11949/The Last Archivist: Connected

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The Last Archivist: Connected
Date of Scene: 24 July 2022
Location: The Astral Plane near Oxford, England
Synopsis: The finale of The Last Archivist sees the Justice League Dark face off against Asag, an Old God that is trying to force its way into the world. Its goal: to kill Jon and thus force his daughter to become Archivist, so she can be manipulated by Asag's followers into destroying the world. To prevent that from ever happening, Jon claims the Archive for his own--he will be the last Archivist. The JLD defeat the Old God, and chain it away from reality once more, but at a price--Jon and Annabelle Cane wind up outside of reality, and it may be some time before he can find his way home...
Cast of Characters: Jonathan Sims, Cael Becker, Rien D'Arqueness, Chas Chandler, Balder, Robbie Reyes, Lydia Dietrich




Jonathan Sims has posed:
    There is a hole in the world.

    It's nothing that can be /seen/ on the physical plane, but here in the Astral it's obvious, a gaping chasm the size of an aircraft hangar door. It's the sort of thing someone ought to have noticed; there are those who keep an eye on these things, and one would think they'd have noticed the gaping tear in the fabric of reality situated generally over a suburban neighborhood in Oxford, England. Perhaps it's been overlooked because it wasn't quite so wide even just a couple of weeks ago. Perhaps it's because the tear is most obvious in the Astral Plane.

    Or perhaps it's because the crack is covered in webbing, a sticky suture on the wound, straining to keep the rupture from going any wider.

    Those from the Justice League Dark that have traveled to confront Annabelle Cane, servant of the Old Ones (and Jonathan Sims' childhood friend) arrive through a portal some ways away from the opening, on a hill overlooking the chasm. Oxford University has been there long enough to have a reflection on the Astral Plane, and so the land around is gently sloped river basin, mostly open fields dotted with copses, but with ancient buildings scattered about here and there, as if the oldest university in the English-speaking world were surrounded only by pastoral greenery.

    There is a Black woman standing before the crack, arms raised, connected to the webbing across the crack by strands that are attached to each finger. Her hair is bleached blonde, one side of her head covered over with webbing. She wears a leather jacket over a purple-and-black striped shirt, black skirt, purple leggings, heeled boots covered in straps that, along with her natural height, make her about six feet tall.

    "Annabelle!" the Archivist has come in his superhero outfit, teal with blue and gold accents, Egyptian-themed, and he's already taken on Ma'at's power so he bears wings and a circlet with the feather. He's carrying his ankh-topped staff rather than his sword; he doesn't want to kill his friend unless he must. "We're here! This /is/ what you wanted, right? The grand confrontation with witnesses and so on?"

    "You know me," the woman calls back without turning away from what she's doing. Weaving, maybe? "Have to give the audience what they want. We both should've been theatre majors instead of psych, we're /such/ drama queens." She flicks a glance over at the group. "Did you actually bring a /god/ with you? I'm flattered you think I'm that big of a threat."

    Jon sighs, and glances to the others. He's told them he expects a fight, but would /rather/ it didn't come to that. "See if we can cut off any avenues of escape," he murmurs. "I'm tired of chasing all over the country trying to pin her down."

    Meanwhile, the webbing over the crack... ripples oddly. Stretches, bends... flexes.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael arrives alongside Jon - and she's also dressed for business, today. She's wearing unbranded conbat fatigues with built in armor plating, and a good chunk of her personal arsenal. American gun laws will allow you to buy some ridiculous things, like that AR-15 hanging by a strap around her shoulders, and the high-capacity clips strapped into place. She hopes not to have to use them, though - or the 9-mm pistols she has on each hip.
    "Annie," Cael addresses the woman - using the familiar form of address Jon had the night before, "Why don't we all be reasonable at this? Tell us what's going on, and what you're trying to achieve. We don't have to resort to violence today. We have //choices//."

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Rien has helpfully provided mass transit to the rip in the Astral Plane, a portal rimmed by a sickly green energy, ushering everyone through with a wide, wide smile before stepping through herself and closing the portal behind them. While Jon and Cael speak to Anabelle, Rien gives her little more than a cursory, curious glance before turning her attention to the opening, and the webbing binding it.

There her mint green gaze focuses, eyes narrowing as she studies it with pursed lips and a sour expression. Something about this whole thing doesn't seem to sit well with her. She glances to Jon, then to Cael, then finally over to Anabelle herself.

"You, Spider servant. What are you keeping trapped behind all that webbing? What don't you want getting over here?" Hands go to overly generous hips as she regards Anabelle with that too-wide, too-bright smile and that suspcious expression.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Chas doesn't want to choose violence either. Killing people you know, even in passing, is never easy.

    But there's the damnedest thing about angels. They -really- don't like Outsiders. And Annabelle, despite her human seeming and her conversational tone, smells like an Outsider. The taint of it is all over her; permeating her.

    So, between her presence and the fact the Rien's magic always feels a bit -off- to him--this much is a given these days, after all; one he's willing to tolerate if not truly appreciate--he honestly can't help it when the firey blue aura erupts from his body, filling his eyes with the same flame that burns in the largest of stars and a blade of the same pure Heavenly fire materializes in his hands. His silver wings spread out to their full 17 foot wingspan in a flare that lifts him a good five feet off the ground and he moves to a position to flank the woman, cutting off any passing to her left.

