11012/The Happy Bubble Hellmouth

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The Happy Bubble Hellmouth
Date of Scene: 15 May 2022
Location: Happy Bubble Laundromat, Hell's Kitchen NYC
Synopsis: Phoebe brings in Tim Drake, Gabby Kinney and Austin Reese to help her close a gate to Hell. She gives them all the gravity of the situation.

The demons are surprisingly easy to dismiss, though Phoebe appears to have taken damage that she's not healing.

Tim finds a way to get 'a head' of the issue. Gabby finds the way to a demon's insides is weirdly through its stomach. Reese finds out what a Hell Accordian sounds like

Cast of Characters: Phoebe Beacon, Tim Drake, Gabby Kinney, Austin Reese




Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    THE HAPPY BUBBLE laundromat on 52nd avenue in Clinton -- better known as Hell's Kitchen -- has had a bad history with Phoebe Beacon-Chandler-Constantine-Wayne-Sabry. Dolmozor the Clean. Magoth the Effervesent. And now Phoebe, after work and traveling back and forth, is trying to close the gate that allowed the two very minor demons who managed to possess a washer and a coke machine, respectively.

    The coke machine was long repaired and refilled and its motor hums in the back next to some folding chairs and laundry baskets and single-serve TIDE and BUBBLE brand laundry detergent vending machines (a dollar in quarters for each one).

    Phoebe herself has her leather go-bag, a pair of heavy boots and is dressed in ripped jeans and a T-shirt that promotes a band called Major Arcana, her legs swinning as she sits on an industrial washer thumbing through an occult magazine. Her hair is now braided neatly and pulled back into a loose bun of braids, her lips pursed, one earbud in.

    The place otherwise looks very normal, either wall has two-stacked dryers in it, the front and back walls have single-stacked washers, and in the middle is a bank of larger washers back-to-back. There is a door marked 'STORAGE' that is propped open with an open folding chair.

Tim Drake has posed:
    The sight of a Rolls-Royce Phantom is probably not a common one in Hell's Kitchen, but one idles on the curb outside of the Happy Bubble laundromat, so sleek and shiny that it seems to repel the very concept of dirt from itself. It's a few minutes before Tim emerges from it, hustling out with the kind of swiftness necessary to discourage the Wayne family butler from trying to come around and open the door himself.

    Alfred is left to his own devices for the afternoon, pulling away as Tim waves over his shoulder as he makes for the laundromat's front door.

    As Tim steps inside, he slings the long poster tube off his shoulder so that he can work himself free of his jacket. Both get piled onto one of the folding chairs, and then he puts his hands on his hips as he surveys the area.

    It's a long moment before he announces, "...Yeah, I would have no idea one way or another if this place is mega-haunted or whatever."

Gabby Kinney has posed:
It was New York. There were several ways to get around in New York and cars was not necessarily the only one. Nor motorcycles. Naw. If you wanted to fit in you did what everyone does and grab the subway. Especially in Hell's Kitchen. Because then you can also grab a slice from one of the many corner joints on your way to the laundromat.

Gabby ducks in just after Tim carrying a box with her. Just because she'd been on a pizza kick lately, really, and passing Gino's (the second not the original) was just too good to pass up.

"I got magharita," she assures while finding a spot to place the box. With two vegetarian teammates here she was trying to be good with things. Plus it was a tasty slice regardless. "So should we put up some out of order signs on the door or what's the game plan?" She asks looking from Tim to Phoebe questioningly. It was Phoebe's area of expertise after all.

Austin Reese has posed:
Austin has moved near the soda machine that has been repaired and replaced after arriving, "So what exactly is causing these things to come in here?" He asks, as he grabs a Dr. Pepper from the machine, "All you told me is that demons were showing up here for some reason. You didn't exactly give me much in the way of why." He pops open the drink and takes a long sip from it, "Can I even fight demons? Do demons respond to punching?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe gives a cheery wave to Alfred as he drives off -- she made her way earlier in the day. Had to check on another supernatural being in the local vicinity. "The idea is that it should be quick. I needed a nother couple bodies for a seance, close up the portal, and out. But the portal's in the basement. Shouldn't need to do more than turn the open sign off and lock the front door." Phoebe answers from atop the washer she had taken up her perch on. She breathes out.

