15205/The Hole Enchilada

The Hole Enchilada
Date of Scene:	22 June 2023
Location:	Brooklyn
Synopsis:	After a while apart, Robbie meets up with Phoebe to investigate a possibly cursed Enchilada truck. Unfinished (player dropped)
Cast of Characters:	Phoebe Beacon, Robbie Reyes

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Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    It's a hot, hazy day in New York City's borough of Brooklyn. Domino Park, with its views of the Williamsburg Bridge and in the shadow of some retired cargo cranes, the riverside park offered bocci, walks, benches, and of course the saviors of the hungry -- Food Trucks.

    There's the normal array -- donuts, breakfast-in-a-waffle, some Indian and an Ethiopean food truck, one that's selling Falaffle in the Shape of Waffles (The Awful Falaffle Waffle, which has a five star rating and constantly is rented out for Halal weddings and events) -- and a new one. Slightly beat up looking, a ressurected UHAUL truck is selling bowls of vegan-made enchiladas with black beans and sweet potatoes. They've got a long line of hipsters, better-than-thous and instagram stars lining up to try their wares.

    And off to the side, Phoebe is doing her best to not get noticed. She has her hair in a pale green wrap today, with a matching soft T-shirt that promotes the DEADLY GARDEN with an impression of Nightshade, Hemlock and Poison Ivy (the plant, not the person), and a pair of well-worn jeans. She's got her beat-up 'mission bag' with her, orange-framed sunglasses perched on the bridge of her nose.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
The growl of a car is heard as it wheels around the corner, black and white charger making its HEAVY modifications heard loud and clear with the kind of engine that wakes up neighborhoods at night. The driver swings into a parking spot, sliding past someone who's a little catty-cornered, before the figure exits the vehicle and pulls out a slip from his pocket to slap it onto the hood of the poorly parked car next to him.

It reads: 'Thank you for parking like an asshole. Go to church or something and get help.'

Despite the temperatures, Robbie is mostly wearing black, including the black and white biker jacket he never leaves home without. Black jeans with holes at the knees round out his outfit and some Jordan's are worn on his feet.

As the young man walks, he can't help but notice a few things, namely Phoebe, despite her attempts to be unseen. He steps right towards her with a purpose. "Hey Phoebe." He greets her, a warmth hidden from the rest of the world but given to her freely available to be seen on his face, his eyes looking at the line of hipsters to the absolute shit UHAUL that has seen so many better days.

"...what the hell am I looking at?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Well, some things are meant to be noticed. Phoebe, with her magically attuned senses can feel the approach of the Hellcharger -- and its driver -- but mostly it's that the car has a very peticular growl to it that she's come to recognize. He's bailed her out enough times between her inability to check the weather and tendency to take a motorcycle around places.

    However, she does straighten up when she realizes he's there, and there's an equal warmth in her coffee-tone eyes as she pushes her shades up, and gives a slight smile.

    "Robbie!" she grins, and bites the corner of her lip. Hadn't seen each other for a good month and a half, between night jobs, day jobs, college on Phoebe's part and Gabe on Robbie's. Hash-tag Families amirite?

    She tilts her chin up and motions to the enchilada truck.

    "Vega Azteca Enchilada. New food truck. Only registered and got approved by the city last week. First big day out. Something's weird about it, though. Can you feel it?" she questions, shifting her weight so that she's leaning forward a little. "There's something off about the food coming out of there. And it's not just their mole."

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Speak his name and the devil will appear.

'Cept ists not the devil, it's just Robbie. He walks towards Phoebe, hands in his jacket pockets as he leans in to try and press a kiss to her lips if she so desires the PDA. It's been far too long between heroics, taking care of Gabe, Ghost Riding, Avenging, and the work he gets with the Justice League's supernatural faction.

"Yeah. Can feel something off about it - can practically smell the dirt off the thing from here. And hippies?" Robbie shakes his head. "Demons /love/ hippies. Easy to take over." Probably because they're in various states of high all the time and unwittingly open a lot of spiritual doors.

He sniffs the air, a flash of red reflecting off of his heterochromatic eyes. "Something /really/ off."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    It had been a while, and Phoebe looks moderately surprised when Robbie kisses her, cheeks darkening and her lips pursing a moment, though she has to draw up focus again. Robbie was on the Short Short List of people who were allowed to touch her, and heck, he was a *great* kisser, but still smelled a bit like burning cities to her roses and black pepper.

    It's weird what people make comforting.

    "Aa... yeah. Yeah, some of them do asanas but aren't really mindful of the Other Stuff that goes on behind the veil." she breathes out. "... but for some reason I thought demons *hated* patchouli."

    "Yeah, something's off about the thing." she states, and she draws herself up to a stand, looking around for a moment and then rolls her shoulder.

    "So, who has the stronger stomach, you with the hitchhiker or me with the healing?" she questions almost playfully, and goes to step into line.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Robbie couldn't make heads or tails if he was a good kisser or not. Kissing her just...felt so astronomically good and made his heavy, cold heart that much lighter and that much warmer. It's a regrettable thing when the kiss ends, Robbie pulling away long enough to look into her eyes. He doesn't smell great compared to her. A city burning, certainly, but scents of ash and brimstone are his general scent at all times.

