439/Smol Screm!

Smol Screm!
Date of Scene:	11 March 2020
Location:	Brooklyn
Synopsis:	A cat causes terrible trouble.
Cast of Characters:	Illyana Rasputina, Wade Wilson, Zatanna Zatara, Alison Blaire, Jubilation Lee, Roberto da Costa

---

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
The familiar voiceover summons thousands of eager viewers to their computers, phones, or various other devices. Some slinky music ripples over the screen as the intro, "And welcome everyone... to tonight's episode of Natural 20! Where a group of very normal," stress being on the latter word, accompanied by laughter, "people get to hang around with New York's most lucky guy. Super excited to be back!"

The narrator is a rather handsome devil, in that he is /literally/ a handsome devil named Kerr. Or at least his role is quasi-Dungeonmaster, quasi-gig delivery guy. Totally normal in every way except how unnatural normal is. "Seriously, though, we are delighted to be with you tonight in the Question Room. Our hosts down here in gorgeous Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn's coolest neighbourhood waiting to be gentrified! Welcome new viewers, welcome first timers. Don't worry, I don't bite unless you ask nicely. So without further ado, let's meet up with everyone as they finally get over that unfortunate diplomatic issue with the Korai invaders near the Seaglass Carousel in Battery Park."

For previous viewers, that was a case where several incredibly militaristic blue-skinned aliens in sleek white and black outfits a bit disturbingly like the Fantastic 4's showed up, and insisted they were on an advanced scouting unit coming to inform the world's leader they were invading and adding Earth to the Korai Empire. To a totally normal, totally unsuperheroic person, maybe the last one in New York. The show's star: Swift. Who then had to negotiate with the mayor's office while they threatened interstellar war.

So begins the broadcast and, if your life sucks, podcast, simultaneously shown. The cutscreen shows Swift, a young man in his mid-twenties, in typical New Yorker fare finally trudging in across the stage of the cool theatre. It's one of those kinds of places that hosts improv nights and D&D games, offbeat musical-theatre numbers that actually prove funny.

Natural 20 is a livestreaming show based on a highly popular podcast and graphic novel of the same name. The breakout stars are Aiden Stewart, playing "Swift," a typical New Yorker who manages to somehow get into atypical superhero experiences with absolutely zero powers except a really cool haircut and good fortune. He's got no idea whatsoever basically his entire social circle are all honest to goodness supernatural beings. (Or think they are.) That Swift keeps getting into the most unlikely scenarios makes their boring supernatural life more fun.

Neither is he at all aware they're using their powers to save his bacon. A lot.

Wade Wilson has posed:
Deadpool admittedly thought he was in line to be in the studio audience for Dr. Phil. He really wanted to talk to the good doctor. He had a suspicion, after all, that he might be just a little bit crazy. Nuts. Bonkers. Wonkers. Chonkers.

Okay, now I'm just thinking of nicknames for an obese cat. FOCUS, WADE.

Anyway, instead it's this podcast thing. Sure, why not? It was like the classic days of radio, the golden era, except without all of that pesky talent! This guy's just as good as Jack Benny or Groucho Marx, right?

*ceaseless weeping*

Okay! Sorry, I'm posing, I'm posing, GOD, don't be so impatient, just eat your Digiorno. They've got more cheese now, it'll take longer to chew. Anyway, Deadpool is in the audience, sitting quietly and completely inconspicuous if you don't count the red and black outfit, the katanas, the submachine gun or the way he keeps shouting "WHERE'S DR. PHIL?" at the host.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Tonight, they have an extra seat on stage which means an extra player. And it's clear that Kerr is excited to introduce her. "Speaking of Natural 20s, we have with us in studio tonight a special guest! We love her Tik Toks, and she's a big fan of the show -- and we all know it's our hosts favorite crush, Crits and Fails, lets welcome the one and only, the Mistress of Magic, and the reason why Karma is crying in her Ben and Jerry's tonight, Zatanna Zatara!"

It was not the introduction that Zatanna was hoping for, the young woman coming in to take her seat at the table. But she's dressed up for the livestream - the fishnets and corset with magician's garb are on full display as she makes her way to settle into her seat. "Evening, everyone! I'm really glad to be here... I wish Karma was here, she was always my favorite!"

It's a small dig at the host. She was not the fan of the breakup -- or rather, that some unreachable crush on //her// was the reason for the breakup. "I hope wherever she is, that she's doing well... and I'll be pulling for her. But as I'm told in my contracts, the show must go on!" She laughs lightly at that as she settles into her seat... just as Deadpool takes up the catcall.

"Next studio over! Love the cosplay! Spider-Man and Punisher crossover?"

