18965/ESCAPED: Along came a spider.
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ESCAPED: Along came a spider. | |
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Date of Scene: | 11 September 2024 |
Location: | Turkey Mountain |
Synopsis: | What was expected was a bloody fight to the end but things don't always go as expected. Tasked by the Mother of All Nightmare Spiders from the Astral to find the sorcerer responsible for the imprisonment of her child - will the lot of them be up to the task? They have one cycle of the moon to figure it out. |
Cast of Characters: | John Constantine, Satana Hellstrom, Camille Russo, Amy Winston, Meggan Puceanu, Stephen Strange, Rien D'Arqueness |
Tinyplot: | Escaped |
- John Constantine has posed:
Then...
For once, the battle to fight the darkness is taking place in the light. It's around three in the afternoon. John's been keeping track of goings on around Turkey Mountain via the map left behind for him by the daughter of a friend - that eye kept even closer since the strange reports made when a hiker coming down from the mountain claimed his friend was caught in a web of darkness and then pulled apart by something he couldn't see. That was two days ago. About half an hour ago the dot of blood that's been consistent on the mountain range grew in size until the entirety of its peak was hidden by red. It was time to act.
Putting out a call to the rest of the Justice League Dark and its allies, the typical arrangements were made - the team would meet at the House of Mystery and proceed from there. Of course, as per the norm, the House made herself easy to find for everyone involved.
Now...
The House is a sentient being on a level most - even John - cannot possibly understand. That is to say she's *smart* - smart enough to know not to drop people right in the middle of a situation when it could possibly mean none of them ever return. So, it's a ways down from the actual ground zero of the current mess. It doesn't take magical senses to feel the weight of palpable dread blanketing the mountain side, nor does it take mystical sight to see the source. Right around a hundred yards up from their 'landing spot' the trees are covered in in unnatural darkness - turning the entire area into a giant maze of webs made of pure darkness and shadows. They shimmer with an otherworldly, dark iridescence, revealing intricate patterns that seem to shift and move as if alive.
"I did a little readin' when that first report came in - sounded like a Nightshade spider. Nasty buggers, they are. Big, at least the size of a man - and those are the small ones. They're intelligent. They're venomous and can't be seen by the naked eye. They exist in somewhere between the astral and here - straddlin' it like some wanker with one foot in the grave. They can only be scene when feeding - but let's not decide to sacrifice anyone to that fate just yet, ey?"
His eyes track up the mountain side to the darkness when he adds, "And that?", he gestures, "Looks like the work of more than one. My guess the *one* the hikers ran into, well it's found itself some mates."
Short of it, this might not be easy.
- Satana Hellstrom has posed:
She's been told that this has something to do with Galactus. And while Satana prefers to avoid engagement with such monsters.. Earth is still where the vast majority of the souls she sustains herself come from, and is the easiest hunting grounds unless she wants to fight over scraps in hell and play the dangerous games of the infernal realms and the other dimensions connected to Earth if the planet is destroyed. So when she's told it's something connected, she at least bothers to show up to it, appearing with the group over in a flicker of brimstone upon her arrival.
As the patterns go to form about them from the spiders and the webs, she goes to raise up her hands, and goes to work her fingers over together and starts to work at weaving a charm together. "Give me some of the silk. A few inches is enough." To whomever.
When some is given, the webs start to glow around them. Dim, shining. like looking at lights out in the darkness in a cave. Enough to dimly guide and outline, but barely more than that. But it's enough to let them not walk into them.
- Camille Russo has posed:
Spiders you can't *see*, like that isn't prime nightmare fodder. Camille shudders at the thought of man-sized being small, but she's well-prepared tonight, has been well-prepared for man-sized spiders ever since the issue with Parker. Her hair's covered tightly, her tac suit's got hi-vis strips on it, and there's handfuls of vials strapped across her chest, fire and freezing alike, blanks that stun and live ammo both ready for her guns. The knife on her back is a long, barbed monstrosity meant as an absolute last-case scenario, carved with runes that will electrify and freeze on contact. Basically, she's loaded for bear.
"How visible are they if they're on fire, John?" It's probably best to ask before tossing things in willy nilly, but her hand itches to engulf the entire creeping darkness in a bit of cleansing fire.
- Amy Winston has posed:
Amethyst was readily busy, amidst the gathering of allies. The tension in the air was palpable, the mountain looming before them is still showered in sunlight, but makes it no less wary, even as she notices the slow approach of the House. Even the House of Mystery, with all her sentient wisdom, had been cautious in where she deposited them, just outside the immediate reach of the creeping web of shadows.
She reached down to the small pouch at her waist, her fingers brushing the enchanted rubies nestled within. Each stone, glowing faintly with an inner fire, had been forged in ancient rites, imbued with the power to shield against poison and illuminate the astral realm. Amethyst's expression remained composed as she considered the danger ahead. Nightshade spiders, John had said. Vile creatures, venomous and unseen to the naked eye, lurking between dimensions, straddling the line between the astral and the physical world.
As she takes them out, she offers one ruby to each of the team. "One time use. Protection from poison." she offers with a small smile. "The ruby will shatter if you're poisoned and cleanse you. Try not to get bit twice."
Her gaze followed John's up the mountainside, where the shimmering webs of darkness seemed to shift and pulse with malevolent energy. The intricacies of the patterns woven into the shadowy maze hinted at something far more dangerous than a single spider. She knew well what lay ahead-it would not be easy.
"Let us not linger," Amethyst spoke again, her words imbued with the confidence of a seasoned warrior. "These beasts may thrive in darkness, but we are the light that shall cut through it. Move with caution, but remember; this day shall not belong to the spiders." With that, she summons her amethyst sword and shield, preparing them for battle.
- Meggan Puceanu has posed:
"We get to bloody well admire Shelob's great-grandchildren, is that it?" Delicately inflected by the Celtic lilt of the Irish Sea, some shore of it anyhow, Meggan's assessment arrives after taking in their stygian surroundings. "Steal a couple strands of my hair, if that's the case. Pity I didn't think to bring an enchanted phial." Dressed for the outdoors in sensible hiking boots and a comfortable t-shirt, she looks more like someone going on a hike instead of facing something fit for slaughtering fellow ramblers.
Perpetual darkness steeping the mountainside brings a visible change to the flaxen-haired young woman, her green eyes taking on a catlike phosphorescent sheen that continues to brighten past any human norm. It's instinctive on her part, as breathing is to others. Unlike Camille, she carries no visible weapons. A bit like Amethyst, her only baubles seem to be a few intricate rings. Being handed a ruby counts as a good day and she offers the Nilaan warrior-princess a beaming smile. "Thank you. I'll keep it for any poor sot up there."
Tucking away the gemstone in her pocket, she half-closes her eyes, feeling for the presence of other sentience -- or more specifically, their emotions -- up the slopes and into the void. Human, spirit, supernatural monster, all the same to her.
