18775/HUNGER: Man-Thing

HUNGER: Man-Thing
Date of Scene:	18 August 2024
Location:	Florida Everglades
Synopsis:	The challenge was a bog witch, the reward an audience with Man-Thing. Will the information they found help? Even if it doesn't, meeting Man-Thing was an experience none will soon forget.
Cast of Characters:	John Constantine, Monet St. Croix, Mary Seward, Diana Prince, Camille Russo
Tinyplot:	Hunger

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John Constantine has posed:
The beginning part of the journey to find Man-Thing was easy enough, John just had his house drop them a close as possible - the rest of the way, he explained, would have to be on foot. The House of Mystery's magic so close to the Nexus of all Realities might combine with unpredictable results - like the lot of them winding up in some reality where they're all Chibi versions of themselves. Close enough is better than not close enough. The Florida Everglades is a massive expanse of wetlands.

It's also eerie and shrouded in perpetual twilight, blurring the line between night and day and making even this daytime trip a little dodgy. The humid air is thick enough that makes every breath feel heavy and damp. The dense canopy of ancient gnarled trees looms over head, their twisted branches interlocking to form a natural roof that blooks out most of the sky. Spanish moss hangs like ghostly drapes, swaying gently in the occasional breeze.

The ground underfoot is a treacherous mix of mud and water with paces of solid earth. The water is opaque and dark, hiding anything that might lurk below. The stench of decay and stagnant water permeates the air, mingling with the scene of wet vegetation. And this is the outskirts of Man-Thing's 'territory'.

None of it has convinced John Constantine to change up his attire, nor has it convinced him to not have a Silkie dangling between his lips. With the cherry from the end of his cigarette bobbling up and down as he speaks, "Right then, remember the common goal," just a gentle reminder to those with chippy shoulders and grievances that there's a bigger picture. With a grand sweeping gesture of one hand he adds, "Shall we then?" as if he's presenting the entrance to a grand ball room and not a swamp filled with dangerous beasts - both natural and not so much.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
A swamp. Why did it have to always be a swamp? Monet has a disgusted look over on her face that fades quickly. This place is dangerous in a way that the Savage Land is not. Even she can have a feel of it - something that screams not of this world. "Nexus of All Realities?" Not sure she wanted to know exactly how it worked. Enough chaos for one thing at at a time.

They were here to try and find information on Galactus. And carefully. And as to how exactly this 'Man-Thing' was useful over on that end.. She trusted John. Well, somewhat. Enough that he got results, and little else. The House creeped her out, and so did John a bit. Just the passing touch of his mind had her throwing up and over massive mental shields to block it out.

"So tell us what to expect when we go out tehre and how we should be on our guard?" It couldn't be simple - if it was simple there wouldn't be a team of heavy hitters along.

Mary Seward has posed:
Feeling likely underdressed, and having just the hint of a brimstone and sulfur scent left on her, Mary Seward seems to weigh the pros and cons of volunteering for this. As a vampire with nomadic tendencies, she's not unused to lurking around dark and dank spots where only the beasts that hide in shadows dwell. It's all the mud, muck and wetness of the area that really turned her off. Made worse by the swamp musk being amplified by her beyond average sense of smell.

"....You sure know how to pick a venue, John." She shakes her head, as she eyeballs the rest of the group. Aside from the familiar faces from the meeting, the one that catches her eye the most is the Princess of Paradise herself. Meeting up so soon after their cross-up in Gotham. As if to push her luck, Mary snaps her fingers, and suddenly her strange and racy red outfit is replaced with the poorly made "Mary Seward is Sorry About Gotham" t-shirt she went to the House of Mystery with.

"Well, I know my way around mystical tall tales and rumor, so I'll tell you the most important tip that I've picked up for this situation...Whatever you do, when you see him, do not be afraid of how monstrous and hideous he is. Or he'll burn you up."

Diana Prince has posed:
Unlike the last time Diana visited John's home, to help Jon Kent speak with his mother from another reality, this time Wonder Woman was in her full armored regalia. She'd come with weapons adorning her back, her lasso visible on her hip, and her dark hair tied back in a finely braided ponytail that was lined with golden strings that intertwine between the looped braids of dark locks.

"I have been to the Everglades before." Diana said, upon arrival in to the wet lands of Florida's most precious natural preserve. She cast her eyes out across the landscape, before she put them back upon Constantine. "We fought a monstrous being, built from a strange alien magic. The pythons here are absolutely taking this land over, but the aligators must be watched for yet still."

Diana's eyes traced over to that of Mary, observing her shift in to a change of attire, and taking in the woman's words. A contemplative expression fell across the tall Amazonian woman's facial features, "But, sometimes the most dangerous elements are within one's own party..." The Princess grimly added on to her own vocalized thoughts.