    "Story goes I've had two encounters here with demons -- both relatively minor pains in the asses. They're easier to take on than the Angels -- most of them are made of baser stuff. Mud and fire and the like. The real minor ones can possess people -- provided you're really, really itchin' for something to take up space. Mostly people who don't have much in the way of wills --" Phoebe gives a toothy grin, looking at her assorted friends. "I don't think any of us have *that* problem."

    She hops off her counter, and she rattles around in her go-bag.

    "Is that what I think it might be, Tim?" she asks, over her shoulder, as she takes out a pair of weird, scaley-looking leather gloves and offers them to Austin.

    "I'll need these back when we're done here. This is 'just in case it's bigger than a breadbox'. Ordinarily you wouldn't need them to punch out minor ones. The way I've got things set up they should be weakened if they try to come through the gate." she explains, and then looks to Gabby.

    "You are *not* allowed to sell any part of you on this trip." she states to the other teen, eyes narrowing a moment. "I don't want to deal with Rien."

    "That pretty well goes for everyone. Demon might offer you something you want in order to get entrance. Don't let them. Don't give them your name -- and whatever you do, if I start calling out for my dad -- Do Not Let Me Go." she states grimly, and with that she leads the way into the basement.

    The stairs are old, wood, and don't have much in the way of railings.

    THe basement is dark, light buy a couple of forty-watt bulbs on pullchains. It has a concrete floor with a grate in the middle. There's some boxes of spare aprts shoved to one side, some old. There's an ancient 1950's era fridge that is taped shut with two rolls of duct tape.

    And in the middle of the room there is an intricately traced magical circle. It's more work than Phoebe's portal circles, traced with Latin, Arabic, and Egyptian symbols and phrases, calling for protection.

    Tim might be able to recognize Sandalphon's name and subcircle. Phoebe's drawn it up before.

Tim Drake has posed:
    As Phoebe gives the introductory spiel, Tim props first one foot and then the other up on an empty chair seat to check the laces of his shoes. "I shouldn't," he says in Gabby's direction, though he immediately heads over to the pizza box to snag a slice.

    He has no reply to the question of what's in the tube. All he does is lift his eyebrows and put on a purposefully insincere look of innocence. It's certainly not a cursed sword gifted to him by one of the Zataras, oh no.

    Except it definitely is, because as Tim's still scarfing down on pizza, he twists open the tube's cap and pulls out a medieval-style sword, still in its scabbard.

    "Basically 'don't acknowledge the demon's presence except to combo it'." He nods to show he understands, and then flashes a concerned look at Phoebe at mention of her dad. Though he says nothing to it, only nodding once more.

    On the trip down the stairs to the basement, Tim tucks the sword under his arm so he can pull on a pair of gloves that he retrieved from an inside pocket of his jacket. Not magical like Austin's, though. Just good for gripping. Which he tests out on the hilt of the sword as he draws it free.

Gabby Kinney has posed:
Gabby Kinney holds up both hands in a 'nope we okay' gesture when Phoebe turns her attention to her with such a remark. "I didn't SELL my soul, I bartered it and anyway that was years ago. And not the whole soul," she adds mumbling beneath her breath. "Plus we had supervision." Glancing away she clears her throat lightly, and drops her hands down by her sides again. The gloves that had been handed over to Austin are given an appreciative nod.

"If anything needs sliced or stabbed, I'm good there. Newly enhanced, too," she adds in a way that was meant to be reassuring. She turns to snag a slice out of the box before following Phoebe down, though, and folds it up proper New York style to munch on quickly.

Glancing around down in the basement she gives a soft 'huh.' "Did you prep this beforehand, or is this where we go 'Oh so THAT'S why shit happens'?"

Austin Reese has posed:
Austin takes the offered gloves, and puts them on, "Not bad.." He of course follows Phoebe on down into the basement along with the others in the group, "Can we sell other people's body parts and/or souls?" He asks, though it's very clear that it's a joke.

Down in the basement proper, he frowns at the runes on the ground, "What she said." He jerks a thumb in Gabby's direction, "If this is one of your's it looks weird and if it's not one of your's then how the hell did it get here?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe gives a Purposeful look back at Tim, and she rubs her left shoulder. That's all the confirmation he gets before Phoebe leads the way down. "This one is definitely mine." Phoebe replies, motioning around the carefully etched circle. "I got here early specifically to set up without any gristley distractions." she explains as she sets some candles in place.

    "The one on the ceiling's the one we should be concerned about.

