16275/All in the Details

All in the Details
Date of Scene:	07 November 2023
Location:	Brooklyn
Synopsis:	Working with a significant other can present interesting challenges! Like facing a demon who wants Robbie to do horrible things to people. Plus side, probably no one was killed. Good job team!
Cast of Characters:	Phoebe Beacon, Robbie Reyes

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Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe mostly sticks to Gotham City with her work for the Bats, and for the city that she will always call Home -- but sometimes her work brings her outside the jurisdiction of her crime-fighting family.... like tonight. Robbie would have gotten a text earlier in the day:

    <Going to be in Brooklyn tonight on some Balm work. Might need a hand?>

    And she had ridden her motorcycle (which Robbie has fixed for her, at least once), and was wearing a different variation of her Balm armor.

    It was definitely made by someone who works with the Bats. Triple weave kevlar shells, gauntlets, and a backpack full of magical and bat-like tricks in lieu of a utility belt and cape. She had parked her bike down an alleyway, killing its motor as she breathes out, and jumps up and down a few times.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
The Hellcharger is left around the corner from where Robbie was told to meet up with Phoebe. Probably not a good idea to have it too close, too recognizable, to whatever it was that she had in mind tonight.

Robbie was dressed for business, his kind of business. A leather jacket was zipped up, black jeans and his boots. He could easily pass for any other kind of ganger, and that was perhaps part of why it worked.

He rolled into the alleyway and chuckles for a moment as he sees Phoebe going through her paces to prepare for whatever the night had in store for them.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    She had heard the unmistakable rumble of Robbie's vehicle of choice, and she gave a grin as she turns to regard him with an upnod. "Hey." she breathes out, smoothing her hood a moment before her blue lenses focus on Robbie.

    "Tracked these guys down. Human traffickers. They've been shipping First Nation women across the continent, and Eastern European girls and kids from all manner of South Eastern Europe." Phoebe states. "They've been using magic to help them stay under the radar. I can taste the malevolent feeling of the demon in their wake from here, though." she adds with a wrinkle of her nose.

    And she turns. "So, 'stealth is optional' for this outing. And this is a Balm Black Op." she cracks a small smile.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
    "Hey." Sometimes, words are not so necessary with these two.

    "I hate demons." Robbie does. The Rider isn't so fond either. Eli probably least of all, but he isn't allowed to speak just now.

    "Copyright and hashtag?" Robbie laughs, glancing around for a moment before he rolls his head around on his neck. "Optional. I like that. I prefer when we can beloud."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Only some of them." Phoebe states. Her own past with demons is... complex at best.

    "Well, you get to be loud. I start talking an' someone's gonna monologue at me and call me 'leetle gurl'" she cracks a joke, and then she lets a breath out. "Through the front door, assess as we go. Try to keep within eyeshot. Demon doesn't feel strong." she gives a grin, and then she pulls her hood up all the way so that those lenses on her domino are glowing dully blue, illuminating beneath the overhang of her hood.

    And then she goes to her tip-toes and brushes a kiss to Robbie's cheek for luck, and heads for the door.

    "It's locked -- you got this one?"

Robbie Reyes has posed:
    "Yeah, well..." Robbie doesn't touch that one.

    He follows along as she moves towards the door, leaning his cheek in for the kiss. "I'll do my best to stay close. Wouldn't want me getting overly hot there, would we?"

    As they reach the door, he again rolls his head around on his neck, and cracks his knuckles. "Gotta be a gentleman, right?" And with that, he delivers a swift kick that sends the door flying off its hinges. "Ladies first."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Not after the Alleyway." Phoebe replies dryly.

    WHAM! The doors are knocked off their hinges, one hangs on barely before it collapses under its own weight and stress. Inside of the door there is a large room, walls have been carved out to make a large open space. There are shipping containers. The shipping containers contain people. Innocent people. There's an occasional person with their arms bound. There are drugs and contraband weapons.

    And as the doors kicked open, a couple of guys in rumpled suits look at one another.

    "The fuck is this?" one of them asks, "Trick or treat is over, kids!"

    And his eyes light up in red as he casts fireball at Phoebe!

    Another person opens fire at Robbie with an automatic rifle, taking aim and making the assumption that filling the lanky man's chest full of lead was going to stop him.

    (Protip: It didn't the first time... for long anyway).

    Phoebe lights up her shield, putting herself between the fireball and one of the shipping containers!

Robbie Reyes has posed:
At first, Robbie ducks away from the hail of bullets with a quick dash. He does not need to let on that catching him with one will not have much impact, if it keeps them firing away and wasting their ammunition.

He ducks behind a tower of crates and moves faster than they can anticipate, crossing along until he swing out from behind the stack and throw a shoulder into the nearest shooter, sending him flying towards the ground.

It is then that he turns and advances on the caster, unless Phoebe has already found a better way to dispatch him.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    The second and third of the three in rumpled suits turned their attention on Robbie.

    One has raised his hands up with a Latin incantation and slings spikes of sharp carbon at the lanky hero, the other attempts to freeze Robbie's feet in a sanguine-like liquid. It could actually be blood -- but who's?!