She steeled herself, as they had bigger issues to focus on right now, but her hands did flex in and out of a state of fists, the leather wrapped around her palms giving quiet, subtle, creaks, as she did so.

Camille Russo has posed:
Cam knows how to dress for swamp. Her hair's covered, and she's got on a neoprene set of waders that offer the right combination of protection and comfort for the heat and humidity this time of year. "Gators and Crocs, cottonmouths and rattlers, turtles, puma and black bear," she recites in answer to Monet's question. "Least as far as big things go. Swamp's kinda like beach though, be careful where you're steppin or you might end up thigh-high in a step you swore only looked ankle deep." She nods at Diana too. "Yeah, python're invasive, so ain't nobody in the park service gonna cry too hard if you manage to kill'em. Spiders too, an'the poison plants. Ivy for sure, probably some oak and sumac too. Just don't touch'em bare hands.

She's got a small machete on her back, and a string of vials that can freeze and stun, but most of her kit today is less people lethal, more ready to take on the flora and fauna.

John Constantine has posed:
John has literally been to Hell and back more times than a person can count on fifty hands. He's dealt with demons ranging from annoying little Infernal Librarians all the way up to the Lords. He's also friends with Swamp Thing so that's something. "I've dealt with monstrous and hideous, luv, it's always the pretty ones that'll stab you in the back, innit?" He tempers insult padded with a compliment with a wink.

Monet gets his attention next - only second because keeping Mary and her chaos in check was a top priority here. "You should /always/ be on your guard, can't even walk into a corner market these days without the threat of being shot in the bloody head. But as what to expect? The unexpected - exactly what should be expected at the crossroads to all realities."

Almost as if he was always there, considering how easily he drifts that direction - as if just meandering aimlessly, John is next to Diana. When he reaches for her hand, it's a subtle thing - not obvious to anyone that's not looking. It's one light squeeze of her iron fist and a murmured, "Easy, luv, save it for the waiter that served bad tea or sommat?"

John should really let someone else take point. He's pretty squishy when it comes to the physicality of it - not quite as squishy as a normal human but no where near as non-squishy as the likes of Diana and Mary. But he does. And there's a reason.

The first of the trek is pretty uneventful, not even so much as an angry gator, although they can be seen watching warily from the sidelines from time to time - particularly from the larger pools of water. But the terrain makes the half hour of walking seem more like two days. It's right about the half hour mark that John stops, the hair on his neck rising and a shudder running through him. It's not fear though, it's just that /feeling/, the feeling of something powerful to the point of almost being incomprehensible.

That, right there, that feeling is what had him at the front of the line.

"Double on guard, girls, we're stepping into the unexpected."

Monet St. Croix has posed:
She's used to being shot, it doesn't mean that she likes it or shouldn't avoid it. Monet St. Croix keeps her expression rather neutral. As John goes on about the Nexus of All Realities, she -really- hopes that they're not going to do something to start up some sort of reality destabilization. But the fact this is magical and likely some sort of nexus has her hopeful that it's stable. But if this is a multiversal gateway.. She would shoot Diana a small look of concern wtih an 'is this good' that goes over her face before quickly smoothing out.

Those sorts of concerns were for another time. If it wasn't useful for them to be here, and if the dangers outweighed the benefits, then they wouldn't have come. Mary Seward is given a very, very glance. If she had to be on her guard, that included some of the ones with them. They might be in some sort of truce, and Mary might be a member of the Brotherhood, but as far as MOnet was concerned it as ana lliance of convenience, and she did hold rather little faith that ultimately it would last.

As Diana goes forwards, Monet goes to take her normal position on the flank of the Amazon Princess that she had become used to fighting alongside. Trusting Diana's instincts and awareness if there was athreat coming to react to it and Monet going to immedaitely back her up or do as ordered.

Mary Seward has posed:
Mary looks away from Wonder Woman, mouthing "I didn't even do anything." Like these taunts were her idea of being playful. Of course, she still notices Monet's glance and gives her a wink in return.

Still wanting to try her hand at cooperation, she follows along with the group, standing behind Diana and Monet. She'd rather avoid any suspicious looks. Besides, she's confident that she'll be able to sense anything amiss well enough that she doesn't need to be up ahead.

"....Get a load of those two, am I right?" She looks over to Camille, apparently making small-talk for her own amusement.

"...So high and mighty, blech...They're all like that, you know. These tights people..."