When it's clear they intend to set out, she nods to Constantine. A ghostly smile quirks her lips as she floats along the shadowy terrain. Not a footfall to give her away; floating will do that. Moreover, so does losing some of her physicality as she goes, fading like summer twilight.
- Stephen Strange has posed:
It is not often that the Sorcerer Surpreme receives notice from the Justice League Dark. They typically are able to handle their own issues. That and the JLD and him have an understanding. They do not cause reality to stutter and he will come to their aid when they request it. Considering that the mortal plane has not crumbled in at least a fortnite or two, the JLD is holding up their end of the bargain. So too shall Strange.
There is not much that is heard from Stephen when within the House of Mystery. After all, it is John's show. Stephen is only there to help. It is a rather novel situation that caught Strange smiling slightly at least once or twice. And when the House chooses its destination, the most that the good doctor chooses for commentary is two simple words, spoken to John.
"After you."
No need for adventuring speeches or grand displays. Just a simple indication. When Strange does head towards the darkness before them, it is with a single step. The cloak about his shoulders ensures that no other is needed.
- Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
It's an interesting group that John's cobbled together this time. Rien glances amongst those gathered, then towards the webbing, with it's peculiar scent and even more peculiar properties.
"Interesting..." it's murmured under her breath as she glances off into the middle distance, "Si je ne savais pas mieux, je dirais que c'est ton travail, marraine."
Letting out a quick snort of a breath to clear her nose of the scent, she draws in another breath, starting to sift through the scents, picking out those of the people, demons, and assorted Others that are in the group... then the webbing, picking the scent apart as she works towards the true scent. The one that will help to lead away from stray paths and towards the prey. It's good to be a hunter.
What makes it interesting is that she manages to tie in her extraordinary sense of smell to those mystical senses as well, keeping her alert to the 'scent' of astral rifts or movements. Rien moves through the area as others gather and gear up or otherwise prepare themselves. Collecting the sccent and sifting through it for the one she wants.
"The scent is.. almost familiar... not these particular creatures... but they come from a familiar source, perhaps?"
- John Constantine has posed:
If only Satana knew that this has *nothing* to do with Glactus.
Poison isn't generally a *huge* issue for John - his blood is more toxic than most of those anyway. But when faced with giant shadow arachnids, the likes of which he's never actually seen, why take the chance? He accepts Amethyst's little bauble and shoves it into an inner pocket of his trench coat. That thing has to be spelled, right. Bag of holding or something? So much stuff seems to go in and out of it. His pack of Silk Cuts and that old gold lighter of which he's so found comes out after the bauble goes in.
"Oh, yeah, the webbing will also drain life forces," he adds as if that wasn't an important thing to note to begin with. "...and they are capable of shooting the stuff at people. Right fun bloody party, innit?" That last bit seems to be aimed more at Rien than the rest of the party.
John takes up the middle of the line when they start out, putting himself somewhere between Meggan and - well anyone else - there we go! Stephen's offering, good on him. John Constantine is powerful, he's vain somethings and sometimes his ego gets the better of him. Other times, reason wins out and he allows himself the protection of the heavier hitters - this is one of those times. He does, however, chant an incantation under his breath - likely not heard by anyone without some seriously sensitive ears and likely not much understood by those that can hear it. The result is simple enough - now he can see both the astral and the physical - one overlaying the other. It's disorienting, particularly in the beginning. But if he can't be the tank in the battle, maybe he can at least be an early warning system? "Don't see any of the cunts in the immediate area - we may have to somehow draw them out."
He lights a cigarette - every man walking into a potentially deadly situation should have that last coffin nail, right? "You see or smell anything, luvs?" he asks, addressing both Rien and Meggan.
- Satana Hellstrom has posed:
At the mention of 'devour life force' Satana's grin gets even wider, "If anyone has any leftovers.." Well, it's an offer to handle any for herself. Poison's not an issue for her either - well, other than kinds specifically designed to target demons, and those are extremely rare. And even better is this sort of threat that they're pursuing likely isn't going to have anything holy pursuant to it to get in her way either.
Smiling sweetly over at the others, and then turning to Strange, "Can I drop by to the Sanctum sometime? I might want to.. Borrow something." Her hands go to weave together as she turns to Meggan, "ANd I have an offer for you sometime, if you're.. Interested in a bargain for a field trip." She goes to grin bigger and bigger as she moves to take her fingers to her lips, and goes to blow them together.
The result is a burst of flame going to the nearest set of webs, covering perhaps a tree or two.. The embers take, then quickly sizzle and fizzle, melting and turning into dripping gunk like one held a lighter to thick plastic long enough to get it to dribble but nto much better than candle wax left liquid. It quickly goes off as Satana murmurs. "Interesting." And fascinating. Very few things can burn out Hellfire.
- Amy Winston has posed:
Smiling warmly at Meggan, Amethyst nods. "Of course. Just in case!" she offers cheerfully, as she turns, her adventurer's gear, made from mist-silk is tried and tested in the lands of Nilaa when she was there. "Your godmother dabbled in silks?" she asks Rien as she takes one of the flanks of the group.
As he spoke about the life-draining webs and casually lit a cigarette, Amethyst's amethyst-colored eyes flickered with playful mischief. "Oh, just another day, isn't it, John? Giant life-sucking spiders, death looming around every corner. Your usual stroll through the park," she teased, her voice laced with bratty humor as she stepped forward, her glowing lavender aura contrasting sharply with his smoky, gritty presence.
She waved a hand, casting a light spell that would reveal any magical disturbances in the nearby area, a soft shimmer rippling through the air. "Honestly, John, you really know how to pick your battles," she added with a smirk, the sarcasm in her voice clear. "But don't worry-if anything tries to drain you, I'll make sure you still have that scrappy, half-dead charm by the end of this."
The glowing shimmer of her spell faded as nothing particularly dangerous appeared in the immediate vicinity. "Seems like your astral overlay is picking up the same thing I am-nothing yet. But that doesn't mean they're not lurking."
Despite the playful banter, Amethyst's fingers twitched slightly, ready to summon her magic at a moment's notice. She was prepared to fight alongside these strange allies, even if it involved getting covered in webbing and dealing with nightmare-inducing arachnids.
Though she does add. "Hey, John? Considering that their more girls than boys here - they're cocks. When you get the chaps to play, you can go back to calling them whatever you want." Yes. That from L'il Amy's mouth. Smile.
- Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Chuckling at the question, Rien glances over to John with a sly grin, "Better than some, not as fun as others." She tilts her head towards the webbing and wiggles her fingers, "Shall I go find out if they know 'Shave and a Haircut'?" The scent of the spiders is starting to form separate from the webbing, giving her a clearer picture.
This is helped along by Satana's burning of the webs, making the scent of the spider all the clearer, catching and holding that scent even as she growls softly, "We have one incoming. Keep your wits about your if you value body parts." Then in an aside to Amethyst, "No, my godmother does not 'dabble', and certainly not in something as mundane as 'silk'."