Alison Blaire has posed:
Did Alison know where she was going when she left the house today? Someone might have mentioned it to her, but then maybe she just decided to roll the dice and see where she ended up.

Get it? Anyways. Alison is part of the studio audience, dressed in as normal a choice of clothing as she can in some attempt to not draw attention to herself. She's just quietly watching, nothing odd about any of this.

Even the catcalling is normal, isn't it?

Jubilation Lee has posed:
Jubilee don't miss an episode of N20, not for class, and certainly not for a tender date. Sitting at a table with her date, she keeps glancing down at her phone, glasses up on her forehead and yellow jacket hanging from the back of her seat. "What?" Glancing up at the person across from her, I was asking what you do for a living... "Oh... I'm seveteen years old, I don't do anything for a living." Furrowing her brow, how did this squeaker sneak past her right thumb swipe?!

"Shut up for a second, they're getting to the good part." Holding up a hand in the dates face, glancing down at her phone. She bets they don't even watch N20. It's always the way, never what the profile says, amirite? Ya think you're getting Miss America Chavez, but it's really Miss Kentucky State Fair.

Roberto da Costa has posed:
Roberto as it turns out is a bit of a closet fan of N20, catching up on it between episodes of Magnum on Netflix, but tonight as a little pre-birthday treat he was here live to watch the show in person and claps along with the audience as Zatanna comes on stage.

As he sits down he catches sight of Jubilee and her date, trying to catch his fellow student's eye he flashes her a thumbs up.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
"Hurry up!" This comes from Clara, the perfect girl-next-door who can also benchpress skyscrapers or modestly loaded tanks for fun. Also known as Swift's best friend. "We're going to be late and miss the surprise!" Following her is the other resident mage, Ana. Ana who manages to keep a straight face seeing a man in red and black sitting in the audience, bedeviling a /damn devil/.

While the frisson of excitement of Zatanna's arrival earns the perked interest of darn near everyone on stage, Clara steers Raine, the telepathic genius of the group, through the open doors. Raine, as ever, is dressed to the nines in designer clothes even though he is literally schlepping it down in a dusty part of Brooklyn. He looks completely out of place, and his gaze scours the shadows. "Wait. Something's wrong here... Where's Karma?"

"You have nothing to worry about. She's probably just getting a night-mare latte," Swift is busy saying, waving to his friends. And Zatanna, who he grins at with awe. "Hey doll. If I could just contribute--" Which brings an alarmed look to the couple's face.

Sliding out of the shadows comes Grey, thief extraordinaire and possibly assassin type, practically manifesting out of the gloom. "The rest of you, keep an eye on the performers around here. And the audience. Ask around, see what you can find. As for the others, don't go far."

Ana blinks. "The innocent patrons, you mean?"

That's when the shadows themselves start to creep in flight, as the lighting intensifies around the stage, bathing everyone in an intense glow. The kind to make pancake makeup melt right off. One of the bulbs pops, loudly, and the strangest reverb starts shaking through the theatre. For those who can hear, it hurts -- at decibels making a jet engine sound nice. Shaking, trembling, full of wrath that shake the performance hall. The actors collapse in various forms of agony, hitting the ground.

Wade Wilson has posed:
Deadpool shouts back at Zatanna, "How dare you! I'm clearly doing a Spider-Man Vs. Predator cosplay! Also, HOLY SCHNIKES AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGA HOT HOT HOT YOWZA WOWZA HOOOOOOOOOOOONK! Which is to say you look quite attractive this evening and I give compliments to your stylist."

He cocks his head at the words from the thief and then the shadows start to come alive, "Crap. I try to go to Dr. Phil and I get dropped straight into Hereditary! That's a much more successful horror film and a reference most people should get if they're keeping up with the horror side of pop culture, Toni Colette is a gem, don't miss it, it's on Amazon Prime for free, what's your excuse?!?"

He draws his katanas and rapidly tippy-toe hops across the back of the seats somersaulting at last onto the stage in a proper criss-cross-applesauce sword pose.

"I probably can't cut shadows, but I'm gonna try! C'mon, Peter Pans, let's get nuts!"

Alison Blaire has posed:
As someone who is not a closet fan Alison is a little confused as to what is going on, because somehow she misunderstood what it was she was going to watch. The blondes brows furrow, and she starts to turn towards the individual that is sitting next to her in the audience, voice lowering so that she can whisper, "Wha..."

But then things go very wrong, the light kicking up, and the sound kicking in causes her question to die before it fully forms. She glances upwards towards the source of the light, then around towards the shadows that are starting to move, "Oh no."