Diana Prince has posed:
Camille earned a look from Diana, along with a soft nod of her head. "Call anything out that you need help with, and I will be here to provide it." She said with her husky toned voice, a confidence behind her words. But John soon stood beside her, using his hand on hers to gain her attention. She heard his words, and returned a look that would convey a measure of uncertainty about elements of the group, a look he would surely understand. She does not comment on it, and instead, her hand moves back over her right shoulder.

Diana's fingers grip the golden pole of a Themysciran war spear. She pulls it from the leather long sheath upon the back of her body harness, the spear's silver bladed apex gliding quietly with a whispered exhale, as the Princess pulls the seven foot tall weapon from behind her back.

She had given Mary one more look, but had resolved herself to focus on the task at-hand. What followed, on the trek across the swamp, was Wonder Woman doing as she did best. She was utilizing her heightened senses to spot threats, and her training to react to them. Dashing, darting, and stabbing... Diana would periodically spot a threat, and move toward it. From two snakes rapidly twirled up around the end of her spear, and tossed in to the distance to the resulting sounds of water splashing, to the bladed edge of the weapon's business end being used to swipe away foliage in their path, both poisonous and otherwise, Wonder Woman was there, a survivalist in every sense of the word...

But, as John came to a stop, Diana moved past Monet, and stood beside him, her spear's butt-end planted beside the left wedge-heeled sole of her armored boot.

She drew in a breath, and spoke lowly. "is this a good sign, or a bad sign?" She asked him, a glance given back to the others.

Camille Russo has posed:
Camille takes back point, even though she's ostensibly the squishiest person aside from John. Still, she's experienced in waters like this, and she prefers bringing up the rear to taking point most of the time. "Yes ma'am," she answers Diana with a respectful nod.

With the Princess taking point on handling up front threats, she keeps her own eyes on the waters to their side and behind, mostly looking for the patterns that might indicate a snake. The magic they come to a stop at is heavy and thick, and she rolls her shoulders a few times before deliberately dropping them. They don't mean harm, they just have questions. Hopefully that will keep them safe.

John Constantine has posed:
"Not sure yet, luv." Mere moments after John speaks, a dense fog rolls in where there was none before. Bonus - the chill of the fog takes a little of the edge off the humid, oppressive heat of the swam. Downside - chilling fogs out of nowhere generally aren't rolling in as personal air conditioners.

A stillness falls over everything and along with it quiet, as if the fog is muting the sounds of anything living. Even when John address Diana again, his voice is muffled, almost as if speaking with a pillow covering his face. "I'm guessin' bad."

A hair of a heartbeat later, John whips his head to one side and lets out a, "Bloody /hell!"

The sounds of little crystal wings beating pierces the fog like little windchimes caught in a gale.

John lets out another yelp. "Shardflies!"

What are shardflies? Well, he might just have a second to explain if their razor edged wings weren't tearing him a new face.

He's not the only target, no one's safe.

"Stay together!" John bellows over the fog that's still muffling everything but the sounds of those wings - a beautiful sound likely in any other situation. The beauty is lost, however, when those horrid little wings flitter and flutter against bare skin - or even skin covered anything but the most stubborn of fabrics.

Even as the chaos is reigning, something else happens. It's not words, it's just /feelings/ coupled with mental images of the fog abating and the shardflies retreating to clear the path. In its entirety, well, it's a challenge offered up by something immensely powerful.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
What happens is even as the shardflies go to flash on out everywhere, Monet goes to reach forwards over to try and grab John to get him out of the way and going to protect him! Most of the others can take care of themselves for just a few moments, but John's the squishiest of them, and she can't let him be at risk. She moves to quickly try and play guard. Rather than swatting over at the flies, she just tries to interpose her body in front of as many of them as possible, trying to limit the injury the others might receive from them.

Then, she goes to, presuming he lets her, goes to try and reach into John's mind and establish a mental link, even as the sheer -queasiness- and -wrongness- goes to flow over them all. Monet goes to try and put up a mental 'block' amongst the sensations - she's just trying to transmit information, not feelings, and just to get them all coordinated.

<<Summary. How to counter them>> To share amongst the rest.

Mary Seward has posed:
At first, Mary isn't sure she heard him right, even with her enhanced hearing. Shardflies. That she didn't know. Then, she sees them for herself.

"What the hell?" She hisses, awkwardly swatting away at the bugs as they slash into her skin with their wings. Luckily, she's at least able to heal fast from the damage.

One of her arms suddenly grows unnaturally hairy and unnaturally muscular, as she now swipes newly made claws at any of the bugs that come close to her.