"They do. Just saying it makes my skin crawl." Robbie actually /winced/ when she said patchouli, and when she starts to get in line, Robbie seems disapproving if the notion. "Phoe-" He starts, until he just sighs. A long exhale leaves him, smoke dancing off of his lips as if he were an agitated dragon. But instead his shoes drag as he moves to stand in line with her.

"If I throw this up..."

That should help answer her question about which of them has a stomach laced with higher iron content. "I bet $20 whoever is inside will see me and try to run."

Gambler!

But he turns to look at Phoebe. "I'm sorry we haven't seen each other in a minute. It's been hectic. How've you been?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Hectic is certainly a word for it. You know how it is," Phoebe begins awkwardly, looking back to Robbie. "College wrapped up. Chose my classes for next year. Hit up a charity gala last night in New York City. Met a couple more Avengers. Night work is still Night Work." she gives a slight smile, and rubs the back of her neck. "They should run. Your enchiladas and mole are fire. In the figurative sense. even my stomach's not gonna be able to handle *actual* fire." she pauses a moment, and her lips purse. "Probably."

    And she gives a small smile to RObbie, the kind that makes the corners of her eyes crinkle. "I was beginnign to wonder if I did something wrong, y'know?" she hops on her sneakers a moment, blowing a breath out.

    "How about you? How's your brother? Any more bad guys try their luck with robbin' Canelos?"

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Robbie's eyes widen slightly. "You finished-" And she clarifies that she still has classes to do. He would've felt terrible if he missed her graduation. Some things you don't miss, no matter how it appears that you should or even could. Life events are too precious and to Robbie? This woman was too precious.

"Yeah? Get all dressed up?" Robbie doesn't like suit and tie affairs, but he tries to be exited for her and encouraging for her own things. "Night work is always night work." He smirks. "I bet you'd survive it."

"No...not wrong at all." Granted, one of their last conversations she told him she loved him. Robbie doesn't bring it up, instead taking the out she offers him. "I'm alright. Just day by day. Gabe's doing okay. I hear he's having an interesting time at school, but I'm looking into that. So far?" Robbie shrugs. "Not really. One dumbass will try every now and again until I remind them I work there."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I can only imagine the scandal if I showed up to a gala wearing jeans and a T-shirt. At least three old ladies would faint. Bruce would get uninvited from a golfing outing. They would try to get Tim to talk sense into me as the responsible older brother." Phoebe gives a small grin, and rubs the back of her head.

    "Probably would survive eating fire, doesn't mean it's on my list of Things to Try!" she smiles, and then raises her eyebrows.

    "'Interesting Time at School'?" she questions, and crosses her arm over her chest a moment in thought.

    "Just... let him try to work things out on his own before you step in and haymaker someone into making nice. Don't do what I did and break someone's rhinoplasty they got for their sweet sixteenth."

    Which is how she got kicked out of Catholic school in sixth grade.

    That's when the Dark and Oily feeling really kicks up a notch, fire tickling at the edges of souls and senses. It's not just the spices in the sweet potato.

    "Hey there folks! What would you like in your in-chill-ay-dahs?" the person behind the counter mispronounces the word, and then looks to Robbie.

    Squints a moment, and then looks to Phoebe.

    ". . . you're not the... uh... food inspectors, are you?"

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Robbie snerks at her scandal of wearing casuals to a gala. "Look, plenty of problems got solved wearing a pair of jeans and some shit-kickers. Suits just talk most of the time." Robbie remarks, his shoulders lifting and falling in a lazy shrug.

"Yeah. 'Interesting.'" Robbie shake his head, clearly none too pleased about it. Then he looks confused. "Rhin-...What?" Robbie has a high school education. "English or Espanol, please." Robbie doesn't have a bite to his tone, but he lacks understanding. "I'm trying, it's just...Gabe has spine, but he...*sigh* I'm trying."

Then it's their turn. Robbie looks at the person behind the counter and he can hear Eli crawling in his mind:

<<There he is, kid...Cone on, do it in front of the girl. Make this shithead burn. You already know what he can do...>>

Robbie's eyes start to glow red. "Enchiladas-" He corrects the person with a proper pronunciation. "Yeah. Your ride here sing to code." Because he's prickly like that!

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Nosejob, Robbie, rhinoplasty is a nosejob." Phoebe cracks a little smile. He knows her Spanish is awful. Took days of practice to get the inflection just right for 'I love you so much' and them mages, man. All about the inflections. He knows her own opinion on most of the 'suits'. There's a reason why she likes to stir up trouble at Wayne Enterprises every once in a while.

    Her hand is placed on his elbow, just to pause the thought because she gets it -- she gets defensive of her siblings too.

    "The truck was approved by the Food Truck commission last week. Surely you can't just judge it from the outside, right? Now if you notice we got a line, so if you would step out of the way if you're not going to order?" the man asks. He didn't catch the red. He seems entirely unphased.

    Phoebe though, she's picked up on the temperature chage, and she's bracing for something to happen.

    That's when a different person inside the truck makes a dive with a spatula covered in hot grease to try and strike at Robbie's face!

