16307/Everyone's a Tourist Sometimes

Everyone's a Tourist Sometimes
Date of Scene:	11 November 2023
Location:	Central Park
Synopsis:	While patrolling Central Park, Hellcat and Tigra come across some unwanted visitors from another place.
Cast of Characters:	Patsy Walker, Greer Grant

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Patsy Walker has posed:
Nightfall in the city, which doesn't mean a whole lot in many areas. After all, New York City has been described as the city that never sleeps. While there are patrols in Central Park, the fact there are fewer people at night means it can be dangerous to walk around alone.

This is why Hellcat and Tigra have agreed to share a patrol of their own. Meeting up near the zoo first, the redhead in the golden yellow costume Tigra was once much more familiar with waves. "Hey, girl. How's it been?" There's a chill lingering, indicative of the changing season, but it may not bother either of them as they are.

Greer Grant has posed:
Takes a much greater chill to penetrate Tigra's fur, thankfully, so she's as inappropriately dressed for the weather as always, in her stylish bikini. "Hanging in there," she answers, deciding not to get into Hulk's apparent rampage several days ago. Not really casual talk, that. She gives a lazy set of stretches, keeping limbered up. "How about yourself? Get into or cause any trouble?"

Patsy Walker has posed:
Hellcat waves a gloved, claw-tipped hand. "It's been quiet, which is probably a good thing. You need that once in a while." A hint of a smile is seen where the cowl reveals the lower half of her face, noting the stretching. "I hope we don't have to cover all 843 acres tonight. I don't think I have the time for that much patrolling."

She moves through a more shadowy area, where the lamps don't reach. Those places tend to be where the trouble begins.

Greer Grant has posed:
"Depends on how fast you can run," Tigra says, of 843 acres. But then, she can keep up with a car on city streets, herself. Her tail swings back and forth as she walks along with Patsy, eyes probing the darkness as only a cat's can. "Might try having one of us as bait, next time. I figure if any bad guys see us, they'll beat feet, which at least keeps them from going after anyone, but if they think one of us is a possible target, we've got the chance to get them off the street longer term." Plus, beating up bad guys. What's not to love?

Patsy Walker has posed:
"I'm not sure either of us makes good bait, to be honest," Hellcat remarks. "Me looking like me, you looking like you, we don't exactly give off 'victim' vibes." While her senses aren't on the level of a true feline's, there are numerous things about her that are enhanced. Some are of a more physical nature. Some aren't.

Somewhere ahead, there's a magical energy signature. Nothing visible yet, but it's enough that Hellcat pauses as her eyes narrow. So do the ones in the cowl, if slightly. "That's weird..." she says, more under her breath, as she turns a half circle like she's in search of something.

Greer Grant has posed:
"Well, I can go human form, at least," Tigra says. "Put on a jogging outfit, woman out trying to stay fit with incautious choice of timing." She's not pushing for it, just throwing the idea around is all. Her tail gives a slight flick as she picks up Hellcat's mood and pause. "What's weird?" she asks quietly, turning the opposite way, looking and sniffing for whatever trouble Patsy seems to have found. "What've you got?"

Patsy Walker has posed:
Hellcat hnnhs. "I can make my costume come and go. I think I told you that the first time we met. So technically I could do the same thing, but..." She trails off. Keeping her public identity separate from her costumed one is important to her. Only a select few know that Hellcat is Patsy Walker. That includes Tigra.

She adds, "I just sensed something up ahead. I think. I don't get that feeling often, but when I do it usually means trouble."

Sure enough, on the other side of a patch of trees and shrubbery, a group gathers together. Only, they're invisible to normal senses...somehow.

Greer Grant has posed:
At least with Tigra, her 'secret identity' is rather lower profile. Not one anyone would recognize. And not that it's really important at the moment. "I'm not seeing or smelling anything," she murmurs softly. She's not contradicting Hellcat, not necessarily, just pointing out she's not sensing anything, herself. "Can you say anything more?"

Patsy Walker has posed:
"It's..hard to say. Hold on. Let's find another spot here." Hellcat motions for Tigra to keep pace with her, gesturing toward a space in the trees. Once they get there, she lifts a hand to the side of her head like she's some sort of telepath or something. "Ahh, so that's what you're doing. Clever."

She explains, "I came back from hell with a sort of sixth-sense about some things. Some of the demons there are good with magic, and when I focus enough, I can see the threads. We've got a few visitors who are hiding themselves. What do you say we go see what they're up to?"

Greer Grant has posed:
On the alert, Tigra follows Hellcat towards the trees, pausing as the other woman focuses. She glances back in the direction they were going as Hellcat explains, and frowns a bit in thought. "Do you have anyway of making them detectable? I can hit things I can't see, but I usually need to hear or smell them, if I don't want them to hit me first."

