

"Ugh....are you kidding me..."

Well John, he trusts to be able to just magick a carpet out of somewhere or something. He doesn't quite get how his magic works but given his experience with sorcerers and magicians one assumes he's got a spell handy for unexpected falls, right? RIGHT?

Caleb, on the other hand...he knows less about aside from...not seeing him as much more then a hanger on and a kid out of his league. He's not without empathy though and instant later he's leapt from the tower - stretching out one arm and a huge hand that snatches Caleb mid fall and then curls him tight against his torso.

Juggernaut turns, reaching his other arm up to grab hold of the side of the tower as he descends. His fingers dig into the glass and concrete, shattering and breaking it but using it to slow his fall while his body and arm shields Caleb from the shrapnel. Most of it. At least he's not grinding him to pulp as he holds him. Gotta cash that bounty in!

Richard Stadler has posed:
     The very good news is the fact that Rick no longer had to worry about another cultist coming at him with what looked to be a boxcutter and a dream after the last few didn't have much of a sternum anymore. The very bad news was why that occurred.

Rick is prepared for many things, at the moment, but stability... was already in very short supply. The wind whipping around was managed by keeping low and keeping his body close to the ground, but there was only so much that would do for the ground effect of the blast itself. It meant being lifted off the ground, and launched away in something that, while only slightly painful, had the fear of someone in the air without so much as a parachute to control the decent.

At least dying didn't exactly /take/ long... but the benefit Rick had was that his section, unlike John's, /had/ a railing to grip onto one arm, and a leg wrapping around it with weight it was absoutely not meant to take.

"Oh, for..." He breathes, trying to catch his breath through the mask, only to hear the groaning of the railing he was on.

It was, he thought, the fastest he was able to rip off the length of rope he had thought to build and get it wrapped around his legs in a belaying form, and then a loop around the railing itself... before taking a breath. And another, and letting go.

It didn't exactly /hold/ for much longer. A second or two with the stress, but that was enough to drop a poorly estimated distance and cut his rather /rare/ uniform on already broken glass on the second to highest story of the middle tower. His bayonet was already in his hands, quickly cutting the end of the rope as the railing clanged to the ground below and /hopefully/ didn't kill anyone.

God, did John even give a radio frequency- Right. Right, that stupid... abracadamulet. Which... Okay, left vest pocket. <<Remind me.. to /educate/ people on properly communicating actions. Is the kid okay?" John? Either John's fine or he's dead, and Rick /really/ wasn't sure what the optimal was on that.

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
The young Gothamite, in free fall, closes his eyes, and prepares for the worst.

In his mind, he relives all the good moments he had with his family, and all he did to keep them safe.

It was all he could do, really.

And that's how he felt he would go.

So, he's... Strangely at peace. He's done all he humanly could, but now his time had come.

"Mother...", he says, "I'm coming h..."

Something swings by, and he's pulled away from his free fall. Realizing he's been wrapped by strong arms, he recognizes the armor.

Waiting for the Avatar of Cytorrak to land him on the ground, he says nothing. Is it shock?

He looks around once he's set down, like someone who has just come to a new world and is taking it in for the first time. And he looks at Cain, "...Thanks."

John Constantine has posed:
John knows, he's already sussed out the situation. He knows that there's no real stopping the storm brewing until the Herald behind it wants it to stop - or at least he thought there wasn't. Once Juggernaught's finished adding his own thunder to the storm, the damned thing really does seem to be shrinking in size from the energy dispersed from it by that single clap.

Is it any wonder John traveled to Thailand to find his old mate? And then back again to save him? Sure, he might have done that last bit even if the world wasn't coming to an end sooner than later - but he might not have even known about it without that first bit. Short of it - the world needs the Jaggernaut.

He knows it isn't the cultists causing this though, he knows it's no sort of magic he can counter. It's a fact he might share if he wasn't scrambling himself. Cain's not wrong - John's already working a spell up in his mind now that things aren't so rattled in his skull. Well, not really working on - he just does a smaller repeat of the one he used to get everyone up here in the first place. He disappears over the side, only to appear again in a slow spinning vortex of wind.

<<G'luck with that, Ricky. Telling the avatar of Cyttorak to give us a head's up, ey?"

Again, unpredictability. Kid, what kid? Oh! <<Dunno, mate, I was tad busy myself.>>

When John hits the rooftop again, mere ten feet from the chanting cultists he just waits.

Should anyone get close - he holds up a 'just a sec' finger in their direction.

"Hit it again, Cain!" If one clap slowed it, maybe a second will disperse enough energy to get rid of it.

Still he waits, not doing anything at all about that chanting.