Diana Prince has posed:
Diana's reflexes permit her an ability to see threats in a much different fashion than the average person, and as John gives a foreboding reaction to her question, Diana takes her eyes off of the others in her group, and moves them over in time to see one of the bugs reaching to Constantine's place. She is unable to do much about it, however, as there is quite a swarm of them falling across their group. Diana feels a cut to her bare shoulder, then one across the side of her cheek. She moves her wrists up to bat the bugs away with her armored bracers, causing their strange wings to clatter against the Amazon steel of her Aegis armor encased forearms.

This was getting out of hand, fast, and was an unexpected reaction to their presence here, to be sure. With a quick glance to the others, Diana acted, and stepped forward. She crouched down to one knee, with her spear dropped in the mud, and her wrists rising up to slam together in front of her. She called upon the power of the Aegis, the kinetic power of the Gods bursting out from Diana's hands, rolling out in the direction that the flies had come from!

It is a blossoming wave of golden energy that sparkles across the swamplands, rustling the ground, sending loose detritis flying in all directions, and a tidal wave of water that fans out away from their group's position. It does not affect the bugs already around them, but it certainly should send a message to the rest of the swarm coming their wway!

Camille Russo has posed:
"Aw hell, I didn't think anything was worse than mosquitoes and horseflies but I was wrong," Cam curses, uncapping a vial and throwing it into a swarm of the things. It's not as effective as being able to smash it on the ground, but a handful of the obnoxious things drop on the ground frozen.

Diana's burst of energy is impressive and terrifying, and Cam lets out a low, very impressed whistle, then uncaps another vial and tosses it into another grouping of the shardflies.

John Constantine has posed:
The little bastards are /everywhere/. If not careful, they might even fly into open mouths. This must be what it's like to die the death of a thousand cuts. John's face looks a little like he's been shaving drunk - again, but he's done it fifteen times in a row. It's covered in thin little cuts that look almost like papercuts but they run deeper than that. They bleed, a lot.

Man-thing all up in his head, Monet all up in his head. It all makes it difficult for a petty dabbler like himself to concentrate on anything else. And concentration is key to his work.

<It's bog witch magic! He's telling us we need to get through her to get to him!>

He'll think to thank Monet from saving him, mostly, from getting cut to ribbons later. Right now he needs to /think/.

The near opague nature of the fog and the constant need to try to get /away/ from those little bastards would make it incredibly easy to end up separated and lost. Probably the point if the blood loss doesn't get them first.

Diana's quick action staves off some of the onslaught, just enough of it to allow John a little more time to breathe, a little more time to focus. Protection spells are a dime a dozen in his repertoire, so when he finds that moment, that break in the chaos and pain - it takes only a few words muttered under his breath in Latin to toss up a protective barrier around the lot of them.

"Well, that just went tits up, didnnit?" Well, they can't quite just stand there in the middle of the Florida Everglades at the very edge of Man-Thing's 'turf' under a protective bubble indefinitely now, can they? "I can't counter her magic with the protection spell in place and those things won't quit comin' until I do or until someone gets to her and stops her."

Any suggestions? It's an unspoken question implied by tone.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet goes to stay on the defensive, rapidly moving to try and send out telepathic sweeps towards the area to try and track down the woman that's doing this. Trying to find a way to connect with her - it may or may not be useful at all, given the way that magic and telepathy often did not owrk well together, and how magic neutralized so many of those maneuvers.

But Monet was stubborn, Monet had spent a great deal of time training, and Monet was getting frustrated at this, even as blades went to slsah all up and down her body, leaving her covered in dozens and dozens of cuts like glass. But she had taken worse, even if thise was not fun at all. She kept her eyes closed, and her mouth closed, holding her breath, seeing through the senses of the rest.

Presuming she could get a sense for where the hag was, even if only remotely, Monet would go to start to try and bombard it with telepathic jamming. A sensation of massive nausea, disorientation. Of the morass getting to one. Queasiness, tension, frustration, upsetness. Of being somewhere that was full of horrible smeling things. Things, unnatural things rotting. The bog might be one thing when it came to building up a tolerance..

But Monet made it like a stockhouse. A meat locker where everything within had been left in the heat for weeks. Monet goes to try and blast the area with as much of a twisted sensation as she can.

If she remotely could, trying to make the hag have to focus on holding in her guts and not doubling over rather than the magic.

Mary Seward has posed:
Mary's arm shrinks as the idea of a bog witch of all things trying to get the drop on her warrants a grimace from the Queen of Blood.

"Just throw me at the little hag, and I'll have her dead in no time. Sounds simple enough to me."

Blunt, but she seems confident enough to believe it.

Diana Prince has posed:
After rising back to her full height, Diana swept her hands down to her sides. She had her spear back in her right hand, and with it she swept it through the air in twirling sweeping arches. She was tracking the remaining flies within their bubble, splitting their wings with the razor sharp edges of her Amazonian weapon.