Patsy Walker has posed:
Hellcat smiles thinly. "Mmmhmm. Working on that. One of them is behind it." Putting a finger to her lips, she points to herself then gestures ahead toward a small clearing. Then, she indicates Tigra and holds up a hand to stay put before she circles around silently.

From Tigra's perspective, she can see..something in the grass. Some of it trampled, a twig stepped on. Possibly a commotion of some kind as Hellcat steps out more into the open and looks like she's reaching or slashing at something. Suddenly, it all becomes clear.

"--you doing?" comes a guttural voice, owned by someone who pops into view next to her. She's holding an amulet that glows with a demonic light. Nearby, half a dozen more creatures that look spawned from the depths of hell. Their leader wears some sort of robes, but the others are in scraps and tatters of cloth that barely cover.

Hellcat says, "I thought I'd start by asking what you're doing here, trying to hide yourselves. I'm thinking you're up to no good. How about you, Tigra?"

Chittering by the smaller, lesser demons indicates agitation, a couple of them making moves toward both of the 'cats' in a threatening way, but they don't attack..yet.

Greer Grant has posed:
Flicking of Tigra's tail as Hellcat bids caution, and she crouches down a bit, the better to stay concealed herself. Eyes scan left and right, left and right, looking for some sign of...wait. Is that...oh-ho. They can't hide their effect on the world, so now she knows what to focus on. And then they're visible, and she almost wishes they weren't. Uggggggglyyyyyyyyyyyyyy. She steps into view herself at Hellcat's cue, folding her arms. "While hiding's not exactly illegal, it's not exactly something the innocent tend to do." As one of the lesser demons makes a move towards them she 'idly' spreads her fingers and flexes her claws.

Patsy Walker has posed:
The one leading the group grimaces. Or maybe it's a scowl or a snarl. Hard to tell with a visage that rough around the edges and everywhere else. He must be a mage of some kind. "We are..sssightssseeing. Tourisssts. Yesss." Because of course he sounds like he hisses when he talks, his eyes buglike and blinking rapidly, fingers curled over and gnarled.

"And then?" Hellcat prompts, giving a kind of hiss of her own back at a lesser demon that tries to menace. It shrinks back.

So does the one Tigra shows the claws to, though it flexes its own like it wants a piece of her.

The demon mage is reluctant to say more just yet.

Greer Grant has posed:
Tigra steps a bit closer, tail giving an authoritative sweep back and forth behind her. "Bullshit," she says. "Tourists don't go invisible. And you sure as...hell can't get someone to serve you a proper New York hot dog when you're hiding like that," she points out, getting to the really important details. She flashes a toothy smile towards the lesser demon trying its bravado at her. "Let's give these guys a moment to think," she suggests to Hellcat, though while looking at the demon. "I mean, maybe they need a moment to realize that we're obviously mystic inclined or adjacent, and I'm sure they'll soon realize next that there's just -all sorts- of wizards and sorceresseses that we can call on."

Patsy Walker has posed:
One of the mage's hands starts to glow with a dark, black and purple energy. Hellcat actually bonks him on the head. Literally. "No. Bad demon. Stop it." The energy signature dissipates.

The lesser demons, implike but larger, communicate with each other through their chittering. It sounds like they have no ability to speak English, or no self-control for it.

"Did you sssay..hot dogsss?" the mage asks instead, rubbing his head where scraggly strands of hair stand up in different directions. "What are..hot dogsss?"

Hellcat keeps herself prominent in his field of vision, making sure he doesn't forget about her. "Maybe think about answering the larger question. What are you doing here? Who sent you? Was it Mephisto? Hellstrom?" The demons all cringe at the mere mention of those names.

Greer Grant has posed:
"Related to sausages," Tigra answers the demon-mage, post-bonking. "Served in a sliced bun, with various toppings and condiments. Classic New York street food. Absolutely terrible for you, though, full of bad things, health wise." She pauses a moment. "You ought to serve them back...wherever you're from. Bet you'd make a lot of, uhm, hm. Do you have money there? Anyway bet there'd be a lot of demand for something like that. Ought to go ahead and try that. Now. There." She glances at Hellcat, not knowing those names herself, but definitely seeing the reaction they have, and makes note to ask about them later.

Patsy Walker has posed:
Mage Demon: "No! Not sssent here by them! We would like your..hot dogsss."

Lesser Demons: chitterchatter, hopping around, still snarling and trying to intimidate.

Hellcat barely reacts to them, and it appears Tigra is also unmoved.

Hellcat: "I feel like we're having a misunderstanding here. You showed up, hiding yourselves, and you're acting aggressively. You aren't giving us any reason to trust you."

She keeps hold of the amulet, appearing to have no power over it herself anyway. Tigra's question about money doesn't get then very far, and the leader is still reluctant to be truthful with them. They don't look trustworthy anyhow, and upon closer inspection it sure looks like bones are used to hold the cloth in place on the lesser demons. Fortunately, none of them look like human bones.