She starts forward, easily taking point for the incoming spider. If anyone can likely tank the damn thing... probably the magical Howlett kid! Bone claws slide silently forth from the backs of her hands, each one wreathed in a mystical blue glow. Someone decided against the adamantium treatment and went for the 'natural' look!
"I've got point. Try not to hit me with any attacks if you can, I'll keep it's focus.. take it down." Rien's no longer in banter mode, not that she can't, but the hunt is on and she doesn't intend to be the dinner.
- Camille Russo has posed:
"Well, that's unfortunate," Cam mutters to herself as she watches Satana's fire do... not nearly as much as one might wish for, really. She accepts the gem with a quiet word of thanks and tucks it into an upper pocket, sliding a vial of light purple liquid out of her bandolier, rolling it between her hands as she listens to the others. Life-draining, *crisse*. She should've brought a flamethrower or three. "I'd rather my soul not get munched on at all tonight, if it's all the same to ya, hellfire," she says to Satana, replacing the purple vial and pulling her gun, live ammo slotted in and safety off as she follows behind Rien. "Don't die, cherie, oui? We haven't even been able to chat properly yet."
- Meggan Puceanu has posed:
The brimstone crackle of Satana attempting to set the webs ablaze makes for a particularly strong impression, even if one doesn't have the legendarily strong feral senses on par with Rien or a Wolverine. Acrid odors sting in their way, enough for Meggan to draw breath and hold the oxygen deep in her lungs. The air remains balmy and distinctly absent of smoke or particulate matter ashed by spell or natural causes, a way to destroy the benefits of Silk Cuts and a blessing in smog-ridden New Delhi. She spontaneously grins back at Satana, an ingenue's gilded cast to the infernal graces imbued in the succubus. "Something to look forward to, innit?"
Certain downplayed quirks abound; staying any longer in current company and expect smatterings of French, Amethyst's diction, Strange's expressions. Her body continues to slip out of focus no matter how hard someone tries to focus on her, a silhouette imposed on the landscape. Crossing the mortal plane into further ones is another matter, where she maintains a certain luminous presence suffused by magical energy.
With Rien being the tank, the ghostly woman drifts into position on point in case the spider goes past or another one decides to show up and it's perfectly plausible that may be the case. A faint shimmer is the only tell that she might well be armed with something fit to crack through tarsae and segmented legs.
- Stephen Strange has posed:
"My soul already has claim by another. And she is not known to share."
A odd phrase from the Sorcerer Supreme, but given with just a touch of humor. Does Stephen find the spider hunt amusing? Perhaps not so much that. Perhaps it is the allusions to Tolkien that stir his amusement. "Attercap, attercap, indeed. And me without a Sting. A shame."
Not that Strange is unarmed. Far from it. Already, his fingers draw arcane symbols in the air, golden rotes that shimmer before him. A twist of the wrist and the mystical energy weaves itself into a shield, held out before him. Those that are familiar with the sorcerer's tactics know that he has full control over said shield....and that it is only a shield in appearance now, when it can be much more at a moment's notice.
The sorcerer does hang back, allowing those that wish for direct combat to take the front. His approach is not direct, but it will be swift. As useful as normal senses may or may not be for their spider hunt, there are mystical senses that come to play...and it is these that Strange now extends. Any early warning is an advantage that they could use and Strange intends to provide what he can.
- John Constantine has posed:
The Astral...
The attack on the web has brought a few of the monstrous arachnids to the forefront. Their approach is slow, methodical and coordinated - the intent seems obvious as first one, then two, then four of those segmented legs make an appearance followed quickly by the the entire nightmarish picture. They're trying to do exactly what Meggan and Rien seek to accomplish - distract the point guard so their brethren can sneak in from the rear.
Their bodies are covered in a sleek, obsidian-black exoskeleton that seems to absorb light, giving them an almost ethereal presence. Their multiple eyes, arranged in a menacing pattern, glow with a faint, eerie luminescence, providing them with excellent vision in complete darkness. Their legs are long and spindly, covered in fine, hair-like structures that help them sense vibrations in the air and ground. Each leg ends in sharp, claw-like appendages that allow them to climb and cling to any surface with ease. Their fangs are large and dripping with venom.
Quickly following the first, a second appears and then a third.
Outside, mostly...
John, with his attention focused on both planes of existence, doesn't miss the ploy. How can he when he turns his head and there's one of those horrors creeping along that web of darkness right toward him and the others left to protection of their point guards. A second joins the first and then a third.
In their attempts to box the group in and cut them off from any escape save *through* the webbing, the first group advances quickly - too quickly - on Rien and Meggan.
Just in time for Meggan to hear, "Meg, luv!" as John back-peddles away from the arachnids coming from his side.
They're still in the astral, but for how much longer and can their reach extend beyond without them becoming completely physical?
A spell forms on John's lips. He's moving toward Camille - the other 'squishy' in the group even as he's putting together the logistics of that spell together in his head.
- Satana Hellstrom has posed:
The spiders are astral phenomenon, coming now towards the physical plane. Satana Hellstrom is -quite- well versed in the astral realm, aware and able to manipulate it even while fully present in the physical one. She goes to grin wickedly over as she goes to speak telepathically to the Queen and the Princess.
<<Let's disassociate them while they're already interrupting reality>> They were between two dimensions, not phased fully in either. Multiple groups coming in..
That meant mid-shift they were vulnerable. Satana goes to speak to Amethyst with a voice of command, a radiation of power behind it, "Give us a charge." She goes to act as the bridge between realities, the physical and the astral plane tethered to this connection, and moves to feed up the energy to the conduit of Meggan, already fully up there and radiating in the otherly-dimension..
And they would give at least for the first group of spider-beasts a hopefully rather -nasty- short circuit, catching them mid-phase!
- Amy Winston has posed:
Amethyst grinned as Satana's voice, laden with command and purpose, echoed telepathically in her mind. The Princess of House Amethyst was no stranger to interdimensional threats, and the idea of ripping these astral spiders apart as they phased into reality sounded exquisite.
"Mid-shift vulnerability, you say? Satana, you know just how to make a girl's day," Amethyst quipped, her voice playful but edged with focus. Her hands began to glow with a vibrant lavender light as she prepared her spell, feeding off the energy Satana and Meggan were already harnessing.
With a snap of her fingers, she summoned an arcane circle beneath her feet, shimmering and rotating as symbols from her home realm of Nilaa pulsed in time with her heartbeat. The portal she envisioned wasn't just a doorway; it was a rending force, designed to tear apart anything caught between dimensions. These spiders, halfway in the astral plane, were about to learn why one never interrupted a Princess's plans. As she pulled mystical energy from Nilaa, she sent it towards Meggan and Satana. The Crown Princess of Gemworld and blood of a Lord of Order shares her energy with the pair.