Oh. No. Alison scrambles up from her seat, then starts to move down the row of people, "Excuse me. Pardon me. Sorry." Can they hear her over the noise? Probably not at all, but she's too polite to not offer the apologies anyways. Noticably, for some, neither the bright light nor the loudness of the noise itself seems to be bothering her.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Smiling at the others as they arrive, Zatanna makes herself a little more comfortable. The stage is her element, after all. "I promise I won't use any legerdemain on the cards." she quips playfully as she finally turns her full attention upon the host, and her lips pull into a smile at his compliment and offer.

"Now now, Swift, it's my turn to contribute tonight." Zatanna offers up with her usual flair and playfulness. "But before you ask, I should set the record straight." Normally, the young woman plays coy when it comes to relationships and whether or not she's single or with someone. However, the recent grief on reddit's r/nat20s and on other forums has the mage wanting to clear the air.

The blush in her cheeks seems genuine, the amused twinkle in her eyes. "I am seeing someone. It's new. And I'm excited about it."

New? Could it be that Swift has circled Zatanna with his down to Earth aww-shucks New York charm? Could it be fair that Karma was right in her jealousy?

She never gets a chance to clarify. She feels the change -- but Deadpool's latest catcall catches her off-guard and before she can respond or investigate to the noise, she's caught in the epicenter of the scream as it eminates out.

It overwhelms her equilibrium and breaks her concentration and the pain of it doesn't even give her a chance to mutter a 'Elffum' to try to get herself to think. Both hands pressed hard to her ears, she doubles over, trying to get herself pulled together.

Jubilation Lee has posed:
Jubilee is doing everything in her power to both ignore her date and not be rude about it, on account of there's a Zatanna Zatara on set and, without putting to fine a point on it.. "Juicy gossip!" She murmurs, What? "Huh?" You said something... "I said.. uh.. juicy .. cauliflower.." Motioning at her plate, side eyeing the screen of her phone laying near her plate, "Simply stunning, noice choice.. and.. you were saying something about-" The date goes off on words that never end and, therefore, are not important.

NPCs.

Jubes glances away with a quiet, "Uh huh... yeah, sounds exciting.. Oh, I can't ima-" Is that Roberto? She winks across the short gap towards him, double pointing at her screen, definitively mouthing Natural Twenty.

When the shriek happens and the cast start dropping like a house cards in a hurricane. "Uh.. Shut up." Hand up again, angled out towards the person across from her, "Is that... wait... hold on. What's even going on right now." Pushing away from the table, "I need to go.." We didn- "I get it, let me save you some time.. I'm a mutant and I didn't put it on my profile. Seriously, I grow a super long prehensile tail and fart toxic gas when excited. Clearly we're not meant to be. This was awesome though.. ten of ten, would swipe right again." Moving backwards, jacket sliding off the back of her chair to swing around onto one arm and then the other. "Yo.." To Berto.

"I don't suppose you have a teleporter in your backpocket it, or failing that, a really fast car parked outside? We're a couple blocks from the set.. and I'd /really/ like to get Zatanna Zatara's autograph." Pause.. "I mean, if she isn't.. like.. dead or something.." fingers crossed.

Roberto da Costa has posed:
Roberto shudders as things begin to darken, it wasn't just the light going it was the heat, and he feels the loss of both keenly. It's all he can do not to borrow someone else's catchphrase, 'flame on' and turn up the heat around himself.

Still the mutant makes his way towards the stage, "What's going on, and where's that sound coming from?" he asks as he climbs up to check on the fallen actors.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
In the mayhem, trying to hear one's own thoughts is next to impossible unless you're a disco queen.

Falling glass and the squeal of metal drown under the fading, strident MEW mew **MEW**. Lighting fixtures yanked from their moorings crash down, spidery black pipes and loose wires torn free in a cascade of sparks that somehow manages to make Deadpool hitting the stage so much more impressive. His katana shears through one of the falling truss about to crash down on him and Ana's prostrate body. PRONE, Wade. PRONE. Like several audience members on the cusp of unconsciousness slithering to the floor or slumped over as the primal, shrieking fury exhausts itself.

Shadows twitch and contract, heaving into mad forms that writhe and storm around the ceiling. Pot lights sway madly back and forth, some crashing around the cast. If Zatanna had loose clothing, it would be flapping around. Swift's perfect hair fans out around his ashen face. The churning, smoky shapes pivot around a point above the stage, but the weird, eerie tendrils lashing out have a quality of prehensile limbs reaching out for anyone they can reach. Alison scrambling up might feel the icy chill of something long -- and slithery -- snatching at her shirt. Like tiny hooks are caught up in the fabric and then pull away. Berto is well placed to see the eight foot long squid-like appendage, and then a wriggling mass in the swirling winds coming for /him/.