Greer Grant has posed:
Tigra looks to Hellcat, and then back to the various demons. "What do you think?" she asks dubiously. "They go home, and we agree to meet with this one," with a nod to the mage, "later, without his trying to hide. Come in peace, we let him experience hot dogs and then he goes again, maybe to open a franchise where they're from? Could ask someone like Zatanna to make sure they behave." She turns more fully towards the demon. "Or have her come and banish these guys right now. Painfully."

Patsy Walker has posed:
Hellcat keeps herself positioned so the group is in between Tigra and herself. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. "If they were more open with us, I might be a little more lenient. I think they came here for bad reasons."

The mage tries to shake his head, but he still can't bring himself to verbally deny what she suspects.

Hellcat adds, "I don't want you here. You don't belong here. You belong there, and you know exactly what I mean."

The mage bristles, and this time he shows a little spine. "You ssshould ssstill be there with usss, fighting in the arena to entertain usss. But you essscaped."

This earns him a slap across the face, Hellcat scowling. "You have no right." Now, she moves to stand next to Tigra, crossing her arms. "Listen to her. Zatanna is one of our best magicians. She can send you back one way or another, or you can go back on your own. If we have to call for her, you might be carrying parts of yourselves back with you if you even make it that far. Your decision."

Greer Grant has posed:
Tigra, of course, knows they didn't come here to be tourists. Her talk of hot dogs is basically to give them a possible 'out,' way to leave and save a little face, or just depart in the face of the absurdity of it. She then snarls throatily and spreads her arms, flexing her fingers to show her claws when they taunt Hellcat with her time in hell. "Patience is at an end. Leave now, while you can," she growls. "Or stay and I have your guts for garters!"

Patsy Walker has posed:
The lesser demons cower, their bravado gone. Even with the numbers advantage, they understand it wouldn't go well for them. They pat at the mage insistently, crowding him.

Looking upset with this, the mage points at both of them. "You are lucky. We will go. But--"

"But nothing," Hellcat cuts him off. "If we ever see any sign of you around here again, and I mean /any/ sign, I'll bring so much down on you that you'll wish you never saw me. Now, get."

She throws the amulet back at the mage, who catches it. He makes a gesture at her that can only be described as most foul, but he proves to be smarter than he is ugly. Even Tigra can see the strains of magic now, swirling around the group before they wink out of existence. For a moment, they can see a portal open and shut, and with it a foul, heavy, hot taint to the air.

Hellcat hmphs, nudging at Tigra with an elbow. "They're gone. I think that's a potential crisis averted. Guts for garters? Is that a new threat? Do you even /wear/ garters?"

Greer Grant has posed:
She tried to play nice with the demons. Hey, maybe they were just curious, unlikely as that was. But it was obvious they were up to No Good, and Tigra felt that last taunt was going way too far. She slowly settles down once they're gone, fur rippling and settling back into place as she stands up from a pre-leap crouch. She runs hands through her hair, shaking it out briefly. "I've used it before, though not with them," she says with a grin. "Great thing is it's confusing to people who don't even know what a garter is anymore, and then they have to think about primal ol' me draped in their guts. Tends to focus their thoughts." The grin fades as she looks to where the demons were. "We should tell someone mystic about these guys. Jus tin case."

Patsy Walker has posed:
Hellcat's mood is soured by the encounter. "They weren't here for anything innocent," she says with complete certainty. "You saw how evasive he tried to be, and he had his little imps with him for backup. We probably saved some people from a terrible fate. Take my word for that."

And yet, the talk of guts and garters and all that does crack her shell just enough for a half-smile to sneak back through, threatening to spread. "I almost decided to send them off with a few hot dogs, but I didn't want to encourage them. We could have shredded them if they tried anything. He didn't have a lot of power. Most of it was through that amulet. And yeah, I'll pass word around to the usual people."

A hand lingers by her side, close to Tigra's tail. "Maybe we should get some of those hot dogs for ourselves before we get back to patrolling."

Greer Grant has posed:
"Oh I know they were only here for trouble. I was just trying to get them to take the chance to get while the getting was good. Sometimes goons like that show sense and don't push their luck. And then you get the ones that shoot at Superman," Tigra says, shaking her head. Her tail swishes about lightly, and does get closer to that hand. "Hot dogs sound good to me, actually. And I wasn't completely joking about thinking they'd be a success...wherever they're from."

Patsy Walker has posed:
Hellcat glances down as she senses the tail curling her way, and with barely a thought about it the fingers slide along its length for a moment. "Honestly, I doubt it. We really don't want them coming over here. Any of them. They didn't attack us right away so we could give them a chance, but they blew it. Could've been worse for them. They weren't completely stupid."

After pointing toward one section of the park, where street vendors are still serving up tasty food, she trails off. "So for mine, I like..."