After dancing around the others within the group, her weapon buzzing in an arguably more threatening sound than the noises created by all those tiny wings, the Princess ended up near to the others once more, her boots covered in the muck of the soft earth beneath their feet.

She gripped her spear, cuts along her cheeks, arms, and thighs.

"Give me a direction," Diana said with confidence in her voice. "I will go, and find this person. I will make them see reason." She said, as she already was moving in a direction that her own senses were creating for her to zero in upon, her eyes scanning the horizon ahead, as she was poised to make a break for it any second, and by the way her body shifted from right foot to left, it was clear she was rearing, and ready to be unleashed.

Camille Russo has posed:
"Well, if this is her bog then I imagine she's already got some eyes out here, though they mighta been blown back by you with that energy. "Might be better to let her come to us, less we wanna end up lost in the Everglades til she gets bored or we manage to get un-lost." John can probably get them found if it happens, but Cam would wager the bog witch is at least passingly familiar with him if he's been out here before. "But either way I'm not too keen on splitting up."

John Constantine has posed:
Monet's mental indigestion has the desired effect, mostly. The ping ping of little crystal wings bouncing off the barrier can still be heard, but not with as much intensity. It's slowing down at least. But the fog, still thick and opaque and near impossible to see through - that alone would make continuing treacherous. Magical fog isn't pierced so easily as lighting a flashlight.

"Monet, whatever you're doing, keep it up, luv." Beneath the protection spell, there's no longer a need to shout. "Mary, can you do your bat woman impersonation? Get above this bloody fog? You'll know what you're looking for when you see it. A clearing in the fog where one shouldn't be. Get Diana there. I don't think we're actually supposed to kill her, just get past her." If not killing the bog witch is Man-Thing's wish, then it's Constantine's command. No sense in pissing that big bloke of swamp and mud.

"She ain't comin' to us, poppet, this is his way to test us, see if we're worthy and allit. This isn't her bog, it's his. Can you find me some ghostroot? Typically grows with its roots entwined around the bases of cypress trees, old ones. It'll be glowing." Maybe she already knows all about this magical plant - mostly unknown to those not 'in the know', but it never hurts to be thorough. "Get me that and I'll take care of the fog, give them a better chance once they get where they need to be."

So at least there's a plan? Kind of? It's also a /Constantine/ plan so it's about fifty fifty to go, well, as planned.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix goes to keep up the bombardment over, even as she goes to put her arms in front of her face, closing her eyes tight to make sure that she's not at risk of having them cut to ribbons. They'r a part that even healing powers have difficult with remaking. Monet goes to now start to mix it up over as the hag is probably adapting to things that are familiar. To this, Monet goes to mix it up.

Smog. Deep, overwhelming smog. Brushfires. Cities thickened with pollution where you cano nly see a few meters in front of you. Where to go outside is to have coughing spasms so hard you can barely move. Thicker and thicker. During the fire season. When the highways are packed. When it's incredibly hot. Where the air feels like suffering, gravity so great and pressing down.

Monet takes things from throughout the world, sensations and keeps on broadcasting them. Things of life which someone from an urban area would have tolerated. But for someone that's likely spent most of their existence in this magical pocket-realm of nature? Hopefully it's raw agony to be exposed to.

Mary Seward has posed:
"Fly time? Sure, I can do that." As Constantine suggests, Mary shifts her body into that of a bat's, soaring above the thick smog like a rocket piercing through the clouds.

She shifts back into her more natural look, remaining up high with her wings flapping. Now, it was time for her to put that vampiric sight and magical sense of hers to use.

"...Alright, Wicked Witch, come out where I can see you!"

Diana Prince has posed:
Diana glanced over her shoulder at the others, watching John as he began to search for that particular type of root. She glanced to Monet, and Camille too. "Be careful," she warned them both. "If they get back in, and I have to leave..." Her voice trailed off her warning there, as Mary shot up in to the sky, and Wonder Woman's eyes tracked her trajectory through the fog.

She drew in a breath, and released it softly, preparing herself. "Right... Of course." She muttered, before she too suddenly leapt upward.

Wonder Woman vanished up in to the sky, her javelin at her side, as she flew with a controlled velocity that took her up, and toward where Mary was locating this eye in the fog.

When they found it, Wonder Woman turned to glance toward Mary, offering a wordless expression, before she descended at a rapid speed toward what appeared to be a possible epicenter to this summoned swamp chaos.

Spear up, at the ready, Diana's golden lasso bounced at her hip, as her braided ponytail fluttered in the wind behind her.