    The gunfire still rips through, a quartet of gunmen from above sweeping the two heroes with sprays of bullets before their magazines run out and one drops down to try and change it on the sly.

    Balm's shield drops, and she slings a throwing blade at the Fireball caster, striking him right through the hand, where the tattoo that was on here is split in twain and destroyed, causing the hand to burn and skin to char. It's not a pleasant smell.

    From below, there comes a rumbling sound, the warehouse shaking as the air begins to heat up.

    "Someone thinks... they can slip into my workings a second time..."

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Fists fly as Robbie tries to engage with the men, keeping himself out of the line of fire for Phoebe.

Although he notices that fire may be unavoidable, as the air begins to warm. The hairs on the back of his neck stands up, and he can feel the Rider trying to come out. There is someone...something...here that the Rider wants. Badly.

Robbie is tempted to deliver it, but he holds the Rider at bay for a few more moments.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Oh and there is something that wants the Rider out, wants Robbie to give over control and just cut loose and destroy everything around him.

    "You know what you should do. Give in. That thirst for fire. For BLOOD. No one in this warehouse is *innocent*." the deep voice rumbles from below. It sounds like rocks grinding together, dry as paper, as autumn leaves caught beneath a magnifying glass's beam and catching flame. Tickling at senses and that most ancient part of human brains that fight for survival.

    Phoebe gives a surprised yelp -- something's caught her up. The scent of her blood is added to the air of misery and fear aaround them, her chin split open from a blade before slowly closing as she continues her fight.

    The other two casters are knocked down, along with one of the gunmen

Robbie Reyes has posed:
    Robbie stops in his tracks. As bullets fly at him he realizes that folly and hops behind some crates, but he cannot get the voice out of his head. He hears its demands, its requests, its pleas.

He looks towards where Phoebe is, and clenches his jaw as he sees that she has taken a wound.

"This might be a trap," he calls over towards her. "It knows I am here...and wants me."

Apparently he is not sure if the voice spoke just to him, or to all.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Oh, no, you are an unexpected *windfall*. Something that escaped Hell's confines. Exquisite in its violence and cruelty. How much blood and ash have you left in your wake?"

    "It knows we're both here. You've got this, Jefe!" Balm calls out. She's struggling with something else.

    It's getting warmer. The remaining gunmen begin to retreat.

    Phoebe's blood drips to the floor, and flashes like water in a hot, greased pan.

    And Robbie might see a figure standing at the far end of the room. He wears a fine suit in gray. He has a thin bolero-type tie, and a sensible, old fashioned hat. His round sunglasses shield the color of his eyes, but as he smiles with thin lips he'd be able to see that every one of those teeth are sharp, a collection of broken glass and hypodermic needles.

    "Violence is your nature. Your dark necessities. Blood and cruelty your very birthright, isn't it?" he asks without the mouth moving. There's a wheeze of laughter.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
    Not trusting the vision of the man, Robbie looks away as he feels the temperature rising, both within the room and within his own body. He fights to keep the Rider away, unsure of just what this other demon might do if he were to shake loose. Clearly, that is what it wants, and it is NEVER a good idea to give a demon what it wants.

He turns instead and heads towards Phoebe, to try to free her up. She knows how to combat demons. He...does not trust himself with this.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe appears to be having a little trouble. Her balance is off, she gives a shake of her head, like a dog trying for a reset as she breathes out, and she turns to Robbie.

    "He's putting pressure on my skull. I can reel it about to pop like a grape." she mumbles.

    "If I unbind, it'll hurt you." she states to Robbie, and she gives a soft pant.

    "We can't leave these people to him. He is living off their misery."

    And the figure strides forward.

    "OH ho. Oh no. Here I thought this would be like the other one you showed up with. No fire and flames. No wailing or chains. Just a reluctant pair of Hellcrossed pups." he smiles, speaking without his awful teeth moving.

    "How disappointing." he tuts, and then in a flash of fire he disappears.

    The pressure and the heat normalizes.

    And Phoebe's chin heals, not even leaving.a scar.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
    It takes a moment for Robbie to fully trust the disappearance of the demon, and he feels his own temperature start to recede now. He dashes over towards Phoebe to check on her, but seems content as her wound actually begins to heal this time.

"Who the fuck was that?" he asks, looking around as if hoping to find some clues within the warehouse. "He wanted it. Badly." He doesn't need to speak aloud what 'it' was.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Yeah he did. Ugh. What an asshole." Phoebe murmurs quietly, teetering slightly, before she turns back to the containers, and the people looking aghast, some shaking their heads as if waking up from sleep. "NYPD and paramedics are incoming. We should make ourselves scarce." she gives a wry smile, and bumps her forehead to his shoulder.

    "Thanks for helping out tonight. Saved a lot of lives."

Robbie Reyes has posed:
    "And not like we did last night," murmurs Robbie, glancing around. As if somehow 'making themselves scarce' had taken on a whole new meaning.

"Of course," he says, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. "That's what heroes do."