"Here's your charge, Satana. Try not to have too much fun," Amethyst teased, her tone still bratty and filled with playful mischief, though her eyes sparkled with deadly intent. With a flourish, she thrust her hands upward, the arcane circle expanding and rippling outwards, creating a portal that crackled with raw, interdimensional energy.
The air around them hummed as the portal widened, drawing in the energy Satana fed into it. Amethyst's power surged, mixing with Meggan's and Satana's, a whirlwind of astral and physical magic spiraling together. The spiders-massive, dark shapes flickering between planes-were caught in the vortex.
The moment they phased just enough into the physical realm, Amethyst's portal latched onto them, warping space and ripping at their very essence. The air was filled with the unearthly screeches of the spider-beasts, torn asunder in the rift between planes. Their shadowy forms twisted and distorted as the portal devoured them, leaving nothing but faint traces of their existence behind.
- Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Another arachnid hunter stalking through their obsidian webs fixes Meggan's attention, though other sparks fill in the mindscape fed by constant empathic strobing. John and Stephen have the strongest presences, the women as distinct as flowers in a desert. Neroli fire and bitterest orange spiked by clove accompany Satana's mental voice. It really ought to be disturbing how effortlessly bridging the distance is. She doesn't even have to *try* to reach the blonde's mind, simply inside. What mental fortress?
Force already spindled between Meggan's spread fingers sends distorting wisps around deceptively fragile wrists to her forearms. Energy bends, rubbing up against the elemental with irresistible feline intention. She blinks toward the sneaking presences. Force threading through the physical and astral realms shifts, taking on a lavender tinge underscored by wild violets, wet cedar, and lilac when infused by Gemworld's power, the antithesis of her own nature.
Weaponizing the fever-dream of hot passion on the tongue, reclining in the depths of a twilit forest, may be a new approach to an old spidery problem.
Radiance lifts off her skin in a luminous shell, witchlight tears bleeding from the cracks in the skin-deep mortal mantle. Her hands lift and the elements keen with her. Hard-edged beams packing a vicious punch ricochet in two directions, one to the larger spider stalking John.
The one nearer to her won't get the brunt, but that's hardly any better for it. She burns bright-hot in Astral sight as the admixture of infernal and ordered magics have their way to burn through. Bad enough were she standing still; she is not, hurling herself headlong into the fray in case eight-legged creatures haven't learned who the bait is.
- Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
"Clever girl..." Rien mutters another line from another famous movie, noting the arrival of multiple other spiders. They aren't getting the ambush, but the plan was a good one. She glances to Camille and winks, "Don't you worry, we'll get a chance to talk after. Now, get ready." With a quick weave and weld of precise motions, Rien tosses a shield of mystical energy around Camille to help absorb any incoming attacks on her.
For now, however, there's a fight to engage! The spiders are still largely hiding on the Astral, and that's where she'll start! Glancing to John, she flashes a saucy grin and a wink, "I'll bring you back something fun." And with that, the mutant magi disappears from the material to reappear on the astral. Wreathed in mystical energy here in a way that she doesn't really promote on the material, Rien moves towards the biggest spider she can find. Likely bigger than herself because, well, when do Howlett's EVER pick on targets their own size?!
Racing in, she goes low at the last moment, sliding down onto one hip and letting those claws flash out in an opening gambit. Testing the waters to see if she can find an easy weak spot on the creature. The belly would be her first guess, the eyes would be her second. But joints can also prove excellent targets in a pinch. So she's going to test them all!
While spiderish in shape, they clearly have some form of intelligence, enough to formulate strategy and hunt in a pack, so she's not expecting an easy conquest. The ichor that leaks from claw marks along one leg and near the underbelly is met with a turn and swipe of a pincered leg across the back of her shoulders, opening a line of red that almost immediately tries to heal, but is finding that toxin of the spiders is more than just mundane. She hisses at the burn of the opened wound then turns back towards the spider.. and smiles. "Oh good. Something worth the effort."
Racing forward once more, Rien bullrushes at the spider, shooting off a mystical blast of energy before going up high to try and land on it's back. The spider shrieks angrily when it feels the weight of her on it and tries to escape into the Material, only to find Rien is right there with it. "FUCK!" The sight of Rien atop a massive spiderlike creature, bleeding and slamming claws into and through the carapace are briefly visible on the Material before they're both tumbling back into the Astral to continue the fight!
- Camille Russo has posed:
She sees John coming her way and backs up a few steps as well, gun lifting into a higher position as she waits patiently for a glimpse of these things in the physical world. Cam can't see what's happening in the astral. She *senses* something, hears the banter between Satana and the Princess, takes two more steps back and kneels, taking aim only to see the spiders ripped practically into nothingness. "Merciful saints," she whispers at the power rippling through the air, shooting instinctively at the mass that appears with Rien before quickly disappearing again. She flicks her safety on and re-holsters her gun, standing up and tapping the vials across her chest.
"Well, that's a pretty bit of magical fireworks, now where are the rest of them?" She needs to learn how to see beyond the physical world, but she can sense well enough when Meggan's concentrated force flings itself into the fray. Cam feels like the magical equivalent of a small amphibian on her best days, but in the face of the powers surrounding her at the moment she doesn't even feel like an *ant*, doesn't have the knowledge to even decide what's the best option to use on these things.
- Stephen Strange has posed:
There is more than one that is able to walk the path of the Astral. One that is comfortable within both realms, able to pass through one to another as do the predators that stalk them now.
Stephen Strange is at the ready.
Yet, there is most certainly an intelligence to these creatures. For even the Master of the Mystic Arts is surprised at the sheer *speed* of the spiders' attack. There are strength in numbers, but there is strategy, too, for two peel away, angling for Strange in such a manner that the sorcerer only can retort with instinct rather than any sort of plan.
Yet, even unthinking, Strange is a formidable opponent. The shield that had been conjured moments ago shunts to the left, spinning so fast as if to appear as a solid circle. The golden disk slices through the creature, carving a razor thin line directly in half. The action is so swift that the monstrous form is able to scuttle a few more feet before the two halves fall away from each other, tumbling to the ground.
Almost as immediately as the mystic shield performs its surgical slice, Strange turns to face the spider on his right, his hand already spinning to conjure...a portal? Sparks fly from the edge as a circle forms, the center of which is dark...some nameless location devoid of life. This portal is *shoved* at the encroaching creature...but it is much too small to take all of it. Which...seems to be the point as the portal plows through the thorax, taking the body of the arachnid into its gaping maw. The circle of light disappears....leaving eight legs, attached to nothing.
- John Constantine has posed:
The portal snares two of the three - one approaching the point guard and one from the rear - that were about midway to making the attack, live and in person, on those outside the astral. The last one made it through before being doomed to being ripped asunder and more are to come. They're coming quickly now, drawn to call by the dying screeches of their family - and the ones approaching do not sound happy about it.