She descended toward what she assumed would be the hag, and she did it with the spear tip brandished, ready... even if John wished her not to, she had to be ready for a 'hag' that would refuse to surrender with peace in her heart.

Camille Russo has posed:
"I can do that, certainly." Camille shifts to looking for the roots as well, using her machete to pull clumps free. As she does, she's also battling with shardflies and some smaller creepy-crawlies, but it doesn't take long before she's heading back to the circle, separating the plants from the entire clumps of dirt and grass she'd released from the earth. "How do you need them prepped, John?"

John Constantine has posed:
It doesn't take long at all for Mary to spot that little island in the fog, but the fog itself extends far beyond even her ability to see. Going further, or turning back, would both have ended in equally unfun results.

The shardflies are all but gone now, just a few here and there to be a nuisance by adding one more cut to the dozens there already. After a bit of time, a person almost becomes numb to it.

When Mary and Diana find the bog witch, it's really none too soon. She's almost managed to break herself free of Monet's mental grasp by whispering a spell intended to backlash all that horrible urban blight right back to her. The telepath might even begin to feel the push back.

But with Mary and Diana descending upon her, the old witch pulls back the spell. Coughing and hacking, she vomits once before she states simply, "Fastest yet to find me, he'll find you worthy for certain. Now don't hold an old witch's job against her? A peace offering as it were." She holds out a necklace pieced together with the bones of a rat, the feathers of an eagle and the dried husk of a snake. "Wear this when next you come and you'll easily pass by me."

"Stand there," John points to a spot even as he's reaching for the ghost root. A quick fumble in his pockets brings up a tiny silver bowl and something that looks like ash? He breaks off a bit of the ghostroot and grinds it together with the ash in that silver bowl. Here's to hoping that Camille closes her eyes, or she's going to have John's thumbs in them when he tries to rub the ash over her eyelids - he does the same to his own.

Does he need Camille for this spell? He'll never tell. But it's as good a start as any to begin her magical education?

"Repeat after me: Hectate, mistress of the night, shrouded in shadows, hidden from sight. Through the veil of mist and gloom, guide my path, dispell this doom. By your power, dark and deep, reveal the secrets shadows keep."

One, two, three times through and the fog begins to lift. As it does, it reveals a clear path through the swamp, a clear /dry/ path through the swamp - a clear /flat/ path through the swamp. It's as if someone's laying down the yellow brick road and all they need is follow it.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Well, this seems somewhat unusual of a request for Hectate from what little Monet knows, but she isn't exactly the one that is fluent in religion and myth. As the group goes to rendezous over with the witch seemingly cooperative for now, Monet goes to fold her arms together and keeping a passive look upon her face as opposed to her predisposition towards speaking in beatings.

She has at least some level of suspicion that when the group here is done that Mary will be heading back into the fog to debate their 'welcome' with the witch in person. And Monet almost can't help but not care if things do go that route, given her own level of temptation in the matter.

But, such thoughts are left unvoiced as her attention is over on the magic that is going on as she continues to scan the area to look for more threats. Becasue it can't just be running through a cloud of razor sharp locusts that is all that stands in thier way.

Mary Seward has posed:
Mary chuckles, as she nudges Wonder Woman's shoulder with her own. "Looks like we make a pretty great team after all." She turns around and starts walking. "...Girl power, right? You're always on about that." She walks off.She walks off to convene with the rest of the group, thankfully sparing everyone from any unnecessary noise made with the bog witch. At least for now.

Diana Prince has posed:
With Diana's boots smooshing down in to the sodden earth below, and with the sounds of the wildlife making their natural noises in the backdrop, Diana stares at the revolting Hag. She does not physically react to the woman, staring at her like she might stare at anyone else. She listens to her closely, only breaking her stare when she feels the touch to her shoulder from Mary. She doesn't verbally respond to the Vampire, and instead, she turns bag to the Hag, and steps toward her.

When that hideous necklace is offered, Diana does not reach out for it with a hand, but instead, her spear. The long silvery jagged blade of her spear comes up to hook in to the piece of gruesome jewlry, and she draws it out of the Hag's hand.

Her spear is given a skillful jostle, causing the bone, feather, and strange baubles a twirl that ties it around the golden pole of the Amazon javelin. "You are just doing your job," Diana replies to the Hag. "See to it that you do not do it in a way that harms any innocents. Or I shall return, and I shall be much less friendly."

The Princess is soon to join the others, her spear boasting a new addition wrapped around the base of its long shining tip. She looks in the revealed direction, before she looks toward Cam and John again. "This is quite a lead you have taken us on." She tells the man who loves his cigarettes.