Jubes doesn't even get six feet in Roberto's direction when the square air diffuser, two feet by two feet, shakes free and threatens to land right on her head along with about twenty years of accumulated dust. The jet-engine MEW! expires with one last wail.

Wade Wilson has posed:
OH NO! INNOCENT BYSTANDERS ENDANGERED! HIS ADORING PUBLIC! WHATEVER SHALL DEADPOOL DO?

Wait. I don't care. Do I look like Billy Batson? I mean, sorry to be you, fella, but you go to be in the live studio audience of a roleplaying podcast, you're taking your life into your own hands, those are just the facts.

"Hey, lady, your clothes are moving, better take 'em off for safety!" he yells. He very carefully nudges some of the unconscious people off the stage with the point of his shoe. It's not a very long fall. They'll be fine. Probably.

Alison Blaire has posed:
There is one benefit to the noise, for her, and that it allows her to absorb and pack away energy for later use. Although everyone else probably distinctly hates the sound, she is glad of it.

Of course, then it stops.

The grabbing of those slithery shadow tendrils is enough to give Alison the willies, and once she hits the aisle she squirms, hands reaching back to bat and flap around to try and knock them away. "Oh god!" It's a instinctual, knee-jerk, omgwtf moment that sends her hustling as fast as she can towards the stage, "Get it off!"

Then somewhere, deep down further instincts kick in and those waving hands do more then wave around, she starts to flick bright flashes of light from her fingertips.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Focus, Zee! Focus like your life depends on it. Because it does!

Her brain is being rattled around like balls in a bingo basket. Her coat, fortunately buttoned, does not allow Wade a free peek at the goods, her hair whipping around her. And as she tries to push herself on her knees, she moves under the table, letting it buffer the noise, if only slightly.

That guy with all the guns seems fairly sure of himself, and she can sense or see others moving... first things first. She narrows her thoughts, trying to push out the voice that screams in her ears, worse than a vuvuzela at a football game.

Football, not soccer. She's a refined American, dammit! And that's what draws her focus to finally speak. Her words are careful, sharp...

"Dens lla seoreh-non ot Rd. Lihp!"

Dr. Phil was the only thing she could pull out of her head, the noise is that overwhelming for her. He's a doctor. He's nearby. He can triage. She'll just send them all the non-hero guests here! And trust her magic to know which is which.

She'll apologize later to Deadpool if that screws him up.

Jubilation Lee has posed:
Unfortunate eventualities!

Odd shifts in things!

If she thinks about it too hard, Jubilee still doesn't quite know what's going on, but that's half the point. The shouting is... not pleasant, but she's not up on stage. Even still she closes down her phone and shoves it into a back pocket as she nears to 'Berto, but doesn't get far before the sound of crashing air diffuser comes falling down with a rain of dust particulates all around her current position!

"Son of a bi-" She dives away as it hits the ground where she'd been standing, tucking her legs forward to pull them over and between her palms gripping the back of a chair to either side of where she'd been sitting with her date. Kong leaping forward through the crowd towards the Stage.

Bloody thankful that the wailing is died down and not splitting her brain in exactly two parts.

"I don't know what's going on.." But most of the non-coms are gone, so that's a bonus! Yay magic, not at all creepy or weird... Jubes has her hands up and out, but there's.. like, who does she attack? Wide eyed glancing around, spinning in a small circle, "So... what the fuck?"

Roberto da Costa has posed:
Craziness abounds? Check. Non-Coms gone? Check. Definitely time to forget about subtle and kick some ass. Roberto triggers his abilities and his skin turns blacker than black as it drinks in what little light is around him, while at the same time he's wreathed in firey aura.

Seeing the whirling mass coming towards him he grits his teeth and raises his hands, "Please work, I hate hentai," he says as he fires a concussive blast of heat from hands with all the force of a runaway eighteen wheeler behind it right into the center of the mass.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
The writhing kalamari monstrosity taking a force blast dead center dissipates, a lone beam cutting through it, but the surging tide of a tempest in a theatre keeps going by ripping things from the walls and roof. It's an equal opportunist. Berto's safe... or is he?

Alison's tentacle recoils when she flings her hands up to protest its grabby nature. It flails around, lashing out at a share, ripping off a hunk of the metal backing and flinging that into the air. Berto is precisely aligned to get that flying right as his blind spot. The wicked, filament-like hooks snap out to find something -- her, a seat, the floor -- with prejudice or a wild flailing of its own fear. Flashes of light cause the shadowy appendage to do a desperate squirmy dance to get away, the pop-bursts sending bits of ichorous smoke into the air that smell weirdly of burnt red cedar and petrichor. It's actually a bit nice.