But that isn't the only thing out there to be called to arms - those with a sense of the mystical will feel it easily in the form of a weight that blankets the area as if a thick fog rolled in to chill the air and lent to it a sense of dread.
With one arm wrapped around Camille's shoulders, he ducks to one knee and turns - pivoting his back to that one that broken through to the physical. When he fires off that spell he'd been building, it may be a surprise. Rather than blowing the thing up in mid air, he binds it to the physical, giving it no means of escape - it's a spell meant to keep any more that come out from going back in. There's a method to his madness, truly. John forcefully shoves Camille *that* way, away from the spider before it drops to the ground mere feet behind the Laughing Magician. He turns to face it. The thing rears back on four of its legs, fangs dripping marble sized drop of venom.
All around spiders are dropping like the flies meant to be caught in their webs to the combined efforts of vicious and talented heroes. But they keep coming.
One more drops from the astral near those still with boots on the physical. The distraction causes John to miss a beat - the beat that would have seen the one he was facing exploded into a hailstorm of spider bits.
It looks like the end for the Laughing Magician, it truly does. A drop of that venom hits his trench coat when the spider lunges to display its twisted desire to make John a snack.
Perhaps Camille has enough ammunition to turn the tides back in their favor?
That second stuck in the physical - it's first reaction is to frantically try to escape back to the astral. Its actions prove John's initial thoughts - these things are way more vulnerable in the physical realm.
Shoot'm Camille, Shoot'm!
It's Stephen that gets the first glimpse of it - or at least feels the vibrations of its impending arrival through the astral. The shadwo it casts there before even coming into view is gigantic. The screeching scream of outrage at the death of its 'children' is almost enough to paralyze a person with fear all on its own.
When it finally comes entirely into view, the Mother of All Spiders is large enough to dwarf a metro bus - its fangs the size of a human arm are capable of soccer ball sized 'drops' of venom.
The 'children' left are only a few and each of them save the one intent on eating John Constantine scurry away from the battle, intent on getting back to their Mum.
The one desperately trying to re-enter the astral is a little pitiable.
- Amy Winston has posed:
Amethyst stood at the edge of the shadowy webbed maze, her eyes narrowing as she focused on the massive figure before her-the Nightwalker mother. The creature dwarfed the others, her form a writhing mass of legs and darkness, looming high above the treeline, her body pulsing with unnatural energy. This was no mere spider; this was a creature of nightmares, a queen of the astral realm that had been called into this world for a reason-one Amethyst was determined to uncover.
When she was a baby, Amethyst had a spell cast in the roof of her mouth. The Citrine of Tongues allows her to communicate with any creature with sentience, and when she senses it from the spider, it takes her a couple of moments, before she starts to speak in the spider's language.
"I am Amethyst, Princess of Nilaa and protector of this realm," she announced, her voice calm yet commanding, reverberating with the authority of her royal lineage. The Citrine's power translated her words into the chittering, otherworldly language of the Nightwalkers, the sound echoing in the heavy air. "I invoke the right of parley, creature of the astral plane. I know not how you came to be here, but your presence threatens the balance of this world."
"You will speak," Amethyst continued, her tone sharpening like the blade she carried. "Tell me who summoned you and why you infest this land with your brood. If you refuse me, your life will be forfeit, and I shall see to it that not a single one of your spawn remains."
- Satana Hellstrom has posed:
She can only irritate this thing. But still, she does love irritating. As Amethyst goes to talk to her as the trio of witchy women turn into b*tchy women, Satana flashes her teeth over at Meggan and Amethyst. "Promises, promises." An exaggerated wink is given as the matriarch comes out to play. "Welcome to my parlor, said the tarantula to the spider." She would grin with feral glee..
Then go to teleport over to appear on top of the Matriarch's back, and goes to blast it along the astral realm with bright hellfire flames along the optics. It wouldn't hurt as much as it would have normally, being still in the astral realm, and the spider didn't necessarily need them to -see-..
But it would still hurt, still defy, and still anger it.
"When you have nightmares, dream of me. But that's not going to matter, since there won't be anything left of you -to- matter when we're done." More fire fed to the equivalent of the face, and then Satanna is teleporting away from it, apparating a distance away in a flash. And leaving the Princess between her and the monster. No sense in risking herself, after all.
- Camille Russo has posed:
Camille rolls with the force of John's shove, coming up on a knee with gun in hand already firing into the spider making lunch eyes at their erstwhile leader. One - blows a leg from the body, two - hits mid-gut, while three - hits one of the many eyes, leaving the spider recoiling and skittering away, desperately attempting to phase back into the astral plane and dripping ichor with each lurch of its body.
She turns from it to see an even more gargantuan spider, chittering in what feels like anger. Cam slips a vial from her bandolier, twirling the orange liquid before aiming it directly at the massive target. Not center mass, no, but for those dripping fangs, and she follows up with with the swirling purple, aimed at the long, grasping legs. It's hard to miss such a large target, but it's also a little hard to see how much damage she's done, but she does catch a brief flare of fire and frost as she turns, emptying her clip into retreating spiders without hitting any of her teammates.
That stays her focus as she swaps her spent clip for a fresh one, especially once the Princess starts to *speak* spider. Presumably. Six impossible things, well after the day's breakfast.
- Meggan Puceanu has posed:
The fine art of hurtling directly into a spider usually requires a form of impressive augmentation. Carbonadium tentacles, osmium skin, a blue suit emblazoned by the impressive scarlet "S" and underpants worn on the outside all fit the bill. Meggan lacks the physical stature and armour classically ascribed to heroes that would register as a dangerous foe to astral arthropod, the sort of squishy treat that could cause it to chitter its pedipalps together at. How unfair it is, as certainly she possesses no razor-spun aegis that cleaved another spider-sibling at Strange's expert fingertips a short distance away.
The danger only appears in the moment those deceptively fair hands wrap around its convulsing front leg as it reverses to spring aside or find shelter with the impending horror arising from the enervated webbing.
Will o' wisp motes surround her, sparkling pips in cyanotic blue and white-seared jade flooding over the hardened exoskeleton. Will pushes bits of hell-sung energy through her skin, into the gaps in the carapace necessary for patellas and multijointed limbs to move. Whatever sound the spider can make, it surely might. If voiceless, then its scream takes the form of vibrations to batter the cilia that permeate the suffering creature from the inside out. Maniacal convulsions that plague an intelligent mind supersede it snapping out or finding any purchase after the first horrendous attempt to slash an arm that might be constructed of uru or vibranium.
Not so, in fact. Cloth parts, her fair skin sliced open by the wicked claw and knitting back together after the initial insult. Red blood in semi-corporeal form hits whatever 'ground' exists in the Astral, so overcharged by life essence and magic as to be a beacon for any being with sight, mundane or the capital S sort.
