18091/Scumbags in Sister Margaret's

Scumbags in Sister Margaret's
Date of Scene:	28 May 2024
Location:	Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Girls
Synopsis:	There's Ghost Rider hunting demons. Camille gets the assist and a demon is sent back to Hell.
Cast of Characters:	Johnny Blaze, Camille Russo

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Johnny Blaze has posed:
Sister Margaret's was far from Johnny's favorite place to hang out. Yet it had its charms - Weasel was, well, weaseldicked about the drinks, but they were not short on the booze. And if you were looking for scumbags to do Bad Things to people, this was the place to be. Normally sorcerous types hung out at Constantine's place or, if they could get in, the Bar With No Doors, but sometimes demons actually got a little crafty. And the one Johnny was hunting was hiding in one of the scumbags here in the bar. Now, if Johnny could just _find him_...

Camille Russo has posed:
Camille was extremely out of place. She didn't look it, necessarily - she was dressed way down, safety toe boots with a low heel that she could run in, black tac pants, and a cropped shirt under her favorite bomber jacket, but she felt it. A little bit on edge, with the protective runes on her skin already thrumming gently from the vibes of the place. Her eyes narrowed. 'Or maybe something actively evil taking a ride,' she thought to herself as she skimmed over the patrons.

The man she had come looking for looked right at home, but there was a tenseness to his eyes that made her instincts scream. She gave Weasel a cool smile as she ordered a drink, then took her still-capped beer and sashayed towards Johnny, sliding into the seat next to him with a small, genuine smile.

"I'm disturbed that it's so easy to find you, strange man on a bike."

Johnny Blaze has posed:
Johnny looked over at Camille blankly at first, then nodded as he clocked where he knew her from. "You're way out of your comfort zone, kid." he told her around sips of what was, by the smell, bourbon. "You packing?" he asked, which could have meant anything at all.

Camille Russo has posed:
"I thought you'd like this better than showin up at your hotel room unannounced. Which-" Camille paused, nudging him lightly with her shoulder. "Johnny, d'we need to have a lil talk about how damn easy it was for me to find you?" She raised one eyebrow at him as she reached for the bottle opener in one of her pockets and popped the cap on her beer.

After a long, slow sip, she answered his question, keeping her volume steady. Lowering her voice was likely a good way to have every ear in the joint swiveling their way. "Some," she admitted. "Enough? I couldn't be sure."

Johnny Blaze has posed:
Johnny shrugged. "You're a worker, I should tell you what's going on here. One of these scumbags - and I'm not sure which yet - is demon-ridden. Came here to take it out, but everyone here is armed and itching for a fight. Bullets don't bother me much, but they'll definitely wreck your day." he pointed out unhelpfully. "Don't suppose you've got anything to sniff out a case of possession?"

Camille Russo has posed:
"Been hummin since I got cross the threshold," Camille confirmed. "More like a game of hot n cold, but if they know you're here and they think you got somethin to protect..." she took another long sip of her beer. "They get an invite or are they crashin someone's party?" Willing or unwilling host? That changed how she'd try to deal with them. Not outing her family line was a given. She wasn't strong enough and didn't have enough contacts to take that on yet. "Had some questions anyhow, so. Couple drinks, little jukebox, see what we get ourselves into?"

Johnny Blaze has posed:
"Don't matter much from my perspective. Invited or unwilling, still a demon running around in our world. Ain't gonna stand for that." he said, finishing off his bourbon. "Actually, you can help. Stop by and visit the ladies. You run hot, come back and let me know. I'll handle it from there." he said. "Meanwhile, I'm gonna go mingle, see if it any of these." he said, eyeing the colorful crowd at this bar.

Camille Russo has posed:
"From my perspective, it can make a difference. Depends on how settled in the rot is, y'know? Might have a lil somethin if it's a fresh hiker. Lil somethin for you too, hotshot, if you don't mind lettin me doodle my digits on your wrist." She always had a small bag on her person, something to write with, little bit of her special ink. Iron gall ink. Her blood, freely and prayerfully given. Some holy water. Excellent for a variety of protections. She wiggled her marker at him as she took another sip.