Another buckling light fixture the size of a keg finally snaps from its tether. The black metal cylinder smashes onto the prone form of A-- And then there is no Ana. She pops out through the floor falling in like a funnel. But the bouncing light goes skittering right for Dr. Phil's best heckler, at a weird angle that just might connect with him in the chest. Air rushes in to fill the void where the innocent patrons vanish and presumably reappear in Dr. Phil's table at Spago restaurant in Beverly Hills. Yes, Virginia, it's raining men. Hallelujah, and women! Zatanna's spell fits in while the shadows lash out at her and Deadpool with equal anger, the waterspout of greyish maws and snapping squid tentacles trying to fling the merc up by the leg and the magician by blowing her into a fallen metal beam.

What does Jubes attack with a chair? There's all but one of the cast unconscious on the ground, and a teeny tiny little knot of Vantablack shadow bristling with cold standing out to Berto's senses. She might see several of the tentacles lashing out to slap around Clara's actress, grabbing her to fling her off into the audience pit. Might stop it, if she's fast enough!

Wade Wilson has posed:
He's not technically a hero, no, but if Zatanna's spell worked like that, wouldn't the bad guys have been teleported away, too? Huh? HUH?!? No, it's all about the intent, she was getting the civilians out of the way and now it's time for Deadpool to do what he does best and save the d--

GUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURK

"Okay, I seem to have...I have a large tentacle thrusting through my chest cavity. Just next to my thorax here, yes, even you have a thorax, even if you're not an insect. Clipped my breastbone, oh, look, there's a little splinter of it. Like a toothpick. That's probably bad. On the other hand, I did forget to floss this morning, so might be a good reminder from the universe."

"So, I'm going to cut this tentacle off after it finishes rummaging in my innards - OW MY SPLEEN - but I think this might be a magic problem. So magic lady, if you could bust out the One Ring or the Elder Wand or the Eye of Agamotto or whatever you have hidden in your dainties and do it on the pronto, my lower GI tract would be SUPER appreciative."

Impaled on a tentacle and dangling in the air, Deadpool swipes behind his back with a sword and tries to cut his way free.

Alison Blaire has posed:
The recoiling is good! It's...a win? Small win, but a win. What isn't a win is the reactive flailing that causes those hooks to snag and grab at her, catching on hair and skin, even parts of her clothes as Alison moves for the stage.

It doesn't take her more than a moment before she scrambles up onto the stage with the familiar ease of someone used to getting on and off stages without being so mundane as to use the stairs. The small win with the flailing cues her to try something bigger, something brighter.

"Cover your eyes!" Alison yells at the others as she starts to glow, low and peacefully at first, giving anyone the time to close their eyes that wants to before she starts funneling the energy absorbed from that loud jet-engine like sound earlier into trying to glow brighter.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Okay, apparently Zatanna will be apologizing for Deadpool not to have dinner with Dr. Phil. Sorry, Deadpool!

But now, with the civilians out of the way, Zatanna can concentrate. "Okay, you want to play Call of Cthulu..." Zatanna can focus /finally/ on the situation at hand and Deadpool's call out to her. "Do I look like a watery tart that hands out swords?" she asks sourly. But -- yes, gaping chest wound? That's bad. She doesn't know about Deadpool's latent healing ability.

Her hands rise and press to her stomach.

"Dnib sih sdnouw!"

He asked for the One Ring or Eye of Agamotto -- what he gets is instead a Drindl of Binding that heals all wounds as long as it's tied up -- and it's fitted for Zatanna, which means it's two sizes two small for Deadpool's waist. As Zatanna works under the laws of equivelant exchange and she didn't exactly bring summoning materials with her... that corset of binding? The only material she had to work with was that tentacle in Deadpool's mid-section. Slimy, and tight. Like his last girlfriend.

"Sessalgnus!" she calls out, a pair of sunglasses appearing on her eyes to shield herself from Alison's light.

Deal with it.

"Now where's that Lovecraftian bitch?"

Jubilation Lee has posed:
"There it is." Jubilee is holding a chair like a WWE wrestler, brandishing it over her head in a kamakaze run towards a tentacle or mass of shadowy blob, or whatever. She's not super picky. She rushes at it and hurls the chair over her head towards it, then holds both hands out to send streamers of brightly colored pink/blue/and yellow light bursting from her palms right at the massive ... thing... near Roberto!

The streamers whistle around themselves, doing loops as they approach, and even if they don't hit... they explode into bright bursts of expanding light at the appex of their traversal across the stage, "Take that you abysal creature of the void! You unsubstantial glob of non comporial festitude! You-" Oh God, Wade has a tenticle through his chest cavity.

And he's playing with it.

Jubes turns to the side and vomits where she stands, "That is so fucking gross.." Urrrrggghlleee.. "Oh sweet merciful Bahamut..." glrrrrrrgh... "That cauliflower was not juicy.."