    Despite the show and the fact that his words are laced through with a dual layer that is filled with bell-chimes and sounds that are understood by few and recreated by even less, (the language of the Heavenly Host, Enochian), he tries diplomacy as well. "Annabelle Cane. Stand aside and cease your workings. Any machinations the Mother of Puppets holds over you are no longer necessary. Severe your strings, set aside the power she's bestowed to you, and we can end this without unnecessary bloodshed."

    Given the menacing nature in which he holds his weapon, it's clear he means her blood and not the blood of the Justice League: Dark. Hey, he -tried- diplomacy, he just missed the mark a bit.

Balder has posed:
Where Balder walked, light shined.

Dressed in black leather armor with arms exposed, purple and gold armor. A brilliant axe is in his hand, but Balder is about the only Asgardian who will talk first before his weapon is brought to bear. He's the God of Peace. But, he looks upon this...this girl. Annabelle. Chas's actions bring heavenly light and Balder smiles. But at least he tried.

"We do not wish to fight you. Whatever darkness you have followed, renounce it. Please. I have no desire to fight you. I only wish that we may speak and lives spared, with all my being."

He looks up then. He grips his ace's handle a little tighter, but keeps it at rest. Something bad is behind that webbing.

"Please." the Asgardian urges once more.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Though not usually one to dress to the occasion, the Ghost Rider has also opted to arm and armour himself to the teeth for this little meet and greet. He isn't carrying, of course; though when your body is a weapon, who needs guns?

The young man is outfitted in the heavily armoured black leather suit he wears on official Avengers business. Reinforced in gold trim, with gauntlets and greaves and brassard crafted from some high tech alloy, with narrow vents to allow the inevitable heat to escape, once he goes flame up. He seems bigger than his usual, extremely leanly built six feet; but the look in his smouldering eyes is the same predatory hunger it always is, of late.

And those eyes are fixed squarely on Annabelle as he approaches slowly half a pace behind and beside Rien, breathing steady, body honed like a knife about to drop.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    Lydia doesn't have a costume, unless you count the times when she embraces her vampirism and dresses as one might expect. Today is not one of those days. Seeing as they think that there's going to be an actual confrontation, she's dressed in comfortable looking jeans, and a cream colored blouse. As always, she's surrounded by her ectoplasm as manifested by a field of stars. The only thing odd about her is her newly acquired off pink eyes.

    "She still smells human, at least," she says. She moves to flank Annabelle, standing opposite that of Chas. Her eyes flick to Jon and she scowls a bit. "If she's trying to keep something from comin out of /there/" she says gesturing to the deep pit, "maybe we might want to help her? A lesser of two evils, you might say."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "What I'm /trying/ to do is protect Jonny's daughter," Annabelle replies, her focus turned back to the webbing that she's weaving. There's sweat beading on her brow, as if whatever she's doing is terribly difficult.

    "What does Agnes have to do with /any/ of this?" Jon snaps.

    Annabelle sighs. "Agnes Montague has /everything/ to do with /all/ of this. Didn't you get that from the memories of the other world?" A pause. "Across the multiverse, over and over, Jonathan Sims is the Archivist. Not always--there are worlds where it's Martin, or Sasha--even me, sometimes!" She laughs, then goes on, "Agnes Montague is, fairly consistently, the Messiah of the Blackened Earth. The one chosen to destroy the world. Typically a /failed/ Messiah, but," she shrugs. "They aren't exactly /subtle/, the Cult of the Lightless Flame. They keep trying the same tune over and over."

    Jon furrows his brow. "Wait... you're saying... /that's/ why I'm Archivist? Just to... father Agnes and then, what, die and pass the Archive to her?"

    Annabelle shrugs again. "That wasn't /my/ plan. I tried to keep you alive, but you're a damn stubborn fool who looked at 'I'm fated to die' and decided to run /at/ the danger. As usual." She shakes her head. "But, yes--the servants of the Blackened Earth, the Cult of the Lightless Flame, killed your family to make you Archivist, so that when you die, Agnes will be Archivist. So they can guide her to use that power to destroy the world."

    Jon takes a long, deep breath and then glances back and forth between Balder and Chas. ".../Can/ you renounce the Mother of Puppets?" he asks. "You don't /have/ to serve her, you know, Annie."

    "Don't rightly know!" Annabelle says cheerily. "Anyway, I'm in no hurry to do so just now. If I hadn't been where I am, doing what I'm doing, you'd be long dead and Agnes would have grown up as the Archivist." She flicks a glance at Chas and Balder. "So one-dimensional, some folks. As if the thing I serve isn't a fundamental part of reality, too. Second Law of Thermodynamics, boys. In a closed system, the entropy will /always/ increase. All my mistress has to do is /wait/ and she wins. You... /do/ know that, right?" A pause. "In the meantime, I'd rather like the world to keep on existing. No fear to be had for dinner if there's nothing to feel the fear."