Robbie Reyes has posed:
"Should've led with that..." Robbie remarks on the term for a nose job, a smirk touching his gestures. He meets her gaze, and though he never said anything...he feels much the same. Her hand on his elbow is a comforting one, one that settles the inferno in Robbie and relaxes him.

Then there's this motherfucker.

A person makes a dive at Robbie! He wasn't a spring chicken afraid of a brawl. His hands are quick, one reaching to grab the hand of the person with the spatula while the other reaches for their neck, trying to literally drag the person outside the truck and immediately try to punch them in the face.

Because Robbie Reyes has that dawg in him.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Robbie may have a little trouble pulling the guy out of the UHaul window, the spatula and hot oil splashing and getting caught by a brief flash of golden light from Phoebe's shield, guarding her and the bystanders. People start yelling and moving away, and more than a few take up their cellphones to record the proceeding fight!

    He does, however, punch the guy in the face, and there's just that satisfying CRUNCH as knuckle strikes bone and breaks it from force.

    ... the problem is the guy doesn't seem to terribly phased. The neck twists around Spatula Man attempts to take a bite out of Robbie's fist, teeth unusually sharp for a food service worker!

    It also appears that attempting to pull Spatula out of the truck has upset the balance of the window worker, who flails his arms wildly as he disappears behind the counter with a 'Waaaugh!'

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Robbie does have some problems!

But thankfully, he has something called 'dogged determination'. He keeps his grip on the Spatula man, though Phoebe has his back. The flash of golden light from the shield she creates manages to block the boiling oil coming to splash on his face. "Thanks." He tells her, even as his fist strikes the face of this strange creature.

Only...despite the satisfying crack of bone when knuckles meet flesh, all it does is...absolutely nothing. "Fuck."

Though he looks at the man Spatula seems to have something to do with when he gets draggedback into the vehicle. Leaving Robbie going "Fuck!" When the creature tries to wrap it's mouth around his fist and while it succeeds, he looks at the creature and he howls in pain, even as his skin starts to sizzle and burn.

"That's it, asshole."

<YES KID!>

Robbie starts to burn alive, roaring back in the creature's face as his skin burns away like embers, as if a volcano lived inside of his body. What emerges is...much, much worse than a volcano.

The Ghost Rider had emerged. It's fist clenches inside of the beast as if attempting to grip it by the tongue.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Well, while some might have been excited to see two guys tussle over the hippie enchilada truck, they are much, much less enthused about suddenly flaming skull headed guys as the burst of heat and fire lights up the park around them. They start taking off and screaming as Robbie unleashes his inner demon.

    Phoebe gives a surprised sound at the necktwist from the creature, and drops back to shield bystanders as she closes her eyes, feeling the darkness from the truck rising up.

    Along with the heat index in the area! Who would have guessed the mechanic with a soft spot for the broken people could be so *LITERALLY* hot?

    Spatula snarls, eyes losing the human quality entirely as the heat rakes over its upper torso, eyes turning a sickly green and pupilless as it snarls, the spatula getting dropped as hands reach out to try and grab at the GHost Rider's shoulders before attempting to head-butt the skull's cranium! (Kind of a bone-headed move)

    "Like, whoa, dudes, can't we all just get ah-LONG?" the counter figure replies, flailing about before he also rises up, eyes pupilless and black!

Robbie Reyes has posed:
"No."

The voice of the Ghost Rider was like a whisper and a roar all at once. The kind of sound that makes even the bravest cower in terror. He doesn't speak to the ears. He speaks to the /soul/ and whatever the hell this thing is? It deserves to burn with all the fires of hell.

Phoebe wisely gets clear of the combat, moving away from the melee as the Ghost Rider takes a headbutt straight to the flaming skull! Though the Rider doesn't seem phased in the slightest. Instead, it reaches out to grip the thing by it's shoulders, and it lunges forward to strike IT in the skull with it's own!

"You will not live to see the dawn!"

People are screaming. Yelling. Surely one person is trying to video-tape.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    There are plenty of people attempting to capture this on video, from a safe distance.

    Phoebe keeps her head down a bit, throwing up shields, the lazily spinning square-in-a-square of her signature sigil keeping the light up as she breathes out, little bit of pink hair -- she definitely didn't have pink hair the last time Robbie saw her -- drifting out of her hair-wrap as she readies her own spells and magic to back the Ghost Rider up.

    And the thing might not live to see the dawn, but he's going to do his damndest to make sure the Ghost Rider is firmly back in Hell with it!

    THe Ghost Rider's head bashes a good chunk of the Spatula GUy's head in, and he sort of... oozes outward, followed by fleshy, bulbous tentacled body attached to the order-taker -- two halves of the same grossness.

    Spatula is down for the moment, its skull a perfect inverse rendition of the Ghost Rider's head, the order taker's mouth opens right down its neck and to its shoulders, gullet spread wide open as it tries to take a bite out of the demonic visage in the leather jacket!

    "What is it with supernatural creatures trying to bite you?!" Phoebe asks incredulously, carefully aiming and with a word, a Holy Fireball speeds past to hit the midsection connecting the two ends!