Pointing up at Zee from where she's leaning over retching, her own purple shades falling down over her eyes without any intervension of her own, "I get that reference.." GRAAAGGH... "Christ.."

Roberto da Costa has posed:
Berto lets out a 'woo' as he blasts the whatever it is into next week, but it's a short lived victory, whatever was going on is still going on, he feels the ping of cold in his senses and turns to warn Jubes only to find her already weilding a chair.

Allison's warning is met with a grin as Roberto turns towards her, prepared to drink in all the light sent his way like she did with jet engine kitten screech.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
It's a Lovecraftian cyclone spinning around a stage. Some things are bound to be horrific. Deadpool is flung around a bit by the wriggling tentacle performing street surgery, Bruce Banner in a subcontinent slum-style. Shadows writhe and darken where his blood presumably adds to the mix, until he starts cutting into the semi-corporeal substance and wrenches around his inner organs in the most questionable fashion. The tourniquet of Zatanna's spell at least closes some of the damage.

Clara is flung into the audience, where her unconscious body torpedoes through the seating. She tumbles like a ragdoll to lie battered on the ground, sprawled out. Grey is facedown, while Swift gets swept violently sideways to smash through a few useful crates. Unkind ghostly feelers tear at his skin and his clothes, leaving bruises and patchy scratches weeping blood. Black winds mutter in fell tones as they amplify their ferocity, hurling stage-junk around Raine, the technopath playboy. Those might be doing actual harm. Pieces plow down as the energy weakens the outer reaches in closest proximity to the deadly light, spasming and fleeing away. Alison's glow causes a sudden retreat of the inchoate midnight storm raging over N20's actors and the assorted heroes. Plasmic streamers punch holes and burn eerie patches into the amorphous blackness, and where they close up the rest of the mass is somehow a little less -- or significantly less -- dark. Patches of ceiling are actually visible, and the wreckage to the Question Room becomes more visible.

The little vantablack knot goes darting off, moving at rapid speed away to the far corner.

Wade Wilson has posed:
Deadpool collapses to his hands and knees with the magical binding wrapped around his mid-section. It squeezes him a bit low at first while his opening is still spreading, so he spills a little from his cleavage, like Italian dressing when you don't put the cap on all the way. Chunky Italian dressing, the kind with the little tomato lumps. Only in this case, those lumps are his gall bladder!

He didn't need it anyway.

"This...this...oh god...this...I can't...this...this..."

He springs up to his feet, "This thing makes my boobs look fabulous!" he says. His chest wound has already healed again and soon he's crushing his pecs together with his hands, "I mean, I've got a bit too much muscle tissue to really get a proper set of wabos, but I gotta say, my waist has never felt slimmer."

Alison Blaire has posed:
Everyone warned, and the black goop seeming to dislike the light, Alison keeps hitching that brightness up as much as she possibly can. If Roberto wants to absorb the light like she absorbed the sound, he seems to be welcome to it.

Alison only has so much to give before she runs out of reserves, and before she gets to that point she pushes that light as bright as she can, and spreads out out as far from her as she can for twenty seconds or so before the light starts to ebb and she begins to run out of reserves.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Panting softly as she gets out her first couple of spells, Zatanna smiles as Alison shows off the skills that she didn't show at the recording studio. "...thanks." she offers gratefully to the blonde music show, before her attention turns to the knot of utter darkness. "Karma?" she asks, raising her voice towards the creature. "You don't want to do this. He's a jackass for what he did. Especially for a crush on something he only saw on YouTube..."

"Keep the tentacles at bay, or help the cast!" she calls to the others, her expression saddened at what she sees. "...they don't deserve this. Maybe one of them does. But you don't want to do this. I know what it's like to be dumped. I've been there. Just recently. Come on. We can talk about this. You don't have to be evil because that's the corner he's painted you into. You can... be way better than he thought you could be."

She's not even sure it's Karma, she's only piecing the puzzle together as she moves closer, the winds buffeting her and tearing at her jacket and fishnets, cutting across her skin. "Please. You don't want to do this..." Her voice is calm, steady, even as a piece of stage comes and scrapes across her cheek and she stumbles, but doesn't fall. "Don't make me have to hurt you. Not over that guy who's about as sharp as a loaf of bread."

Jubilation Lee has posed:
Jubilee wretches more at Wade's italian dressing description, "I'm fine..." Wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her check, trying not to look too deeply into the upchuck on the stage, "No, I'm really not.. I need something to wash my mouth out. And maybe a mint."

Her jacket flares out around her, hand on both sides to pull it back and way from her so none of /that stuff/ gets on the favorite garment. "Okay, shadow thingy is getting what for.. everything else, I missed it.."