    The webbing is smoking, ever-so-slightly, and Annabelle tenses a little, voice shifting suddenly from half-teasing monologue to something tighter. "Look, make up your minds. I'm not denouncing the Spider here and now, so if you're going kill me for that then bloody well /do/ it. But be prepared for the consequences. I don't think I can hold him back much longer."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Annabelle's words, as she speaks of Jon running straight into their own destruction, earns a brief glance from Cael. //Anyone// can easily read the 'See?' written there. Annabelle's only saying what //Cael's// already said.
    Still, she begins to shift her position to better flank the woman, and leave her no avenues of escape - though she hardly seemed to be looking for any. "Who is //he//? What are you holding back? This lightless flame?"
    She looks around at the others gathered - Jon, Chas, Balder, Lydia... "Can any of you seal off this hole?" she asks bluntly and urgently, as she draws one of her pistaols, keeping it aimed at the ground for now.

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
That smile doesn't dim, it never dims, but her expression turns from one of suspicion to one of concern. Staring at that webbing and what's beyond it. Rien's claws slide out from the backs of her hands, all six foot-long bone claws glowing with that sickly green energy as she takes up an aggressive posture and faces the tear.

"She's right. Put aside whatever issues, whatever wrongness... What she's holding back is worse, and we can't let it free." A sidelong glance towards Anabelle, "Then you're giving answers, if I have to pull you from Nullspace itself to do it."

Her gaze flicks back to Robbie and she murmurs, "You'll want to let the demon loose for this... it's going to be rough." Tossing a hand out towards Cael, seh lines the gun with that same green energy and stares at her for a long moment, "Temporary enchantment. I don't think regular bullets will work on this thing."

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Chas sighs and grumbles. "Right then..." he says, looking at Jon. "I guess we're -working- with her, for now?" he asks glumly. To Cael he shakes his head. "I only know the basics of what -it- is. I mean, I could probably facilitate teleportation if I thought about it hard enough, but closing something like that--from this side--it's on the level of the Big 13," he means the Archangels, "and I don't think we have one of those just handily sitting around do we?" He eyes the gaping hole and the rippling webs over it. "Maybe one of us could close it from the other side, but I'm not exactly keen on going to a realm of eternal darkness and the unravelling of all things, are you?"

    He braces and readies his sword. "All of us need to bring out A game here, including you Asgardian," he says to Balder, he's not had a chance to speak with the man but his reputation precedes him. "Robbie, I will do my best not to singe you if I have to let loose."

    They've worked together a number times already and the week previous was the only time he acidentally friendly-fired the young man. He's hoping not to repeat the mistake. "Lydia, bring it all against whatever comes through... and try not to look at me." He knows most of what he's saying is wishful thinking, that whatever is pushing at that chasm of Evil is probably bigger than them, but they have to try.

Balder has posed:
"You have strange words." Balder was unfamiliar with the term 'A Game'. "We have little choice but to help. We present a united front and I'm most pleased with this outcome."

Chas's suggestion makes Balder's expression harden. "If we must close it from the other side, then I volunteer." Ever Balder the Brave. His axe is raised and the Uru metal burns bright, superheated by the wielder as his eyes glow golden. His general vicinity starts to sizzle a bit. Getting a little hot in here and not in a fun way.

"Fate May be changed. It may be inevitable." Can Balder be at least a little helpful in encouragement? His axe is readied. Though the Lord of Peace, he was still prepared to enforce said peace. He grew among gods of war.

He stands proudly. "For Midgard."

Robbie Reyes has posed:
The glance from Rien is not returned, but Robbie knows her more than well enough -- both on and off the battlefield -- to know when her eyes are on him. He runs his tonguetip along his lower lip when she suggests he go full Rider. "Mmm. I might need some help gettin' him.. contained, after this." It's been getting harder and harder lately, to rein the demon back in, once he's been given control over his body. To Chas: "Appreciate it, man."

And in a matter of seconds, the heat in his eyes ignites and roars to life. Flesh and muscle and ligament burned away, hair seared off, the armour over his skull locking into place as the Rider takes over.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    Lydia glances at Cael, and then back at the hole. "I can cover it with my ectoplasm," she says. "But that'd only be a temporary measure. If we can make it permanent I'm sure that'd be a way to seal it." But when Chas makes his commands she just shrugs. "Or we could do that."

    She crouches, getting ready, her ectoplasmic field snapping to her skin in a chitinous armor. Golden claws form around her fingers, and tentacles writhe from her back. "Ready."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "And you can /survive/ out there in the Nothing, can you, oh God of Light? Don't you think if it were that easy I wouldn't have done that already?" Annabelle rolls her eyes. "You have to get past the guy trying to get through the door in order to close it. Not to mention, the only way anyone has a chance to /survive/ is if they're attached to an Old One. Like me, or... Jonny." She /doesn't/ look at anyone else. Firmly so. "None of the rest of you would come back, and the universe still needs you." She glances pointedly at Balder, this time. "Don't go volunteering for a job you're not suited for, particularly when there's a perfectly good candidate right here."