Johnny Blaze has posed:
Johnny just looked at her, then nodded. Slowly. If the spell she was going to try was too annoying, the Rider could probably break it if he needed to. Besides, he admired a fierce woman. Anyone willing to stand up to the denizens of Hell was OK in his book. "You make me regret this, well, that's not gonna end well for you." he cautioned her.

Meanwhile, a woman in the back stood up from her table and unsteadily teetered over towards the ladies room. All black leather, bad attitude, and partially shaved head, she looked a little worse for wear.

Camille Russo has posed:
"I usually save the regrettable actions for my heat, hotshot. Not for dangerous men that give a lady some free advice." It was convenient she was sitting on his left. Access to the heart line, and a much easier time of writing things out. Her fingers rubbed slowly over the inside of his wrist before she uncapped the pen. She did write her number down. Johnny was a handsome man, and fairly polite. But she also drew flowers. Anemone, for protection from evil and ill intent. Hawthorn - her birth flower - for hope and more protection. An oak leaf for strength, bravery, and honor.

Importantly, her own will, and a desire for these images to protect and lift the man so long as he walked a righteous path that didn't target the innocent. The targeting was important. Collateral damage happened sometimes. But so long as Johnny was hunting demons and the worst of humanity, it would protect him. The ink dried flat as she watched, and she pressed a kiss to his pulse point. Unnecessary, but fun. His inner wrist was warmer than expected, but the skin was soft to her touch. She shot him a saucy wink as she let him have his arm back, capping her pen and sticking it back in her purse. "Now. Don't leave a lady waitin this time, y'hear? Or I'll be a mite bit cross at you on our third date, and you'll get the spiciest bowl o'gumbo this side of the Mississippi for your dinner, and no dessert to ease it."

Johnny Blaze has posed:
Johnny looked at the bracelet on his arm, felt her magicks. "If this were a date it'd involve a lot more alcohol. And motorcycles." he said with a boyish smirk. "Target's moving. You got this?" he asked. "ID and then get gone. I'll handle the rough stuff." he said. "Darling." he added, teasingly. Since this was apparently a date and all that.

"Yo, Weasel." he told the barkeep. "Beer the lady. Keep 'em coming." he told the man, who just looked irritated but nodded in agreement.

Camille Russo has posed:
"Flirt tipsy, fuck sober," Camille teased. "Make sure I got a helmet and I'll let you take me for a ride sometime." She set her empty beer bottle on the bar and nodded to Weasel as she slipped out of her chair, pecking Johnny on the cheek. "Hold my beer, handsome. I'll be right back."

Her stroll to the bathroom was relaxed, and so was the easy smile for the woman teetering in front of the sink. "Ya alright, hon?" Every single protective spell on her clothing and skin was on high alert. This was definitely what Johnny was hunting.

Her vision swam for a minute as the woman's gaze turned and raked over her, something slimy reaching out and wiping against her mind, only to be politely rebuffed - this time - by what should look like reflexive shielding or perhaps a single amulet of protection. The woman shook her head, but didn't speak. "You want me n my manfriend to help you get home safe?" Camille asked. "Get you to the bus stop down the street, maybe? Some fresh air, maybe some water?" There was a ink tube's worth of holy water in her pocket. Not enough to end something that felt so rank, but enough to slow it down a bit. "We don't mind waitin with you til the bus comes. We're not on a tight schedule."

Johnny Blaze has posed:
Johnny was keeping an eye on the other clientele of the bar, but none of them were obliging him by babbling in tongues, bursting into flame, or being blatantly Satanic. He did, however, steal Cam's beer and chug it, then motioned to Weasel to bring a fresh one. He still felt the itch in his soul that a demon was somewhere nearby but this one seemed to be rational enough to know how to hide its presence.