To Monet, Diana regards her, all cut up and muddied from the swamp trek. "You're doing good, Monet. We will get you cleaned up when we get home." She tells the young woman, ever having an affection for the woman who is always putting her safety on the line for others.

Camille Russo has posed:
Her eyes shut as soon as John's fingers move towards her face, but she recites after him dutifully, pouring a little bit of conviction into her words. The path that appears gets a soft "whoa" from the witch, and she falls back in line with the group once it's indicated that it's safe for her to do so. "How's your mutation take to magic bein done on you?" Cam asks Monet. "Because I might be able to do some things that make you a little more sturdy if we team up again, but I don't want it to override what you can do naturally, y'know?"

John Constantine has posed:
"Well, you know me, luv, I throw the best parties," John replies as he lights a Silk Cut and ponders the path open in front of them. "Ladies first," he offers along with a gesture of his hand. They passed the test, he's not concerned anymore and content with falling into the back ranks.

In the Wizard of Oz, the yellow brick road led to a thing of beauty. The same cannot be said here. Man-Thing really is a monstrous sight to behold. Standing over seven feet tall, his body is composed of vegetation - algae, moss, roots and those things left behind by the swamp. The rotted wood, the slimy mold - the stench alone is horrifying. His arms are long, ending in twisted hands and long claws. His torso is massive and that face made of dangling tendrils of vegetation is one not even a mother could love. He would almost inspire pity of the sheer power radiating from him wasn't enough to knock even Strange for a loop.

But that's not the most eerie thing about him. Can a being speak without words, say a name without speaking? Man-Thing can and he 'speaks' to everyone at one time. Mental imagines and emotions are his language. He's actually proud of the for getting through his barrier, many never manage to best the witch - a rush of images of all those that have failed before them.

He knows why they're there - why wouldn't he? He's the keeper of the Nexus to all Realities - it's not as if he hasn't done this exact same thing before for another Johh, another Mary, another Diana, another Monet and another Camille. The over all effect is that of walking in a daydream fraught with emotions - images speeding by, /ideas/ being conveyed through means other than speech. Galatus - a being of 'otherness', living outside the scope of /all/ realities or from another version of them entirely. His place isn't here, his time isn't here. The worlds he chooses are those that will fulfill his need for great energies to survive. The concept is clear, yet convoluted and boils down to 'volume', be it souls or the planet's cosmic footprint. He cannot be turned from his path. He does not belong here, yet he exists here.

Getting all of that information dumped in a way not suited for the human mind? Well, it's jarring and disorienting and a little nauseating.

But the very last message conveyed in this manner is one of support. Good luck, friends. With just a hint of 'you're going to need it'.

His parting gift - a direct and clear path back to the portal that is the door to John's home.

"Bloody hell, but that's like a hangover without the fun night before, innit?" John mutters after it's all said and done.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet's face blooms in a smile over as Diana gives her praise. It's a very rare showing of emotion at the approval given. Something that almost none other than Diana ever give her. So when she has earned it, it does bring out a sparkle. It however quickly fades in the circumstances that they have more pressing things to gather. As they finish their approach towards the center of the nexus.

"I have not attempted it. My own invulnerability is.. Sufficient for such things as those had been." Waving a hand in a vague indicative of the glass-weevils. "I appreciat the offer and am sure it would have tactical use. However, I would want to train some first and also in the field it might be better reserved for those who are more vulnerable. But thank you. I would be willing to work with you on it, if you would like sometime. We can discuss the details later." Reminding herselfw hile talking to Camille over to be appreciative and take the offer at face value, not snap at her defensively or go on as to how unnecessary it was.

Then they have the Man-Thing. Which has Monet's face contort at. There is something unnatural about it. A mutation, an alteration born of magic and being at this central nexus, this gateway? Fortunately as a telepath at least she's good when it comes to translating concepts, emotions, and avatars presented in almost evocative anarchy and imagery to something comprehensible, even though this takes her some moments and focus, and the passage being magical in nature means some of it is lost.

Her brow furrows in concentration as she tries not to lose any of it while holding herself solidly and taking in a few breaths.

However, they now knew where Florida Man had originated from.

Mary Seward has posed:
Mary's skull feels its pounding as she brings her hand to her forehead. Such a bombardment of information, back to back with no time to breathe. Even for the mind of an immortal, it was much to take in at once.

"Thanks, John." She shakes her head. "You brought me all the way over to the middle of a swamp for an aneurysm. Clearly, Mary isn't entirely positive on her first time fighting along the side of angels for once. She definitely prefers the Brotherhood.