    Jon gasps. "You're planning to jump through and close the crack from Outside. That's why you dragged us here, to kill whatever's there so you can--damn it, Annie!" He takes a step toward her.

    Annabelle doesn't have a chance to respond, because it's at that moment that the webbing suddenly frays and burns away, all at once. What's revealed beneath it is... Nothing. Not a hole--a hole would be /something/. This is just... Nothing. A place where the universe simply stops existing. It exerts a horrible pull, the pull of inevitable entropy and decay, a strange desire to just run forward and jump out beyond the walls of reality into whatever lies beyond.

    There's /something/ within the Nothing, however. Something horribly large, so large its shoulders fill the enormous space--or lack of space, it's hard to describe Nothing, after all--and as it hauls itself into the universe, it becomes clear that it's at least three or four stories tall. It looks vaguely humanoid, something like a demon maybe, with arms and legs and a head--although maybe that's just the mind's attempt to grasp at something that /means/ something. There are claws and horns and teeth and far, far too many eyes. And it's on fire. It's... very much on fire. Or made of fire? It's hard to tell. All of it is hard to tell.

    The fire flashes down the webbing to Annabelle's fingers, and she screams in pain as the fire envelops her--for a moment. Then Jon is there, dousing her with a gout of summoned water and reaching out to grab her by the waist and pull her away from the chasm. "Let's figure out how to close the bloody hole after we defeat this thing!" He looks up and freezes, for a moment, eyes wide in horror.

    "Asag. Even the Sumerians saw it as a demon. So hideous his presence alone makes fish boil alive in the rivers." The Archive has some /horrible/ things stored within. "He was banished, long ago. He... shouldn't be here."

    The creature stares at the group with huge, baleful eyes--far too many of them--and booms, "Ahhh, the Wardens are gathered to stop me." The voice is horrible, the sound grating on the soul like nails on a chalkboard but so much worse. "A foolish endeavor. I will enjoy listening to you scream in agony as you die."

Cael Becker has posed:
    If that's what Annie wants to do - if that's how she redeems herself, then maybe they let her? That's Cael's initial response. But how would //she// response if Alis tried to do something like that? Fuck.
    Her thoughts, however, are side-tracked by the sickly green glow on her weapon - and her immediate knee-jerk response is to want to throw the thing away. "I didn't ask for help," she remarks uneasily - just before the demon crawls through into their reality, and she takes a step back from the flaming, horrific beast. Betweens Jon's words, and its down, it quickly becomes perfectly clear there's not moral need to hold back against the thing.
    So she empties a clip into its massive face.

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
"You just -had- to do this -now-... this couldn't have been like.. a few weeks ago," Rien offers the dry aside to Annabelle after she's doused off by the water gout from Jon. Why the timing of it matter is unknown, but she lets out a sigh before letting that too-wide smile grow very large indeed. That sickly green glow surrounds her as she lifts off the 'ground' and rises up into the air to join Chas. Because this is going to get messy.

Cael gets tossed that too-bright grin, "You're welcome!" Then she's swooping around to Asag's right side make sure it's flanked on both sides, aiming a thin, precise line of crackling, sickly green energy straight towards Asag's head. "Hi, welcome to the Astral Plane! Get the fuck out, please!"

It's the cheerful tone paired with the too-wide smile and magical attack that really sells it.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Chas mutters something about the "bloody hubris of Asgard" under his breath and is about to fire a retort to Annabelle's commentary but then that -thing- comes through the hole and commands all attention. He flies up higher, to confront the thing face to (figurative) face.

    When he speaks his voice is a clarion call that rings beyond the physical. It's the resonating tone of an soldier of God and reverberates within the soul as much as in the body. "Asag, Consumer of all Lands, you do not belong here. Return to your prison and resume your incarceration in silence, or be forced back with extreme prejudice."

    He's pretty sure Cael and Rien have already made the prejudice more than clear but he's got to give the command, part and parcel with the whole angel thing. He also knows that Asag isn't going to be keen on returning to prison on his own from words of a Dominion alone.

    He shoots into the sky even higher and in the span of seconds dives down like a sanctified comet, holy blade in hand, to harrass the face of the Being from Beyond that has broken into this plane of existence.

Balder has posed:
"Survival need not be in the equation of lives can be saved." Balder never feared the cold embrace of death or darker fates out there. He was foolish at times and her explanation regards contemplation. "I would return to you the same sentiment...yet you have a strange experience." Balder comments.

Then the webs are burning. Annabelle is burning and subsequently put out by Jon.

This thing doesn't belong here.

"How did they banish him back then?" Balder questions the Archivist. But Chas is speaking in his Holy tones and Balder's axe is humming. "On my word, you will step no further." Balder tells Asag and he moves sharply to the side with Superhuman speed and he charges forth towards this /monster/, axe raised aloft as he glows like a blazing sun, or some kind of beam as he charges forward towards the chest of Asag to find a new home for his axe.

Old God...meet New God.

"HHHRRRROOOAAAAAGGGHH!"