    And true to her words, if they look up there is a dull red circle inscribed. It hurts to look at, its geometry is weird. The dull red seems to fade in and out of the long grayed-over white paint above them.

    "That's what I was concerned about. Someone purposefully inscribed a gate. Luckily, it's minor. It probably doesn't let much in or out, which explains why the two possessions are few and far between, and why we were able to take care of them relatively quick." she replies, and breathes out.

    Candles in place, one by one they begin to light themselves, the warm beeswax filling the area with the smell of juniper and sharp citrus quickly.

    The circle above them glows a little. The circle below echoes and gives a low, slow pulsing pattern.

Tim Drake has posed:
    Tim finds an unoccupied corner of the basement to camp out in for a few moments, just so that he can give the sword a few testing swings back and forth. It's not his weapon of choice by a longshot -- bladed weapons in general aren't -- but it's the only one he has easy access to that can cause any real damage to things of magical or demonic origin.

    Well, it does a hell of a job (pun intended) on angelic beings too, but here's to hoping that's all over and done with.

    "Why even bother with that, though? Like, at a laundromat? I don't know if there's some significance I'm missing here, but of all the places you could pick..."

    All the while, he's doing his best to take careful glimpses out of his peripheral vision at the dull red enscryption on the ceiling above.

Austin Reese has posed:
"So like, I am curious about something." Austin says, as he sets himself up on a side of the circle and throws a few shadow boxing punches to test the gloves out and make sure they're not going to restrict movement or anything, "I know there are bad angels. But are there good demons? Like what're the chances one is gonna pop out of here and want to give us cake and ice cream?"

Gabby Kinney has posed:
"Maybe it wasn't always a laundromat. Or maybe it connects to some kind of... Ley line... thing. Like in Ghostbusters," Gabby suggests while she glances up at the ceiling and just stares. Squints. And continues to stare. Even though it felt like her eyes might water and they just wanted to dart away she stares long enough that she starts to get after images in her vision before she finally shakes her head.

"Of course there are. I've known a few that weren't so bad, and the Queen of Limbo as well. She's pretty cool." Rubbing at her eyes a time or two she thinks. "I mean I think it's just that every morality is different, and the longer you live the more different it gets."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Would you expect a portal to Hell to be under a laundromat?" Phoebe gives a wry smile, and then a little more of a grim look.

    "We're only a block away from where The Laughing Magician bar was. I used to come here to do Chas and my laundry and occasionally my mentor's." she states, giving one by name and the second just by mention. She looks to Austin, and then looks down. "This isn't a case of a Fallen Angel; and most demons I've encountered aren't nice. They flay the skin off sinners in Hell, tie them down to tables where your eyes are forced to see your insides peeled out one by one. They burn y our tongue with white-hot pincers and swim in rotting, putrified pools of human viscera. Tie you with red chains to the banks rivers of lava where your genitals are roasted to crispiness, and then repair you so you can go through it again, and again." Phoebe recounts quietly "They can give you anything you want in exchange for your soul. Make others love you. Fame and fortune. Restore a loved one from the dead, cure diseases in miraculous ways -- always for a price. Fear and suffering and the consumption of all that is good inside of you." Phoebe recounts, and then she sinks down, sitting cross-legged on the edge of the circle, and motions for everyone to do the same.

    "The first demon I banished was one who wanted to clean New York of all its pollutants, including exhaled breath. He would have caused untold death by causing others to cease breathing. The second wanted to capture Zatanna and parade her in Hell."

    And she breathes out, and brings her hands up. She doesn't have her knife, but she does ignite an incense braizer.

    It smells like Death.

    "So I don't think we're getting cake and ice cream this round."

Tim Drake has posed:
    There's little for Tim to say about the mystical significance (or lack thereof). The rules of all things dark arts seem to be summarized by "there are no rules" so he's entirely lost.

    But he has a sword, and lost or not, he's still capable of using it.

    "Guessing none of us will be wanting cake and ice cream after this anyway," he somehow manages to quip despite the stomach-roiling stink that begins to fill the basement. And he even says it with a straight face!

Austin Reese has posed:
Austin makes a gagging sound as the burner lights up, and covers his mouth with one of those gloved hands, "Should have warned me to bring a rebreather." He says, with a frown behind his hand cover his mouth and nose, "Makes me want to start rocking a fully enclosed helmet." He actually has to turn away and try his best to keep himself from throwing up. Guess his stomach hasn't quite gotten as strong as the others yet.