The wind demon that does pop itself out of Hell at their behest is a ferocious thing. John still does nothing. He watches at it tears each and every one of them apart. He almost feels pity for them. Once he was young and foolish and thought he could control that which he could not. Difference? His biggest mistake was made trying to help save a little girl whereas these wankers thought they were summoning some god of weather or sommat like that.

It isn't until the demon they summoned and could not control has done them in that John spreads his hands in front of himself and chants, "By the power of the ancient rites, I command thee, foul demon, return to the abyss from whence you came. Per judicem vivorum et mortuorum, I banish thee to the depths of Hell. Begone!"

A vertical vortex of fire and brimstone opens between him and the demon. It's rather anti-climactic when it returns to the depths with nothing more than a mournful, "Noooooo!"

With the winds died down to a lower roar, John turns around to survey the damage and assess the situation. Eh, could be worse? And he will never admit to any of the 'white hats' just how impressed he is with Mary and Satana's handiwork.

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
Satana Hellstrom gives a quick look over at Mary Seward and smiles over at her for just a moment before sending her along very, very subtly with a twitch of her lips and her back to the rest and speaking ever so softly. "I'm pretty sure quite a few of those victims won't have taken the way down to the bottom so well. They definitely could use some mercy, couldn't they?" Moving to then switch back over to the rest of them that had gone to take down the landing over, and her own hand rising up and over with her hand to make a small wave of air between her and the brimstone.

"Sloppy, sloppy work. Any good cultist should know you shop around first before you pledge yourself to your first hellspawn, dark overlord, or elder god. HOw some abominable entity as sloppy as this could amass a horde of disposable followers.." She would be entirely flippant of the dismissed demon and the horde of fanatics that had followed them.

Mary Seward has posed:
"You should've told me you were taking us out to a buffet, John. I needed a reminder as to just why I tolerated you." Mary makes her joke. By now, the red fluid left on her on from the carnage she wrought has long since dried up. She's a mess, but she surely doesn't mind in the slightest. She can't help but weigh in on the snipe at the cultists they so thoroughly butchered.

"Tell me about it. I mean, as someone with a bunch of followers, these chumps wouldn't have lasted a day in the Blood Red Moon. Total amateurs, really." She slides a hand through her blood-soaked hair, the moisture left on seeming to slick it.

Cain Marko has posed:
Cain's expression are more clearly seen right now as he's lacking either helmet or skullcap. His overgrown long hair hangs about his face like some sort of 90s WWE wrestler and his bearded jaw is set into a deep disapproving frown as he peers at Caleb with eyes still glowing faintly crimson from the welling up of annoyance deep within his immense body.

But when the gothamite offers a word of gratitude, the behemoth softens abit and his baleful disapproving gaze relents.

"You wanna sign up for stuff like this.." he offers, tone harsh at first and then relaxing at the end.., "..Gotta make sure to watch yer step..."

He had seen Caleb at the Temple of Cyttorak as well..if barely, through the haze of the confusion and insanity that was wrecking his mind there.

At John's request, Juggernaut turns and steps away from Caleb, giving some distance...and then he leaps again, once again approaching the rooftop. He doesn't hear the chatter over what passes for the JLD comm links. He'd come right from whatever realm he'd ended up in after Thailand after all...so is lacking in extra paraphernalia. Probably for the best if they dont' want to hear Juggernaut sass.

When he lands, again the building sways though hopefully this time those nearby are better prepared. "Right..." Juggernaut grumbles and then straightens up. This time he hauls his arm backwards, clenching his fist with a sound like sequioas breaking and industrial strength leather stretching as his knuckles pop and his muscles grind. His armor swells as his body bulks up beneath it, bending and distorting the mystic metal from strength that is the only strength capable of damaging and warping it. "Let's see how it takes my SUNDAY PUNCH!"

The building shakes from the pressure building and then Juggernaut spins into a thunderous swing except at the last instant of the full swing he brings his arm to a sudden halt. A thunderous *TWHOOOM* roars out over the area as the air buckles and the pressure from his attack explodes out a massive shockwave that ruptures through the air and violently rages for its target with the full force of his punch behind it.

Richard Stadler has posed:
     Rick is back on the Amulet. He probably doesn't need to hold it to his mouth like a handie-talk. but it seems to fit. <<Oh, like being his friend was super safe to begin with.>> He notes, hand dropping as he's breathing harder then he's like to admit. He really had to check for injuries, though, before the adrenaline Wait, hit it /again/?

He wasn't exactly on the roof, but the windows were nothing more than lightly jagged openings in the tower itself. At least this was enough time to get what remained of the rope and tie himself as tightly as he could to one of the structural pillars in the room. Enough so that the shaking takes him off his feet, but keeps him on the wind ripped carpet, as things finally, finally start to die down.