Robbie Reyes has posed:
The thing that crawls out of the pit is *made* of fire. Which would appear to render the Ghost Rider fairly ineffective against it. So for once, instead of leaping into action, he simply eases a step away from the chasm and watches for the time being. Both chains manifest in his gauntleted hands with a *crack* of silver and hellfire; he's bristling with the desire to fight, but waits for an opportunity to assist if one presents itself.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Annabelle casts a glance at Rien, raises a brow, and then shrugs. "Wasn't my timetable. It was his. I just bumped into Jonny often enough that he'd get moving."

    Jon collapses his staff and reaches for the khopesh on his waist, uncasing it and running a hand next to the blade. Shimmering teal magic sets the blade 'aflame' and he says, "Are you going to stand there chatting or are you going to help us /do/ something about this?"

    "I'm on it, I'm on it, hold onto your hair." Annabelle shrugs and then abruptly stretches and grows to become... a drider, essentially. From the waist up she's still herself, but her lower half has become a huge eight-legged spider's body. She raises her hands with a grin and shouts, "Mother's terribly unhappy with you. You're bent on ruining a /perfectly/ lovely arrangement. Why don't you go back home and we can talk about getting you a nice town to see devoured by lava? I hear Etna's been rumbling."

    Jon stares at her for a moment. "Are you... offering the horrific eldritch thing a /volcanic eruption/ in exchange for it leaving reality?"

    Annabelle shrugs. "Whatever works, right?" Then she fires more webbing from her fingers, wrapping around one of the monster's hands, not leaving it connected this time.

    "Hubris indeed." Asag swipes at the group, still only halfway out of the chasm, the rest of his body lost in Nothingness. The swipe encompasses each of those charging right at him--maybe not knocking them back, but certainly keeping them from getting at his chest or his face. It also breaks the webbing Annabelle tried to send at it, which makes her groan in frustration. The other attacks, from magic and bullets alike, seem to bother it no more than mosquito bites. Annoying, but not really hurting.

    "I was not /imprisoned/. I was not /banished/ either, no more than the rest of my brethren. I /am/, and always will be. I existed before any of you were a spark in the mind of the thing you claim is God, and I will exist long after the ashes of the stars that light this pitiful universe have scattered on the intergalactic winds." Asag places his hands on the ground, warping the stuff of the Astral Plane with the sheer heat radiating off of it, and then /heaves/. He's now standing knee-deep in the Nothing, towering above the landscape.

    "I make you an offer, Archivist," he booms. "A single chance. Give up your power to your progeny, and let me have her, and I will give you another decade of happy life before your world is obliterated. Refuse, and you all die now."

    Jon rolls his eyes. "Yeah, that's an easy one." He casually flips off the monstrous horror. "Kindly fuck off."

    Then he looks to the sky and takes a breath before raising his arms. "Holy Tefnut, daughter of the sun, goddess of rain... we could /really/ use your help, just now." It's murmured, the prayer. It might look like he's not doing much at all.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Fuck right off!" Cael says - almost in unison with Jon's words. She can feel something akin to a growl growing at the back of her throat, though there's no signs she's begun to change her form at all.
     This thing is //not// getting Agnes. No fucking way. Agnes was Jon's. And Agnes was Martin's. And Agnes was //hers// - and her own. She gun that Rien enchanted is dropped as Cael brings her AR-15 to bear and opens fire. She really needs to get this thing modified for full automatic fire. I mean, sure that would make it //technically// illegal, but- Who's going to tell on her? The horror crawling out of the nothing? riiiight.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Chas does a off balance piroutte in midair to right himself after the brush off that the mad god delivers. "It's not enough. We need more if we're going to have any chance of pushing it back. Treat this as if reality is as stake once again!" Because in point of fact, it absolutely is with the emergence of Asag the Earth Burner.

    He tosses the sword of heavenly flame to his opposite hand and it transforms into a brace of spears, each glowing with the blue-fires of the ancient stars. "I abjur you, Asag!" he says, sending one of the spears out like a lance of eternal cleaning fire. A counter to the lightlessness of it's own flame.

    "I rebuke your existence and bind you against the might of Heaven and Earth!" Each lance fired carries an effort of the will of Heaven, to stand against the darkness of beings such as Asag, against beings such as The Mother and the Eye. A slap of reality as strong as a wall of granite against those that attempt to tunnel their way through to erradicate it all. Chas only hopes it's not too late to preserve that strength.

Balder has posed:
Balder's axe finds a hand instead of a chest. He's thrown off of course and his feet drag against the ground.

"Begone in the name of the Allfather!"

Balder's hand lifts and blinding, burning light exits and blasts towards the towering stature of Asag, as if to burn it with sacred fire. Does the Earth-Burner burn?

Balder approaches as he blasts, he's daring the Old One's attention, along with the others.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Eli, despite his host's uncertainty, is not even remotely content with being sidelined in this fight. The lean, dark-clad Rider paces at the periphery of the battle like a tiger within the confines of its cage; the twin chained khukri drag behind him as he moves, trailing hellfire into the gloom while plumes of it pour out of his armoured mask and gauntlets.

Then with an utterly inhuman roar, he advances on the behemoth. One of his knives is thrown at the thing's midsection, so he might haul himself up, and up again like an ice climber until he reaches its shoulders, tanking a few rounds from Cael's AR-15 as he goes.