A matter to grit her teeth over, to suppress that cry, and wheel around on the floating tips of her toes. Then she dips her head to Stephen--this, the closest recognition one can ask for in that peculiar state where a word and an oath may hold terrible, palpable force if loosed from her intangible tongue. The Astral's rules and precepts play dangerously well for Gaea's youngest daughter, and she slides behind allied lines to interpose herself almost casually in front of John and Camille, on a diagonal charge that gives plenty of leeway for Rien or Satana to work around her. For Strange to frankly shoot right through her, if needs must.
Sudden movement as she repositions, hurtling the child upon the broodmother. Casual lob that it is, the crumpled up spider hunching its legs together goes ass over tea kettle to ping off a much larger leg, still seething with a complex brew of magical energies held in the barest check. She checks the fall and
Meggan's lobbed a bloody time-detonated bomb at the Mother of All Nightmares, whilst Amethyst seeks diplomatic parlay.
Rule number two of soft diplomacy as the Seelie Court knows it: have a backup plan.
- Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Rien continues to roll around with the spider, trading blows until a final hit of those claws sends the spider into whatever afterlife they can expect. Using a quick spell to remove the toxin from her wounds so they can heal properly, she's in the Astral when the Broodmother appears.
"Merde."
Studying the creature, her brows furrow together, it isn't exactly something that she deals with often. They aren't usually man-eaters unless... provoked. Rien sighs heavily, opening a portal between the Material and Astral so she can poke head and shoulders through. Catching sight of Amy, she lifts a brow as the girl starts talking to the spider.. in 'spider'. Weird. Shaking her head, she looks voer to John and calls out, "This is because of the cave! When I went for the pelts? I saw all kinds of monsters being magically caged, bound to the cave like some D&D version of Cabin in the Woods! One of them was a spider, same as the ones we've been fighting! Might be able to 'talk it down' if we explain that we released her brood, and maybe promise to take down the one that trapped it in the first place!" She looks around at the others, then back to John, "Gonna mark the Broodmother and try to summon her!"
Here she turns towards Strange, "Doctor Strange! Think you can work up a binding to hold it in place when it appears? We need this thing to sit still long enough to listen! Enlist whoever you need to help with it! Gonna do the same on my end!" Rien flashes a grin and a wink to the erstwhile adventurers then steps back into the Astral and starts towards the Broodmother.
They don't have a name, but that's okay. Creatures like this don't need one. She slices open her hand, pulling out some of her own blood and forming it into a summoning symbol, flinging it at the Broodmother to mark the creature. Once she's ensured that the bloodmark has hit the Broodmother, Rien steps back to the Material Plane and looks to Satana and Meggan, "Hey! If either of you want to put some juice behind this, it would be appreciated!" And she begins to chant in some long-dead magical language, weaving the words and flinging her own blood into a summoning circle drawn into the dirt and strengthened by her blood and will. "Tsid aln ithir, curkral ken," is muttered as she uses her claws to cut into the earth, opening wounds again and again to allow blood to properly seal the circle. "Eip cokaln yia ali shienil eipar kol!"
Stepping back, she infuses the circle with her own magic and welcomes others to do the same, brilliant light exploding upwards from the drawn lines in the dirt. "Eip sukon dra, lidmodrir, ali dre matireil klane!"
- John Constantine has posed:
The Mother of All Spiders takes the attacks - she takes them with all the strength of will of a mother angered over the mistreatment of her *child*. Even monsters wish to protect their offspring. The pain inflicted only serves, in this moment, to anger her further.
It's not so much surprising that Amethyst can communicate with mum spider, but it is surprising that the thing answers. "Your kind kidnapped my child, kept it locked in a cage, forced it to guard the secrets of the cave. Your parlay means nothing to me - your kind will suffer for that offence and what's happened here now."
Those that have ventured close enough for a glimpse might have noticed the egg sack undulating and pulsing near the back of her abdomen. Is releasing more of her 'children' her plan to make humankind suffer? She's made no move to launch a counter attack, not yet. Thus far her actions have been only defensive - attempts to toss her attackers free when they're atop her, attempting to catch anyone that's attacking from afar in the webbing shot by spinnerets.
John was stuck between certain death - or at least multitudes of pain - and the Hail Mary of getting a spell off in time. Which way would the cards have fallen? The world will never know. Once he's no longer on the buffet, he turns to look at Camille and toss her a wink, "Nice bloody shot, Poppet." Her ability to stay the course in the face of horrors such as this only make him more determined to make sure Camille gets the magical education she deserves.
In the physical realm, these things are much weaker - it takes John only a few blasts of Hellfire to put the remaining two there out of their misery.
In order to travel into the astral, John Constantine actually has to leave his body behind. It's a risk he's willing to take should the need arise, but it's not one he's *eager* to take. So, he chooses to watch with his dual sight from this side until the need arises - while hoping it won't.
Well, how considerate of Rien to bring the party to him.
Binding is well within his wheelhouse - adding his strength to her spell won't even cause John to break a sweat. He might, however, break one when he realizes that the gem within his pocket is shattered. The venom dripped onto his favorite coat earlier needed only to soak through this clothing and touch skin to cause the spell to be activated. That could have been a close one, even for someone with blood as toxic as his.
- Satana Hellstrom has posed:
Satana Hellstrom is a creature of hell and damnation. A half succubus who revels in it. She's the one that spots the egg sack over on the thing and goes to smile ever so sadistically. <<Anyone feel up for making some stir fry?>> It's out over in the astral and acting defensively still.. She goes to weave her hands together over to start to lend her support over to the energy that's rising up and moves to act as a tether between the physical and the astral realms, even as she's fully in the physical one now, somehow able to interact and manipulate both at the same time in a completely unfair way.
Her magic is channeled up, fed over to Rien even as she goes to sing-song over in a sub-dialect of demonic that any of the magical types could probably recognize that wasn't part of any real sorcery..
But, loosely translated, as 'The Juice Is Loose' in whatever parameter that might be a reference to. A personal joke? A deeper form of magic? SOmething related to the damned realms?
She goes to feed energy over to the others, while glancing at those egg sacks. "I'm sure they can be quite tasty when they're nice and deep fried. Just like cockroaches."
- Stephen Strange has posed:
Well....that is not something you see every day.
Strange's head tilts as he regards Amethyst actually attempting to speak to the spider. A spider that is not a spider, but only arachnid-shaped. Shades of Middle-Earth, indeed. Ungoliant in the flesh, so to speak. Does it make sense to try to negotiate with a brood mother of this power? Initial thoughts would say no.
However, as Rien calls out her plan, a new perspective is obtained. The Broodmother is only following her maternal instincts? Possibly. And to bring the entity to the material plane is smart, for their weakness has been proven, but also dangerous. Does Strange have the strength to hold such a creature fast?
Yes...yes he does. And with John already joining in concert with Rien with his own binding, what he has in mind should be more than enough to hold the Mother of Nightmares fast within the physical realm.
Hands held aloft, as the creature starts to cross over to the physical, Strange's voice calls out, firm and powerful. "Seven rings has Raggadorr, indigo to deepest black. But, Osthur, grant me something more...the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak!"