Enter Zatanna to clear things up.

"Oh that's a big plot twist.." She murmurs when the sorceress suggests the culprit is actually Karma all along, "Kind of Karmic too.. listen to her, Girl! One, That's Zatanna Zatara, unlikely you're gonna out magic her... Second... just go gay.. Seriously-" Motioning around at all this carnage? "-Pebble in the pond if a guy is so bad he turns you queer. TRUST ME.."

Not helpful.

Both hands point towards tenticles, firing bursts of light at them that errupt in brighter explosions, forcing them away from cast members. Away from herself mostly, but cast members too. "Ugh, I'm gonna have to find a new show to watch.. this is bullshit."

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
The waves of dazzling radiance give a clear view of how messed up the seating pit is, and a new coat of paint needed just about everywhere. Limelight catches motes flying in the air. Oily, smoke-ragged appendages assaulting the lead star of N20 cannot withstand the pressure as they lose their substance in Alison's light-focused attacks. Eventually Swift -- aka, Aiden Stewart, hero of the smart kid set -- is left bloodied and in a pretty shabby state. Definitely not the kind of lucky, cool ordinary guy. Raine isn't even visible underneath a pile of debris like a tsunami just rushed through the theatre.

Zatanna has to move pretty quickly to catch up with the retreating Vantablack obscurity before it zips through the open doors. Once up close, coaxing it with soft words, does its true shape emerge from the smothering mass of magic. A tiny maw opens. Mrrrwr! A very opinionated, wheezy meow comes out. Weird dancing winds puff and whuffle around it. Of course, if anyone actually interprets feline, that meow actually means something.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
The little black ball of fury she thought was Karma... something else comes to her mind, the exchange of magic, and Zatanna freezes in place. And realization settles in. She's got it all wrong.

"Alison. Laser pointer!" She points to the table. "Right there!" she calls out to the mutant.

She's moving her hands quickly, grabbing some discarded and broken items. It explains the three slash marks on parts of her body.

"Nommus hsif! Nommus maerc! Mlac eht tac! Ekam em railimaf!"

A large, fresh fish and a bowl of cream milk appear in front of Zatanna, as she waits on Alison's laster pointer.

Alison Blaire has posed:
It's an ugly, ugly situation. The room'll never be the same. Will a fresh coat of paint save the day?! Tune in...

Something, something. Alison's attention is caught by Zatanna's call, and she glances in the direction of the table before she changes tactics. The light show ebbs, and then she flings out a hand, fingers pointing towards the table before she focuses the light into one tight beam, "This better work!"

Wade Wilson has posed:
Deadpool peels off the corset slowly, "Ay, caramba. I think double healing is bad for me. I feel like I've eaten an entire wheel of cheese. Which I have done on only twelve occasions. The subway toilets have never been the same since...they blamed Rudy, but it was me all along..."

And, once free, he teleports away. Probably to Dr. Phil.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
<<Of all the bloody choices they had to make, fixing anything on you. Stupid! I thought the man in the red bodysock was bad enough.>>

Mew mew mew. It isn't Karma, this cat. It is clearly someone if it can form intelligent sentences. The cat turns bleary little blue eyes on Jubilee, and the fur starts to stand on edge up the puffball's back. Classic arch, Vantablack tail twitching darker than any natural shadow, swaying violently back and forth. <<She is too good for that /wretch/.>> Yes, the cat is chattering at her. Still ferocious in all its adorable furry kittenish size, claws and all for that side-skittery arch. Until the cream shows up. It has to skitter around a dish, and then this is patently ridiculous. Even it knows this. Nose twitching, it looks sharply over to the light beam flickering all over. Oooh, what's tha---

<<Are you distracting me? I'm not a c-->> Oooh! Pounce.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Talking cats. That isn't exactly a new one. But it's been long enough that there's a lift of Zatanna's brows. She tries to follow the cat's gaze, but Jubilee has left, and she frowns, biting on her lip. Maybe they went to assist with the evacuation of the others. The mage finds herself alone with the vantablack. "No distractions here. An offering. To soothe your anger." she comments as the kitty pounces the red dot and Zatanna moves it subtly.

Stooping down to one knee, Zatanna keeps her hand out, in a non-threatening posture. "I agree. She's amazing. Do you know where she is? Are you hers? Or is she yours?" she asks curiously, knowing what the rules can be sometimes -- after all, sometimes the familiar owns the human. "Do you have a name?"