Why? So he can stab it in the face with one of those long, curved blades forged in the fires of Hell. Stab it and stab it until his weapon's wet with blood (or whatever passes for it) and spattering him with gore; like he's channeling all his rage into this act of barbarism.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    It seems that the key to at least /hurting/ Asag is to just really /open up/ on him. Between the bullets from Cael's AR-15, the fires of Heaven and Asgard, and the khukris from Hell, the monstrous thing roars and... flickers, glitching, and for moment it doesn't look like a demon at all, it's like a sun covered in hideous whirling blotches, surrounded by spinning columns of flame, except it's not even that--the image is just the closest thing minds meant for /reality/ can manage to comprehend.

    Asag is also something else, something hideous--clearly Asag is not its True Name, or the angel could not speak the word. The very nature of his true form warps all around it. The Astral Plane--the /Plane itself/--screams in agony at the heat of that sun bathing the surroundings. Tendrils of fire whip out at those fighting Asag, horrendous heat threatening to sear them all.

    Clouds gather in the sky, as the Archivist strains to summon rain in a land recently scorched by the hottest temperatures in the history of the country. A bank of stormclouds rolls in, thunder rumbles, and then the skies open up with the rain that breaks the heat. The drops that fall from the sky do not harm the Old God they fight, but they force him back into the form of Asag, and insulate the group from the worst of the heat. So now there are arms again, and a face for the Ghost Rider to attack, and the thing is screaming in agony, laying about with arms covered in flame-tipped claws.

    It's the Archivist that he grabs, right out of the air, for whatever attention Balder and Chas may be trying to pull, it's the Archivist that Asag is here to kill. "I will rip you in two, little man," he growls. "So long as you die, the plan can continue."

    Annabelle has been hanging back a bit, trying to see where she can get in a shot. She's a spider, after all, not really a being meant for direct confrontation. But Asag grabbing Jon out of the air triggers an inarticulate shout of anger, and suddenly the drider launches herself at the huge demon-like creature, crawling up its form on eight legs, opening her mouth to reveal horrible fangs that drip venom. She bites, and bites, and bites, and even if the stuff is of the same place as Asag, the Mother of Puppets and the Blackened Earth are anathema to each other. So the poison works on him as well, and it's hopefully just a matter of continuing to pour energy on Asag until he's shoved back through the crack.

Cael Becker has posed:
    The heat increases, and Cael can feel her skin tightening in response - and she's a little worried that her hair may even be smouldering, but she pays little attention to it as she ejects a clip from her AR-15 and slams in a fresh clip. "Sorry Robbie! Eli! Whatever!" she calls towards the flaming warrior climbing up the side of the- well. Flaming warrior.
    And then the monsterous, massive creature has Jon in its hands, and is threatening to murder the person she loves. Can Jon be killed? Hadn't on said it was possible? Hadn't Jon said they might not come back the same if they did? "No! You can't have them //or// Agnes!" she growls out as she charges, the finger on the trigger lengthening, as she grows in height, and a snout protrudes from her features. Her clothes start to tear away as her form grows in form - some of it falling away, including the pouch she'd packed with a spare set of clothes. You know - on the off chance.
    So for a moment, there's a werewolf firing on the horrific monster from beyond reality, using an AR-15. And then she leaps onto it, tearing into it with her claws as she begins to climb, the AR-15 hanging off her shoulders by its strap.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Chas was clear on his purpose. He knew what he had to do. He was ready call forth another Heavenly airstrike and pray that Eli would jump free in time to avoid the same destruction that befell the creature. But then it's form is revealed and something just breaks in the Heavenly warrior's mind.

    The discordant cacophany of it's presence is a cancel and override of his own heavenly chord in reality and the strain is just too much. He cries out mid-throw and the fires around him and the weapons his conjured flicker and are snuffed before he's falling to the ground.

    A dead drop of forty feet would usually result in much more injury than Chas sustains from the plummet. He doesn't even bounce, landing with an earthen finality that might give others pause--if not for the slow motion of his chest as his body resumes activity that means nothing to him anymore.

    He's alive--or at least still existing so there is that much. But he might be out for the remainder of the fight as his mind struggles to process a form of the True Enemy of his people.

Balder has posed:
The battle grows intense! Balder's light hurts the creature but does little to stop its advance. The Earth Burner becomes something else entirely to Balder: An enemy they might not be capable of beating. Bug since when did Asgardians have an advantage? Since when were the greatest tales not written when rising out of defeat?

Jon is grabbed. Chas falls. Cael transforms. Robbie rages.

Balder gives Chas a quick check to see if he was alive before he leaps straight towards Asag. The tendrils of fire strike Balder and leave a cut across his cheek but he charges all the same. His axe burning with the heat of the sun itself.

"Fall ye back before the night of Balder!"

Hd brings his weapon overhead and tries to strike this thing between it's many eyes, maybe free the Archivist in the process.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
The demon with the flaming head is far too busy carving pieces out of an Old God, to stop what he's doing and lend either Jon or Chas a hand. His *host* may feel otherwise about it, but Robbie isn't the one in control right now. Though the Rider hesitates briefly at the sight of Asag's true form. He stills, both hands gripping his khukri and dripping viscera, and even *he* is showing signs of tiring.