Rick's in a prime position, to, looking out over Singapore, and watching John find the demon taking advantage of the situation, and banishing it to the firey pits of hell again. And at least the lip-chapping, moisture sucking wind was down to a mere tropical storm level. Enough time for Rick to run his hands over, finding a few bits of cut class, and the feelings of a strong bruise on a left thigh, but nothing broken, and nothing sticking out. Okay. Well.

Now he untied himself, and slid to his back on the same pillar, closing his eyes for a moment. He wasn't even fifty yet. Oh, well. Uphill was at least challenging. Though not too uphill.

<<Now that you're done calling divine retribution, how about coming down here to cast that portal. I complain, but I really don't want to take 60 odd flights of stairs.>>

John Constantine has posed:
This time, no one need worry about it. This time John was ready for it. This time, he shielded the entire top third of the building from it. And he did it all with a Silk Cut dangling from his lips. That doesn't mean it was easy. It just means he's going to make it look like it was.

He watches, not without a sense of utter amazement, as Juggernaught does his thing again. This time - while the clouds still remain - the vortex is gone. Another one that people question, look at as 'bad' or 'evil' that John Constantine would rather have by his side than not, on his side than not. He doesn't see things quite so black and white as some.

There are times when that's a good thing and times when it isn't so much.

<<Just don't go wanderin' from the foyer, mate. Wouldn't want to spend the next month lookin' for you.>> He's mostly joking, generally the house doesn't torture John's allies. Once the warning is dropped, a purple haze begins to form in front of Rick - the haze solidifies into more of a steady opening. Through it, the violet hued image of the - sometimes there and sometimes not - foyer of The House of Mystery can be seen.

The damage done here is incredible, but it's not near the scale it could have been.

"You owe me dinner now, luv," he almost purrs in Mary's direction. Then he holds out a hand to Satana again, just time ... well, just because. Blue eyes, red rimmed and sporting suitcases underneath them turn toward Calab. "Cain's not wrong, careful 'bout getting in over your depth, mate. People drown that way."

... and the ragtag team of misfits known as the Justice League Dark? They almost always swim in the deep end.

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
As Satana goes to head along with the group, she goes to smile over and takes the hand given to her by John, "Just remember, Johnny Boy.." She would give him a theatrical wink. "Much as we enjoy them, this is a bit more involved than a quickie should be." Before she can go to think of something else to say,s he turns her head to the side to let out a belch.
    "Nothing quite like a good meal. They were a little too filling, but fast food. I suppsoe I"ll have to put in a few more hours at the gym to work it off." Between her and Mary..
    She would float up and over towards the house, humming over 'Money for Nothing'.

Mary Seward has posed:
Accidentally got herself tricked into owing a debt. Mary should have figured such a thing would occur when agreeing to team up with Constantine long enough. She shakes her head and sighs. "Just when I start liking you, always find a way to ruin it, Constantine." Regardless, she'll have to take him up on that offer eventually. It's the least she could do. After all, the meal he treated her to was a magnificent feast. Even if it was a feast she had to share.

Speak of the literal devil, she trails behind Satana with a smile. A great pair the two made. Maybe, it's just because of how well she seems to gravitate to devils. Maybe, it's just the way two hungry girls compliment one another...Maybe, she's just got something of a crush. No one could say for sure.

Richard Stadler has posed:
     Rick looked over the portal itself, and, for another long moment, considered the stairs that must be in this building. And walking down the flights of them to the street level, and then explain to the US Embassy why his passport didn't have a visa (what, people didn't bring theirs?) and take an 18 hour series of planes in a few days for a few thousand dollars because that /might/, /might/ be better then wandering through this portal to a place he was only reasonably certain was on the same plane of existence.

He wasn't even fifty yet. God.

Through t he pportal he went, through through to the foyer, hopefully, and to wait for John to arrive and make the front door safely appara, right in front of the two very lethal ladies. And he had no less tests to grade, too.

John Constantine has posed:
Reasonably certain isn't truly certain though, is it? Where /exactly/ the House of Mystery exists, John isn't even certain. But they'll all make it back to wherever it exists and find themselves free to go - sometimes that bit doesn't happen, but only sometimes.

As soon as the door closes behind him, John leans back against it, lights a cigarette and mumbles, "Well, Johnny Boy, quite the team there - so long as they can be kept from killin' one another before the war of the world is over - we stand about a snowball's chance in Hell, better odds than I figured without them."

His nose wrinkles ever so slightly when he realizes that, for someone that is not a team player, he's certainly been thinking of them as such a lot lately.

Bollocks.