Solid red bands erupt from the outstretched hands, glowing brightly against the black of the forest. The ribbons of mystical energy lash out, entwining about the physical manifestation of darkness and *pulls*, tugging the huge astral form through Rien's opening to the physical plane. The bindings are strong, to be certain, but not life-threatening. It would take the strength of a juggernaut to shatter such restraints.
- Amy Winston has posed:
Amethyst stood firm, the ethereal glow of her magic swirling around her as she faced the enraged Mother of All Spiders. Her eyes, sharp and unwavering, took in the monstrous being before her, listening as the creature's bitter words echoed through the shimmering web of magic that linked their minds. The revelation of the spider's child being taken, forced into servitude-this was the source of her fury. Even monstrous beings like this mother could be driven to madness by the torment of their young.
Amethyst's jaw tightened. <<I understand the rage of a mother protecting her child,>> she said aloud, her voice calm yet edged with resolve, the magic of the Citrine still translating her words to the great beast. <<But I am no slaver. I seek only to prevent further suffering on either side. If your child has been wronged, I will see justice done, but you must cease your attack, or you risk the annihilation of your brood.>>
Even as she spoke, her hands moved, weaving intricate sigils into the air, her magic intertwining with the others participating in the binding ritual. Rien's spell was already forming its circle, the arcane energies building like a storm on the edge of release. Amethyst closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the raw power of those around her, Rien's steady control, John's unpredictable fire, and the quiet yet fierce presence of others. With a deep breath, she extended her own magic, threading it through the circle, bolstering their efforts with the strength of Nilaa's ancient magic.
Her voice rang out, clear and powerful, within the binding spell's expanding energy. "Rien, I am with you. My magic will strengthen the circle."
Her attention snapped back to the mother spider, who had yet to make her offensive move. She could see the pulsing egg sack on the spider's abdomen, the writhing of her unborn children threatening to be unleashed upon the world. Amethyst's amethyst blade remained at her side, ready for whatever would come, but she held her ground, her magic lacing into the spell that tightened with every second.
<<You speak of vengeance,>> Amethyst said, her tone more pointed now, her voice echoing through the magical barrier. <<But understand this; you choose violence over reason, your children will never see the light of day. I will defend my realm, and those within it. Answer me now, Mother of Shadows; who kidnapped your child? Who has summoned you here? If you wish to see justice, speak. Or else your rage will be your undoing.>>
Finally, to the others she speaks in English. "Someone kidnapped one of her children to protect a treasure in these hills. That's what she claims at least! I can get more information... if we don't kill her!"
- Meggan Puceanu has posed:
All is fair in the name of blood, family, love. How many wars begin over the slight inflicted on a vulnerable relative, much less the cruel misdeeds of a vicious, brutish race? Even if Amethyst could not speak for them, the broodmother's anger would be apparent as a streak of red-rust rage stained into the mountainside.
Meggan puts her hands to her sides, fingers curled against her palms. Subtle variations in her posture don't seek to shrink away from the glistening midnight rage reflected from so very many arachnid eyes turned upon the prospective guilty parties. With her shoulders back and chin raised, she is only a few quick steps and a hop from a full fight.
The magic-charged spider she left alive is well and truly proof of that, all fine conduits of force checked by her concentration and charm.
How Rien bargains only becomes apparent as she spills blood and calls to the succubus and the Tuath scion. Words slip across space and she shoots a look back at John, the inhuman slant of verdant eyes charged by the same fire that seethes through Earth's veins as living ley-mana. Unspoken words plumb troves worth of intent before she extends her palm in benediction or supplication, the difference in shades of grey.
Luminous as she was in the Astral, it's fairly nothing to the seal around her left wrist manifesting from the white-scarred Celtic knotwork. Radiant lines converge and spin in masterful design as they come alive and shift.
Fretwork delicately scaffolding her forearm shifts and the wild halo of her flaxen hair becomes the stuff of starlight and sunshine entwined. Pointed ears, Galadrielesque tresses, go. Wild energy shifts to a taut pull as she backchannels the torrent out of the suffering spider into Rien, a rivulet tributary of a torrential river. Her mellifluous voice plies a richer lyric than her human guise could ever attain on its own, a mezzosoprano plundered by the melodies of Ireland and harps on lonely moors under bright, slanting sunshine. Child of Gaea; Tuath de Danaan. They ain't just fae. A sickle of a smile poised on gleaming lips refracts the pain of binding herself to a night-stained landscape and deeper hurts besides.
"Do no harm, Mother. They would aid you. Or stray, and end unto your last generation."
- Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
With everyone pooling power together to force the summoning and binding of the Broodmother, Rien steps back as the giant creature is brought forth into the Material Plane and bound into the cirle by the will of her companions. She lets out a breath and performs a last spell (for the moment anyways)... a translation spell to allow the Broodmother to understand and be understood.
"Apologies, Broodmother, for the attacks on your children. We were protecting our own people, as I'm sure you understand. But we are not the ones that trapped your young. We found the cave. *I* released your child from its cage. I know your kind. You are not indiscriminate killers. You hunt to survive, and you bother nobody unless first bothered. We do not seek quarrel with you and yours. We will, however, be most happy to find the one that bound your child and ensure that they cannot do so again. Would this be an acceptable way to end hostilities between your kind and ours? Take your brood, go back to your lives, and we will ensure the human responsible will pay for his actions."
Rien's not usually the one trying to talk through things. She's generally the one called in when talking has failed and something more.. permanent.. is required. But that isn't to say she can't! It's just.. not something she's necessarily VERSED in. Diplomacy doesn't tend to work with demons, after all.
She glances to John and sticks out her tongue, "Your selkies got their pelts back, so I don't want to hear about 'rah rah loosing monsters on the world'... you know you've done similar things in similar situations." And worse, but she isn't going to bring that up! Bad form and all that.
- Camille Russo has posed:
"That horrid sorcerer, Baron curse him for eternity. Tell Big Mama she's welcome to eat him. I'll even cleave him into parts if she needs him bite-sized for transport. Once we find him, that is." She can *feel* the magic being channeled, and it's easy to press her hand into the back of John's neck, sending her own magic for him to direct outward and into the binding. Cam's a steady presence at his back, eyes sharp and watching the goings-on, buffeted by the sort of power she's only ever seen in the largest gatherings at home, hair-raising and humbling in the awe they inspire. Steady is what her line has always been, as far back as the stories go. Protectors. And that's the power she sends through John. Strong, steady, ready to leap to defense.
She laughs at Rien's quips, tipping her head back as she does, unwilling to hide her mirth at their banter. "But seriously, one of y'all tell her we're still hunting that asshole if she'd like to help some sisters out. And John."