The heat, of course, is of no consequence to him. The flames bloom again and slide off his leather armour like water; and if anything, they seem only to intensify his bloodlust. His fanged mouth makes a hideous rictus under the gleaming silver skullplate as he resumes slicing into the thing with a draugr's scream.

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Rien sees the lack of effect they're having, hears Jon's prayer, and grins. "Oh good idea! I think I can add to that!"

Swooping back and away from the Old One, clearing space, Rien's arms lift, hands together before sweeping apart. That sickly green energy circling overhead as she calls out, "When it rains, it POURS!" Spreading both hands wide, she tears open a new hole, to a new dimension.

The Aqua Dimension. A dimension entirely of water, an oceanic dimension with no land, nothing but endless, endless... water.

That water begins to pour out by the ton, directly atop that tear and it's inhabitant that is trying to escape. Continually dousing the creature with seawater.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Robbie and Cael harry Asag, and Annabelle's poison slows him down, and the water Rien calls out /drenches/ him. The horrific creature starts sinking further and further back into the Nothing from which he crawled. Even so, he focuses his attention on Jon, perhaps to his detriment. Chas' fall proves that, if he were to just focus on taking the rest out, he might defeat them. But he has a singular focus, and they're giving the Old God everything they've got.

    It's Balder's axe right in the midst of that cluster of eyes that gives Jon a chance, though. The agony of the New God's strike, burning with the life-giving heat of the sun, causes Asag to convulse, his hand spasming open. Jon, weirdly enough, hadn't been struggling at all, though. As soon as Asag grabbed him, he'd closed his eyes and gone into silent conference with Ma'at.

    (There's a solution to this problem,) he says to the goddess, in the depths of his own mind. (A way to keep Agnes, or anyone else, from ever taking on this burden.)

    (Are you certain? Forever is a very long time.)

    (Is it really?) There's a wry twist to Jon's tone, even internally. (I've been thinking about this for a while. I'm certain. No matter how well I prepare her, Agnes only has a 50/50 chance of surviving her first six months in this job. I don't even know who'd get the Archive after her. I can do this. I'm /meant/ to do this. Let's take away Asag's favorite toy, shall we?)

    It's Ma'at's turn to be wry. (The other gods aren't going to like this. We're resistant to change. But if you insist.)

    (When do they ever? And I very much do.)

    When Asag's hand opens, Jon darts out, flying up into the air. He looks down at Chas' form on the ground, looks over the others fighting to push Asag back into the crack, sees twisting teal lines of fate, intertwining and moving. Sees his, and where it goes. For a moment, he considers /not/ following that line. Defying fate, and probability, and doing something else entirely.

    A single blue butterfly flutters along through the Astral and flies around Jon's head, then flies off and rests itself gently on the edge of the Nothing.

    Jon takes a deep breath. "I need you all to trust me!" he calls out. "Keep pushing Asag back and once he's back through the crack, make sure you jump clear! Do /not/ go through the crack. Don't worry about me--I'll be fine!"

    Then he gathers all of his power around himself--the power of the Archive, and of Ma'at, and the bright green power of the Ceaseless Watcher, and divebombs at Asag.

    "You want the power of the Archive? You'll have to take me! Because there will never be another Archivist!"

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael's climb was taking her in one direction, and one direction only as she bite, and tore at the monster - she was headed for Jon. Her hands and feet blister and burn, as does her mouth, as she tears at the creature. In fact, everything but her back gets some degree of burning - though the deluge of water brings at least some relief.
    At Jon's words, she continues her assault, trying to drive the beast back, ready to jump clear upon command. She had to trust Jon on this one. She //does// trust Jon. It'll be alright.
    ...is he planning on following this thing into that nothing?

Balder has posed:
Balder strikes with more precision than mighty Gungnir! The cavalcade of eyes and the convulsion of the beast gives accuracy to the God's blow. The heat still coming from Asag didn't faze Balder much. Light and heat are often commonalities.

Jon gives out the orders.

So Balder's hands start to glow and all around where Asag entered, Runes start to appear. Powerful Aesir magic of Odin's design. From the Runes spout forth golden chains that emerge as if to grab and wrap and pierce the old one and start pulling with tension, as if to drag Asag back towards the gate to Nothing.

Magic cast, Balder yanks out Svraden from the beast and jumps off, focusing his power on trying to wrestle this beast, hopefully helping enhance other's efforts as well!

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Rien has been holding the portal open to keep the water flowing down onto Asag's head, trying to keep him preoccupied enough that they can shove him back through. But that doesn't mean she hasn't been paying attention.

When she catches Jon's shout, and the manner in which they've shouted, she blinks. Processing quickly, understanding dawns on her face. "Good luck, Jonathan!"

At the last possible moment, Rien closes the portal from the Aqua Dimension and opens another. A last big whammy, if you will. This portal opens on the Punch Dimension. No joke (well, it is and isn't), the portal opens to a dimension of pure, concussive force. Slamming Asag with one strong blast of that force, she drops the portal and swoops down, hefting up Chas' inert form and throwing open another portal, this one to the VR.