Gabby Kinney has posed:
That was probably the worst time ever to take a bite of pizza. When the braizer ignites filling the room with that pungent odor, Gabby doubles over choking on the slice. It's dropped to the floor entirely as she whirls around to the corner where she slams her hands against the wall to just retch several times. A hacking cough finishes off before she feels even vaguely in control enough to step away.

Only to pause, and lean against the wall again still not looking back.

"Wa...arning next time," she utters while taking a swipe at her mouth with the back of her hand. Ugh. She was never going to get used to the enhanced olfactory senses.

Finally feeling as if she can at least keep herself from outright dying she turns around again, eyes teared up a little bit. Looking a bit wobbly she offers a weak, "Sorry. Nose issues," to the group. At least she'd come prepared in some small way as she pulls a bandana out from a pocket to wrap around her lower face because this was apparently something she was finding necessary at times. "M'good."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "On the contrary. If we all survive, I'm treating." Phoebe remarks "Hard to fight demons on an empty stomach, and there's nothing like having candy afterwards." she states, trying to add levity. It probably doesn't work.

    And the best rules for the Dark Arts: Don't.

    The candles are lit, the insence floats around them. A feeling of dread may settle over the area as Phoebe takes a deep breath.

    "Quatuor in hoc profano cellario coniungimus ad claudendum quod consulto apertum est. Haec porta ad inferos, haec via ad inferos claudi debet." she states, and she looks upwards to the gate.

    "Duat eneth Heka. Thohrrim anakaris hariuminek." she breathes out.

    And all at once, the candles go out. THere is a moment of the deepest blackness.

    And when the lights turn back on, the four have changed places; the white circle Phoebe enscribed is below them, along with all the candles, their nubs burning down as if time had passed, hours.

    Instead, the four are now within the red circle. The temperature begins to climb. There is a hissing sound, like thousands of cats all coming to bare teeth and claws at them at once. It echoes, deepening into the sounds howling words and the tolling of bells, warped and reversed. Pressure climbs, feeling like being drug into deep water.

Tim Drake has posed:
    It's definitely bothering Tim, the smell. He has plenty of experience around corpses but he's still human; he just has a hell of a poker face thanks to dear old dad. So the sympathetic look he aims towards first Austin, and then more seriously at Gabby as she retches, is genuine.

    "I'll set up some exposure therapy for you," he says. "I know just the place."

    Is it that announcement or Phoebe's chanting that is more ominous? Who's to know, really. Either way, Tim's foot slides against the floor as he shifts his weight into a ready stance, sword held in a defensive block before him. The lights flicker out and he doesn't make a sound within the darkness, not so much as a breath. Only the beating of his heart, which he hears as blood rushing through his ears.

    Then they're on the ceiling. Or the floor is now the ceiling. Either way, Tim hazards a look left, a look right, confirming that the others are okay (relatively speaking) before he asks, "We worried about things coming from outside the circle, or in?"

    AKA: which direction should he point the sword?

Austin Reese has posed:
After a few moments, Austin exhales and then steadies himself, as he rises back up to an upright position and readies his feet. Just in time too, because soon things have gotten weird. He feels like he's been thrown through a loop, but now inside of the circle, he pulls his hands up to prep himself to fight whatever it is that comes on out, "On your lead." He says to Phoebe. All she has to do is point him the way she wants him to go and let him loose.

Gabby Kinney has posed:
Exposure therapy. Gabby doesn't even bother to think about that other than to state, "I hate you already. Buy me dinner first." It's as best a joke as she can get out given the circumstance. The bandana was helping enough to let her focus on the matter at hand. Mostly because she'd soaked it in some nice fresh laundry smelling Downy. Man that was the best.

Though the light of the candles and the glowing circle were there, she adds to the light in an unexpected way. The familiar skkt of her claws breaking through the skin on the back of her hands sounds out, and there where her claws extend, was the pale silver-blue glow one might expect of a full moon.

With that she nods, tilting her head toward Tim in agreement with his statement. "Good question, point us where. Also assuming the standard 'don't cross the circle' rules count."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe cannot lead at the moment.

    There's an unsteady "TiiIiiIiim?" sound in Phoebe's voice, though, coming from above them, beyond them.