Diana Prince has posed:
The necklace had gently rocked against the tip of the Amazonian javelin, as the group proceeded on toward their main goal. Diana had planted it firmly within the soft ground, standing beside Monet, as she stared at the source of the information that they had come for.

With the fog of the bog rolling across the ground in lazy tendrils, like misty fingers roaming over their ankles, Diana glanced toward her companions, and showed another faint expression of grim feelings toward this situation.

When he began to pour information through mental connections, Diana's mind was able to bear it better than most, but she still had her lashes flutter for a moment, as she began to suss out the information sweeping through her mental thoughts.

When her eyes focused again, the Princess took a simple step forward, and drew in a breaeth, her muddied armor rising against her chest as she softly shook her head.

She had much to say, the thoughts of what all had just been told giving her many reactions. That Galactus was somehow necessary for the maintenance of the galaxy? Or perhaps something beyond it. That Earth had some power that he needed, when there were countless other worlds that were undoubtedly just as valuable for him. She couldn't simply settle for this, and though th Man Thing may not be her valid source for the feelings she was experiencing, something would be soon, and that something would be sorry.

"This, certainly was an experience." Diana had told the others, her eyes going toward Mary for another brief moment.

Camille Russo has posed:
Cam's magic deals in translating images and symbols into tools of protection and defense, so while Man-Thing's conveyance does make her stomach roil at how very alien it is to the way she thinks, it leaves her merely staggering after, the roiling slowly settling into something calmer. Much like getting off a particularly violent roller coaster.

She nods carefully at Monet's reply. "Generally what I offer in the field is just... a little bit better dodging, mostly. I can't draw a shield for everyone, but I can make it a little more likely for them to move in the best direction, to duck or dodge in time. A minor boost to your own abilities. Like that, it's a fairly low draw on me, although if I don't have the right pen on me it's more likely to fade or smear into non-working mid-battle."

John Constantine has posed:
John? Well he's looking a little worse for wear, his face bleeding so that he has to continually wipe at cuts on his forehead to keep the blood from rolling into his eyes. He's a little pale, kind of sickly looking - but isn't that part just the way he always looks.

"Not sure what all that meant in the grand scheme of stoppin' this wanker from eating earth like it's a juicy red apple, but it /was/ definitely an experience.

"I have a bottle of scotch with my name on it and a comfy chair. "You lot be good now." - or at least have fun being bad?

But before they all part ways, he grabs Diana gently by the arm and says, "We need to have that tea, yeah?" ...and a lot of chin wagging over this Galactus rubbish.

"Anyone needs me in the next forty-eight, drop a note in the comments box on the bar in the Laughing Magician."

A thing out of place, out of time, that doesn't really belong. Maybe John Constantine has a little more in common with this Galactus than he thought. Of course the place he's supposed to be in is Hell - so he'll take it.

Mary Seward has posed:
Mary is wll aware that the 'Have Fun being bad' was meant for her. She'll except it nonetheless. Before she heads off though, she notices Wonder Woman's eye still on her. Not one to leave without doing something memorable, she turns to Diana, making a quick kissy-face, and mimes a phone with her hand.

"Call me..." She makes one last remark to get under that Amazonian skin before flying off once again.

Diana Prince has posed:
The trinket attached to Diana's spear was given one more glance, before she lowered it down to her side. She looked to John, when he took her scratched up arm-- the scratches already rapidly healing again. A simple nod was given to the man, a long standing understanding existing between the two. Diana had championed the creation of the Justice League Dark, at John's behest, several years ago. She had seen merit in flourishing this side of the JLA's efforts in helping the world, and as far as she was concerned it had been nothing but a success thus far, in no small part due to John's efforts, even if they are laced in cig smoke and alcoholic tinctures.

"I will reach out." She simply tells him, before she looks toward Mary making that final taunting gesture. She just gently shook her head at it, and released a soft exhale.

To Cam, Diana offred her a nod. "It was a pleasure to work with you. Should you ever need my help, simply reach out to the Themysciran Embassy, and I will do everything I can to provide it." She showed /her/ a soft smile, that came and went quickly.

In the sky, not all that far off from where Mary had shot off to, there came a shimmering shine in the sky, before the aesthetically gorgeous view of an artistically shaped alien plane appeared. Diana's invisible jet. A dagger-like shape, just hovering in the sky, with its ramp extending out from its cloud-like hull.

The jet silently landed, two Amazonians striding down said ramp, each clad in gold armor, red cloaks, and archery equipment mounted on their backs.

To Monet, Diana nodded toward their vehicle. "Get aboard, get looked at, and well done." She tells the young French woman.

"I'll be out here a little longer... I wish to... take a bit more of this place in, before we leave."