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
The cat doesn't sit but it prowls in circles around the dishes. They offer a particularly interesting escape for the creature, after all. No drinking and no chasing after Alison's laser pointer after the first two or three pounces, anyway. Its blue-eyed gaze is fixed on Zatanna as it flicks its tail. No one that fell unconscious among the cast has returned to consciousness, despite the end of that hissing mew of protest. <<You call me Miss Chief and I will...>> Don't fight with magic, right. <<Be mad. I live with her. She treats me well and that... sack of garbage there... is cheating on her.>>

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Zatanna really doesn't have time for this. And she sits flat on her bottom. "Just because he's an ass was no excuse for you to attack everyone else." she points out as she looks at the cat and frowns. "You need to make this right." she says quietly, but firmly. "These people did not cheat on her. And the one that did will probably lose this show and all his popularity for it."

The young woman rests her hands on her knee, and decides to just press the issue, a subtle glow of her sapphire eyes.

"Kaeps ruoy eurt eman." she demands of the creature.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
<<I didn't /try/ to do this. Just make him stop hurting her with that slattern. It went out of control and I do not know how. He certainly deserved a good kick in the pants.>> The cat flicks its tail and protests the dish, nudging it with its paw. Until the spell hits, and the force hits the skewed luck around the thing, and it hisses. To no avail. Zatanna might feel it resist, and oh, the cat tries. But what comes out of its mouth is telling: <<Nasir ibn Muhammad ibn al-Din Tusi.>>

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"A proper Persian magus knows that magic used in revenge hurts others more than it hurts the intended." Zatanna chides, now that she has a name. "As the Zoroastrains said, for one to urinate in the sea, it kills thousands of fish." Her voice is steady. She's not angry. Not yet at least. She may be when she looks at the scratches on her skin later and the ruined fishnets.

"Wouldn't you rather be the gorba-ye palangi and not the jenn to Karma?" she asks with a tilt of her head as she peers at the cat more curiously. "Is she safe?" she finally decides to ask.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
<<A proper Persian magus has thumbs, Miss Zatara. You may see the limits imposed ever since this unfortunate pass. I would like my thumbs better than playing gorba-ye palangi or soothsaying bird or dark smile of Angra Mainyu. This is not the proper /way/ of things.>> Maybe the cat is relieved. Nasrin can, in fact, talk, though he sounds like he's meowing insistently for a can of tuna fish to any random bystander unless they listen closely. But he doesn't lick his paw or flick his whiskers, so the mannerisms are rather telling. <<Karma is not responsible and I accept this as my due. I wanted to protect her from the cruelty they inflicted so needlessly. She who makes their success with her pen and look at how they treat it. Scorning her to take to their beds with dishonesty all around. I will not say I am sorry for being disgruntled at this wickedness on a good person. But how it came to break free this way is beyond me. It was a moment of weakness to them. And then... the darkness just became. I have no power over shadows. I never have. It was only in the natural world and the irony of how I am form-locked now.>>

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Zatanna rubs her temples and closes her eyes as she presses her fingers to the bridge of her nose. "So you're a mage trapped in a cat form." She sighs. "Are you sure this isn't an episode of Sabrina the Teenage Witch?" she asks herself mainly in amusement, before she finally blows out her breath. "You are forgiven, but you will still need to make this right." she explains. "Not just for you. But for the others you hurt. Please awaken them - and repair these damages, and then we can see about returning you to Karma."

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
The cat -- Miss Chief to them, Nasrin to Zatanna -- shakes his head again. <<Respectfully, Miss Zatara. You fail to understand. I cannot work magic in this form. Whatever has been done is not something I can feel or touch. My greatest shame...>> Here he hisses again. His tail flicks. The small blue eyes widen with pupils dilated fast, and every element of his catlike body vibrates with hopeless anger. <<To see and never touch! A shame upon us. There is nothing I can unlock. The indignity of this form is great and you are the first true mage in all that time who has come. If I can be put back to rights I can and will help. Karma would insist. But I am a -cat- in body and strength.>> A kitten, actually.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"Then I will fix this." Zatanna sighs, and looks at the kitten. "But you and I? We're going to have words. Are you bound to the human?" she asks her plaintively. "Because, to be frank, it is far too dangerous to let you roam the streets. "I can take you to my home until we figure out how to return you. But if you are bound to her, I'd rather not seperate the pair."

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
<<Well. Yes. I live with her and she put a collar on me.>> An absent collar. One that probably was too big because the kitten is a kitten, SMOL and ANGRY. It trots up to Zatanna and sits there politely. <<She is staying at her sister's. It is embarrassing to her, all this mischief on the news.>>

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"Then go home to her. I will deal with this, and work on your problem as well." Then Zatanna turns serious, sapphire eyes narrowing on the smol kitten. "...if I see you doing this again, however -- you will /wish/ you were a kitten. Do you understand?"