    The dark presses close, pressuring the other young people as whispers start errupting all around them. Different languages, hissing voices. Faces just beyond the reach of the light, indistinct.

    And a pair of long, clawed arms reach out, claws glistening onyx in the dark and red of the Hellgate circle and try to grab at Tim's shoulders.

    The Little Mageling brought friends!

Tim Drake has posed:
    The lack of Phoebe is noted with a muttered "Crap," and then Tim takes a half-step backwards, closing the gap between himself and the two remaining. He doesn't look towards Austin and Gabby again, having to trust that they'll keep their backs facing inwards. Not the same amount of security as a four-man team watching the cardinal directions, but better than nothing.

    "Peebs, you out there?" he calls out. "What's the plan?"

    The whispers, the glimpses, shadowy things moving beyond his line of sight. Part of Tim wishes he had his domino mask on; the rest of him is certain even top of the line nightvision wouldn't help him here.

    Maybe he's better off not seeing what's out there.

    Arms outstretch towards him and Tim, leveraging training to react with action instead of emotion. There'll be a time and place for him to freak out about this later. For now, the blade of the cursed sword in his hands slices through the air, trying to cut off the hands trying to snatch at him.

Austin Reese has posed:
"Aw hell." Austin shifts positions when Tim does, knowing he'll need to cover a larger area now. He's starting to wish he'd come in his gear instead of street clothes. Thermals would be useful right now.

Austin adjusts his stance a little bit, spotting the movement near Tim out of his peripheral, "Six O'clock!" He calls out, though it seems Tim is already swinging that sword around and lopping away at those hands, "Everybody watch your backs."

Gabby Kinney has posed:
Gabby Kinney tenses when those arms come out aiming for Tim. It was hard to miss the sight of it along with the ominous voice talking of the mageling. "Get the feeling this is a trap?" Though her instincts tell her to jump over and help Tim she holds herself in reserver inching closer none the less.

She had NO idea what that sword did, nor had she seen Tim use a sword before. While he was capable she knew better than to get in between someone with a weapon they weren't familiar with entirely.

Darting her eyes around she keeps as much a watch on things as she can trying meanwhile to risk a sniff through the bandana to see if she could locate Phoebe by scent if nothing else.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    The sword slices, dices, and there's a screech as the arms pull backwards!

    Oooh. That one has teeth!

    They ALL have teeth! the first voice snarls.

    You cannot expect her to bring along unworthy sacrifices~. a deeper, masculine voice echoes. It hisses, sounding like it's being said through too many teeth.

    The darkness surrounding them seems to solidify, as if a wall of glass goes up around them.

    And Phoebe's eyes clear -- but she slumps forward, and begins to retch.

Tim Drake has posed:
    "Don't respond to them," Tim warns as he what he can only guess are demonic entities begin to chatter beyond the circumference of the circle. He tries to tilt his head to get a better read on where the next attack might come from based on sound, but there's way too much interference. Too many whispers, too much movement.

    When he hears Phoebe retching, he doesn't look up(?), as much as he wants to. But it's a good sign. Anything at this point is a good sign, so he calls out, "I'll get you a mint later, Peebs."

    His grip on the sword's hilt shifts, adjusts. "But right now I'd really like to not be stuck in this magic circle any more!"

Gabby Kinney has posed:
"Not a problem there. It's not like they're saying anything worth responding to anyway," Gabby assures while she risks the quickest of glances up--Or was it down?--to the other portal where Phoebe was presumably getting sick. "I wonder if you can barf on the demons though."

Odd thought aside she takes a deep breath through her mouth so as to not feel ill herself. Claws still out at her side at the ready, fists clenched, she watches for signs of movement in the darkness. Just in case she had to strike quickly.

"Wait. Is it a bad thing she said part of your name?" Oh shoot.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Wasn't me who was talking." Phoebe breathes out, and she swallows, then tilts her head back. "And there is nothing I would rather do than get us all out of this circle. There was an inversion I didn't count on." she states, and she sits up a little more, wincing.

    Phoebe has an obvious black eye, her right eye is swollen and she's got a split lip. She spits to the side of her, and she leans ehr head back a moment to take a deep breath.

    "I just need a minute, think this through. Right now, we're in a fishbowl. There are eight presences in the direct area. Us four. Three out there, and one that I'm not sure of yet." she breathes out. "I drop the ward, the three come in. You'll have to take them on while I close up the whole shebang." she states, touching her lip and wincing.