"EVERYONE THROUGH! NO ARGUMENTS!" Rien makes the call as the Last Leader Standing, and ushers everyone towards the portal.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Chains from Asgardian runes and force from another dimension, the harrying of a werewolf and a spider, and Asag is pushed back, and down, howling in rage, trying to lash out at all around him. Jon slams into him as the others are being swept through the portal, stabbing him with the khopesh more to make a place to hold on than anything else.

    They toss out a thought toward Cael, as Asag begins to fall through the crack. <<I love you! I'll be back, I /swear/! Tell Agnes I love her too!>>

    And then they disappear, into the Nothing, Asag and Jon and Annabelle, each of them protected from the horrors of the space between reality by virtue of either being or being connected to Old Ones.

    Annabelle rolls her eyes as they fall through the dark. "Drama queen," she accuses. "You couldn't just let me do this on my own, could you?"

    "Nope," Jon replies, popping the 'p.' "You can't get rid of me that easily." He glances up at the receding spot of light above. "So... how do we shut it...?"

    "Follow my lead," Annabelle replies. She gives Asag a vicious grin, a final bite for good measure, and then pushes off of him. Momentum shouldn't really work here, but somehow it does, as though they were in zero-gee. Jon follows her lead, and the push sends Asag tumbling away, still bound and drenched. It'll be some time before the monster rises to threaten the Justice League Dark again.

    Annabelle raises her hands and shoots web from her fingers, hauling on the edges of the crack, doing her best to pull it closed. Above, as the others go through the portal, they can see the crack pulling closed from the other side.

    "You can't do it on your own, can you?" Jon murmurs. "Not all the way." A pause. "Here... let me help." He reaches out to grasp at Annabelle's webbing.

    "You sure about this? It means going home the long way. I can get us back into reality, but nowhere near where you started."

    Jon just nods. "I know. But this... this is what I am now. It's what I'm meant to do, I think. Healing reality, one frayed seam at a time." He takes in a deep breath. Lets it out. Then he glows softly teal in the dark, feeding power into the webbing, using the power of the Goddess of Order to sew up the rent that the Old Ones made in the world.

    Above them, the crack snaps completely shut.

---

    In the Velvet Room, the others are greeted by a young girl, maybe 14 or so, with blonde hair held by a blue Alice band sporting butterflies on either side, and a blue dress similar to Elizabeth's. "Oh, excellent," she says. "You defeated Asag /and/ fixed the hole in reality. Do not worry--the Archivist will return. I will go and meet him myself, to guide him home. You should celebrate, all of you. You won a great victory this day."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael leaps free as the creature is forced back through the rent in the world, "You fucking better!" she calls after Jon, her voice gravelly and distorted as his farewell forms in her mind. She goes to retrieve her clothes - leaving the gun Rien had enchanted lying on the ground and, rather than going through the portal as ordered, the werewolf spends a moment pacing in front of it, her gaze shifting between the portal she doesn't trust, and the healing tear. Only the fact that not going through the portal would leave her //alone// in a distant corner of the astral plane, and the fact that she can see the Velvet Room on the other side finally compells her her to step through.
    "Well, that fucking sucked," she growls out as she storms off towards the door at the top of the landing, snatching up the key she left on a table as she goes. The unfamiliar girl only earned a growl of annoyance as she passes. Someone's not in the mood to celebrate.

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Rien seals the portal as soon as everyone is through, catching a last glimpse of the sealing tear before the portal is gone and she's left standing there holding a very much taller-than-her angel in a fireman's carry. "You'll see him again, Cael. Archivist's are notoriously difficult to get rid of... Jonathan moreso than most." There's something /almost/ sinister in those cheery words.

Then she's turning to the girl and giving a nod, "Thanks! I'm just going to tuck this big lug into one of the privates and I think we'll head out. Appreciate the vote of confidence but I think we're all pretty wiped and needing rest."

Not-Rien will, true to her word, get Chas settled into a private room, then head home with Robbie after thanking Balder for his help.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael's only response is to flip Rien the bird with one freakishly long finger - before she disappears through the door that had begun to glow when she inserted her key.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "They really are having difficulty getting along, aren't they?" the girl murmurs as she watches the group disperse. "Do you think we should tell them more about what lies ahead?"

    From somewhere in the shadows of the room, another voice, deeper but still feminine, says, "The Master has said they must come to understanding on their own. They will not take guidance until they are ready. Some are closer than others, but I beleve they'll all get there eventually."

    The girl frowns. "I hope so." A pause. "Well, I suppose I must go find a spot to greet the Archivist when he comes out of Hell. I'm /not/ going in there myself." She shudders delicately. "Keep an eye on the place for me, Margaret?"

    "Always, Lavenza. Be well out in the world, little sister."

    The young girl turns to a blue door that appears in the middle of the sitting room, and steps through it. For a moment, on the other side, a huge mountain can be seen--a mountain topped by a shining city. Then the door closes, and the sitting room is seemingly empty once more.