Smart demons were a pain in the ass, but that's one of the reasons there were Riders.

Camille Russo has posed:
The woman nodded again, still wobbling unsteadily, and Camille took her by the elbow to help. She was grateful for the leather, protecting her from direct contact with the flesh of whatever sort of demon was inhabiting this woman. She was pretty sure nobody else was home, and there was a faint hint of something that reminded her of rotting meat and dumpsters in the New Orleans heat. She hated it. "We'll stop by the bar, settle up, see if this place has any bottled water, yeah?"

The two slowly made their way to the bar and Johnny, Camille stopping between the two. "Hon, can we get settled up here? I told this nice lady we'd at least walk her to the bus, if not make sure she gets all the way _home_." She tipped her head against his shoulder, letting her curls tickle the side of his face. "Weasel, you have any bottled water back there? Or some solo cups you're willing to fill with ice water and a wedge of lemon for a few bucks?" She got a nod, and two blue cups made their way onto the counter. Ice, water, a few sketch looking lemon wedges. She dropped a 10 in the tip jar and took both with a smile. It was awkward, but she managed. "Babe, you settle up, we'll wait outside? Some light and fresh air might do her some good."

Johnny Blaze has posed:
Ah. He'd sent Cam into the lion's den and she displayed some adaptability. He dropped a $20 into Weasel's tip jar, earning him a rare smile from the barkeep. "Yeah, let's get this lady some fresh air before we send her home." he said, knowing Cam would get the reference.

Someone was going home, that was for sure. Wasn't going to be him and it probably wasn't going to be Cam. He just hoped the woman could handle witnessing - or participating - in some rough stuff.

Camille Russo has posed:
Camille really wanted to get to the holy water in her pocket. Her brain itched as they made their way outside, and she took a deep breath as they exited the building, shoulders relaxing slightly. They wouldn't start a bar fight by taking it outside, she hoped. She set the cups on a bench, letting Johnny take the meatsack's weight. "You want some of my liquid sugar in this hon?" The bottle's in her hand now, and she shakes it at the woman. "Little cheap-o lemonade?" At the vague nod, Cam shakes some between each cup. The holy water will just reinforce her own protection. She hands it over with a smile, slipping the bottle back into her bag and leaving her hand on a concealed knife.

Johnny Blaze has posed:
Cam wanted to play it the coy way. Probably the safer way for her. But Johnny, he had other options. As he turned to the demon-ridden woman, the flesh of his head _caught fire_ and burned away, revealing a burning grinning skull. He had made contact and thus the Penance Stare would likely be enough. The Ghost Rider gazed into the vessel's eyes, and both she and the demon riding her screamsd, heart-rending screams of agony and loss.
    "You're going back to Hell, demnon." the Rider growled in an echoing sinister voice. As for the vessel, it really depended on how long the demon had been riding her, how much of her was _left_ after the demon feasted on her memories, her identity, her very soul.

Camille Russo has posed:
Camille took several steps back, choking on a watery cough in her surprise. Her cup dropped to the ground with a splash, and she instinctively made the sign of the cross. As she caught her breath, she let her hand rest over her hammering heart, eyes still wide and watching at the meatsack gazed at the flaming skeleton and screamed. "Blessed Joseph and Mary," she whispered out. "Johnny? You... that is still you in there, right?

Johnny Blaze has posed:
The Rider looked at Cam and Hellfire danced in his empty eye sockets. It also did not answer her question in favor of jerking a skeletal thumb at the vessel. "Get her to a hospital. Be ready for nightmares, mental trauma. She's been through a lot." the Rider growled in its echoing speech, then walked over to the bike parked out front, which also obligingly had its tires catch fire and twist into a more demonic, more evil-looking frame. The Rider mounted his hellbike then kicked it into gear, roaring off into the late afternoon sun.