    "Good news is I know what their plan is."

Tim Drake has posed:
    "An inversion," Tim repeats. Then his head tips to the side. Yeah, makes sense. His eyes skim past the boundary of the circle, but there's no use. Even as a Bat, his eyesight is all human. 20/20, but still. Limited.

    As the situation is laid out for them, he clicks his tongue. Specifically at mention of the unknown eighth presence that Phoebe hasn't yet identified. An outlier, a variable that hasn't been accounted for yet. Not something Tim likes. But he exhales all the air from his lungs in a steady breath and nods. Which possibly goes unseen, so he adds a quick, "Yeah. One-on-one. Ready to slice and dice."

Austin Reese has posed:
Austin has been doing his best to remain stoic and act unphased, though he definitely keeps checking on Tim and Gabby to make sure they're still behind him. Hearing Phoebe having snapped out of it, he finally speaks up, "I'm ready to go when you say the word." He continues to not respond to anything said by the creatures. He knows he can trust the other two, it's himself he isn't sure about.

Gabby Kinney has posed:
"Does that mean it's inside out? I mean. Okay you know what I'm not going to try to figure out the science behind magic or whatever," Gabby decides with a quick side to side roll of her neack that might earn some pops and cracks if she were anyone else. Ah, the benefits of a healing factor.

"I'm here as brawn and I'm okay with that. ... Maybe I should start bench pressing. Later. Ready when you are P-dawg." Okay she'd have to work on her nicknames.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Kind of. The latin on their circle was changed out. That's what I get for learning Scouse." Phoebe mutters, and she braces herself a moment, and she looks to Tim -- who she trusts more than anyone in the world. Anyone.

    To Austin, who she tried to convince out of the life once. And she dragged him here.

    And to Gabby, ready to start in on slash and crash. ANd she bites her lower lip.

    She breathes in.

    "When I drop the ward, I can start reversing the process." she states, and she begins to glow, rose-gold tracing along her veins as she steadies herself. "Once they realize what I'm doing, they may refocus. And I'm not sure about the eighth one out there. It's blocked." she remarks quietly.

    And then Phoebe begins to cast, murmured words in Old Tongues. The fishbowl drops, and with it, Phoebe's light illuminates the area.

    The one-armed demon is red. Its ears are oversized and pointed; it has buldging eyes and its arms were both long enough to drag along the ground -- until Tim cut one short.

    The one creeping up on Gabby is orange. It has no eyes, but does h ave deep pits where its eyes would be. Its mouth is full of dull, grinding teeth stained the color of ichor. Its four arms are shorter, but each is tipped with a long hand and longer claws, like scythes.

    And then the one garbed in blue. It looks like something out of a cartoon; its mouth is wide. Its pointed teeth are linked together like accordian folds, and its eyes are bulbous and black. It has no legs, just a slug-like tail, and its arms are built like that of a wrestler.

    And they all close in to attack their targets!

Tim Drake has posed:
    Well, red's his color. And if he's responsible for taking off the other arm, it seems appropriate that Tim continues the fight. He lunges forward, like a fencer, but his sword isn't the kind meant for thrusting attacks.

    It's just a ruse. Because Tim uses that forward momentum to sweep himself into a roll as he sidesteps around, to the opening provided by the demon's lack of arm. Honestly, he couldn't have planned that better if he tries.

    Demons are in the same bin as angels. Extradimensional beings who are exempt from the No-Kill clause. There's probably some justification in there about how they're not really killing, just banishing... or maybe it's that they aren't alive in the first place, and it doesn't count because of that?

    Either way Tim pops up from his roll and spins, putting the weight of his entire body behind the sword as he swings it around to try and take the demon's head off.

Austin Reese has posed:
As soon as the demons make their appearances, Austin launches himself forward. He knows the blue demon is planning to strike and doesn't intend on giving it the chance. He immediately launches forward with a haymaker punch with one of those gloved hands, aiming to hit the demon right in it's big bulbous eye with that flying haymaker in order to throw it off with the opening strike.

Gabby Kinney has posed:
It doesn't take long. The warning was there that the 'bubble' would drop and Gabby was well prepared for it. Not knowing what to expect she tucks down into a smaller target only to launch herself at the big orange tooth gnashy fellow. She's quick, and moves to get in close beneath it in the hopes of avoiding the reach of those arms to begin with.