- John Constantine has posed:
Left with nothing to do save reinforce the fact that Momma Horror isn't going anywhere, John takes the opportunity to light himself another ciggie. He's only had the *one* since this all began, it's a wonder he's not spontaneously combusted or something. Keeping it tucked between his lips he tells Amethyst, "I know the place. Some bloody wanker of a sorcerer was keepin' the pelts of three selkies hidden in a cave not far from here. Got the pelts back but *someone*..." Rein. "Broke the magic binding the creatures guarding the cave without properly thinking it through, ey?" So, truth be told - that happy accident set her bloody kid free, dinnit?"
...and a whole lot of other things that have yet showed their faces.
<<This is the way you think to convince me to spare your kind? More threats to my children? Are you foolish enough to believe that I am the only one of my kind and more won't follow? Arrogant humans. You cage or kill that which you do not understand.>> The weight of the dread she actually projects, lessens only slightly when Rien speaks.
They say you catch more flies with honey - is the same true for Nightmare Mother Spiders?
"Meg, luv, imagine your wrath, the destruction you would throw down if it was *Ceci* caught and trapped in a cage and stand down a bit, ey? So far all she's done is let her kids eat one camper - bloke probably had it commin'?" Or not, but does it really matter? He can't help but to empathize with her plight now - and feel a little bad about finishing off a few of her kids. At least she has a good fifty or more hanging out on her back, right? John actually pulls back his contribution to the binding as a show of good faith - besides, it's not like Stephen can't handle it on his own anyway.
He steps forward to stand next to Meggan, but turns back to toss another wink in Camille's direction - 'kid' does have moxie and he likes that. So long as it doesn't end in her dead. "Meg, luv, talk to her as a *mother*," he prompts gently. Together as a *couple* or not - his feelings for Meggan are still there. She's the mother of his child, the fierce loving mother of his child. If anyone gets where another fierce mother is coming from, it's Meggan.
Rien, he'll get to that quip in a minute.
- Amy Winston has posed:
Amethyst turned to John, her expression calm despite the chaos that surrounded them. She listened carefully, absorbing the information he provided about the selkies and the accidental release of the mother spider's child. A soft sigh escaped her lips-not one of frustration, but of quiet understanding. This situation was far more complicated than it first appeared. When she speaks, she alternates between English and Spiderspeak, so that both sides know what she's saying.
She stepped forward, the glow of her magic still swirling gently around her, and raised her voice, carrying a regal poise, tempered with empathy. "Mother of Shadows, I offer no threats to your children, and it is not my intent to cage or kill what I do not understand." Her tone was warm but firm, the voice of a princess who had seen both peace and war, and preferred the former. "We are not your enemies, nor are we the ones who wronged you."
Amethyst's gaze softened as she continued, her words chosen with care. "It was not by our hands that your child was imprisoned, and now that it is free, we have no desire to do it harm. What has happened here is a result of missteps and mistakes, not malice. We understand the pain and the fury you feel, and we are prepared to right these wrongs."
With a graceful gesture, she extended her hand, not in challenge but in a symbolic offering. "Give us time; just a few days to resolve this. We will find the one responsible for your child's suffering, and we will see to it that justice is done. But we cannot do this while locked in combat. Let us help you, as we have no desire to see any more blood spilled."
Her voice lowered, though still carrying the weight of her authority. "You are not alone, and there is no need for more of your kind to follow. Let us end this conflict now, with words, not weapons. I, Amethyst, Princess of Nilaa, give you my word that we will not rest until we have corrected what has been done to your child."
She paused, allowing the mother spider a moment to process her words, then added softly, "We are not like those who came before. We seek understanding, not destruction."
With that, she steps back, providing translation as needed. Meggan can speak more to the heart of the matter. But the Princess had to add her own thoughts, headstrong thing she is.
- Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Human. Cute. The spider receives a lofty arch of Meggan's glowing brow. All the variations on names like Fionnabhair, Gwion, Aelwen, or Gwenhwyfar that grind through Brythonic origins back to 'fair' aren't entirely far removed from the Silmarillion enclothed in feminine likeness over yonder. Energy swirls in livid revolutions, lacing her presence like the borrowed smoke from the Silk Cut burning at John's lips or the shifting morass of shadows between the trees.
Stilled to silence, she breathes in the cool air permeated by the flicker-flash of rage and maternal defensiveness, soothing clarity reflected back from Strange and Amethyst, and a host of more bottled up in a fizzy drink concoction that both tempts her to drink it and pushes her to let it go. The slender divide of John's reasoning clearly makes it through the maelstrom of empathic resonance pulled out of the Mother of All Spiders.
That's the other dangerous side of the empathic coin, being an emotivore. With power comes responsibility and a cost. Pushing back on the oceanic pressure takes her several moments to collect her way, and she smooths her hair past her backswept ears. A breath not necessary to sustain her escapes, near pure oxygen--mind the flammability--and she forces her voice back into a mostly human register. Faerie-bell choruses need not apply.
"You have reason to act in anger for the harm done to your children," she begins slowly, palms open and outstretched. "We have our own young one. How can you help your child by lashing out in anger at those who blindly cross your path? You may kill some. You may injure them. But does not restore the lost one, and you may be too weak to rescue them." Words aren't always her strong suit, not like this when the world sings to her in a thousand colours, like Camille might hear and perceive the realms of the dead when those around her are blind and deaf. Or how flat and unremarkable the world would be if not endowed with Rien's senses or Satana's planar perspectives on life.
The inflection point isn't in words, though they come, but rather attuning herself to the alien but familiar feelings impressed around the giant broodmother spider. Plucking the chords, and reflecting them back, overlaid by her own. "Violence will not find them and return them to the safety of the nest."
Never mind how many times heroes prove the exception to the rule, but neither here nor there. "They all speak better than I ever can. Listen to their wisdom. Accept help; protect your children free and unhatched. We cannot do everything for them alone."
- John Constantine has posed:
The lengthy silence from the mother spider stretches on and on... and on. It's easy to see her struggling - an internal war between her desire to make humans pay and her desire to keep her children safe from them.
Finally she speaks. <<I will give you the chance to prove to prove your words. I will give you one cycle of the moon to bring me the human responsible.>>
Deal struck, Stephen releases his hold on her - it's just enough of a release for her to break any ties that still bind. She slips silently back into the astral. The dark webbing over the trees, strung across their tops and woven through their branches and trunks vanish as if they were never there to reveal the sun shining brightly in the sky above.
"Well, that didn't end like I expected it would," John mumbles around the Silk Cut dangling between his lips. He turns to face the others, claps his hands and rubs them together before asking, "So, who wants to hunt down the bloody wanker what caused all of this?"
Any volunteers? Yes, no?
Seems this didn't have a bloody thing to do with Galactus now did it?
He turns again toward Meggan and winks. "See now, luv, all that bluster for nothin'?" His tone's light, teasing.
Current crisis averted, next one surely on the horizon - John opens the portal to the House of Mystery again, it's welcome marked by that signature swirling purple fog.