And as she does so her arm swings back to slash out intending to and aiming to rip open the belly of the beast quite literally. Even if it meant that a good chunk of it may fall ontop of her--It wouldn't be the first time she had to claw her way out of something though the eldritch beast from Atlantis was probably less icky in retrospect.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    The three demons attack, thinking that these 'poor, normal humans' were going to be easy prey -- the Red One was not counting on Tim's fighting prowess. After all, he's even more normal human that the others, wasn't he? It snarls, turning, trying to beat the blow coming from Tim -- and its movement was both too quick to contend with TIm's feint, and too slow to contend with Tim's pop-and-spin. The cursed sword happily claims the demon's head. There's a loud sound like something sucking wind, and the body appears to use it s remaining good arm to feel for its missing extension before it disintegrates!

    Austin's strike against the blue demon goes very well. Those gloves that Phoebe gave him strike, and magnify his blow. The wind is knocked out of the blue demon with the sound of an accordian folding tunelessly, its bulbous eye snapping with the sound of a popped bubble of gum, except far, far more juicy and disgusting. It snarls and howls, but it too distintegrates after the blow is dealt.

    The orange demon, on the third hand -- so many hands -- seems a bit more wary of the situation -- it had paused to slip to the side, its swollen stomach offering the perfect target for Gabby's claws as she gets in range on the quick. The slash rips out the belly, it feels like passing through rotting meat (and smells a bit like it too), but the creature gives a snarl, stumbling backwards.

    "Betrayed! She's betrayed you all!" it snarls, withdrawing a little bit, before it too disintegrates into nothing.

    The room rotates again, this time with a snap like a rubber band.

    They find themselves on the floor, i n Phoebe's circle. Phoebe herself is on her knees. There is blood and chalk. The brazer has been knocked over.

    But the red circle on the ceiling is gone.

Tim Drake has posed:
    The whole thing would be comical if it weren't so disgusting. Tim's got the stomach to handle murder scenes but it's a little different when you yourself are doing the murdering. Except it doesn't count as murder. Right. The cognitive dissonance of it all is probably the worst bit, and given the stench... that's saying something.

    He doesn't expect taking the head off the demon to be enough solely because he has no idea how these things work, so best not to expect anything. So Tim is still holding the sword in front of him, ready for a follow-up attack.

    And then it clatters to the ground -- along with Tim himself -- when the rubber band snaps and the inversion reverts back to... outversion? He rolls onto his back as he scrambles for the hilt of the sword, gripping hold just in time to bring it up in front of him for a strike that doesn't come.

    "...So, are we good?" he asks, after a pause.

Gabby Kinney has posed:
Gabby Kinney kneels on the floor with her hands planted flat as she finds herself very, very VERY glad she had the bandana around her nose and mouth. Because EW. She was soaked in ichor and ick that she didn't want to think about overly much. Weakly lifting a hand to give a thumbs up she utters, "Hose me off please for the love of Mickey Mouse. But yeah I'm good."

Austin Reese has posed:
Austin is actually surprised how much the glove enhances the strike, and is even more surprised as the demon pops like a bubble from the hit! He finds himself covered in goo, blocking some of it with his hands trying to get it from splashing into his face. Just in time too. He hears the voice calling out to them, but thankfully it seems that Phoebe has gotten the spell reversed, and they're all back on the ground.

This time he actually just lays there for a moment, covered in goo, "Ugh.." He lays there, looking up at the now blank spot on the ceiling, "I think we got it. We didn't cross the streams did we?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe flops down to her back. She raises her hand, and mutters out: "Munda vestimenta comae"

    And her arm flops down. All the Goo is removed, lifts, and turns to ash. The place already smells better.

    And she begins to laugh. Laugh until she's crying, and then crosses her left arm over her eyes so that no one can see she's crying.

    "We did it, guys. We did it. It's closed. Happy Bubble has no further demon issues."

Tim Drake has posed:
    "Oh, great. Good. Great job, team." The sword returns to the floor, though without the clatter this time around. And Tim lays there, staring up at the ceiling. Now without the demonic hellmouth summoning circle enscryption... thing. Whatever it was, it's gone, and Tim is pretty sure that was the whole point of this meeting. Aside for getting NY pizza, which is the only reason Tim comes to New York.

    Though... maybe they should wait on the pizza.