5041/Hello, Dolly

From Heroes Assemble MUSH
Jump to navigation Jump to search
Hello, Dolly
Date of Scene: 05 February 2021
Location: April's Apartment
Synopsis: You're never too old to play with dolls, right?
Cast of Characters: Terry O'Neil, Harley Quinn, Aimee Alexander

Terry O'Neil has posed:
You've gotten a cursed book of spells from a man who uses the stage name of 'Lucifer'. A HIGHLY cursed book that is probably not very safe. And you need to copy a ritual from it? What do you do?

You take it, of course, to your cousin's apartment! Under the circumstances, it is actually the safest place he can take it to, while Terry transcribes the arcane and potentially dangerous ritual that might ensure the return of his Cheshire soul.

Problem: The curse has already started to manifest, en route to April's. At first, it started off as a dull pain, then as an itch, then an ache... and then...

Terry opens the door to the apartment with his own key. He is in a hurry, because there are, currently, excruciatingly /painful/ traces coursing through his upper body, and he needs to check out what the hell, hehe, is actually happening.

The apartment seems deserted, so good for that! He tosses Lucifer's black book on one of the coffee tables and makes a run for the bathroom. This is not one of those 'April made her special tacos again' runs to the bathroom, but something much more serious. If such a thing were possible.

Harley Quinn has posed:
Cue the door to Harley's room opening. And she is dressed you pervs! And so is Aimee. She invited her here earlier for a marathon on the old Star Wars movies. Because first, she had no idea if Aimee had seen them before or not! And if she hadn't it was a criminal thing! If she had it would still be fun.

"I am tellin' ya, those ewoks were mastah crafters with their speahs that pierced stormtroopa armor." always a big mystery of the trilogies. She is whistling the star wars tunes while she makes her way through the house, no shoes of course, just about to go to the kitchen to fetch a ...., hold on what's that?

"Do ya see what I am seein', Aims?" baby blue eyes going to the book on the table and she oggling at it, "Wonder if April arrived while we weah havin' fun but, mmmm. She usually comes knockin'.."

She makes her way to it, looking at the cover, then around. "Gosh, it looks mighty nice. I wondah if this is her goth phase. It could be, don't think she went through one yet. Rule of thumb, we have to get a goth phase durin' a period o' oouh lives." a look back at the young woman.

"Say, have you had yoh goth phase yet?"

Aimee Alexander has posed:
"Those things ruin the movie. It's meant to be Star Wars, not Koala's with Spears." Despite the unimpressed tone of voice, Aimee's lips are quirked up into a small grin. She stumbles into Harley's back when the clownette abruptly stops to gesture at the book, and the teen peers over the other woman's shoulder in curiousity.

"It's... a book?" She doesn't really see the significance of it, or why it's such a curiosity. "Maybe it's like a supernatural romance novel or something? Would... April be in to that kind of thing?"

Following Harley closer to get a better look at the book, Aimee chews her lip thoughtfully. "Or... maybe she's a fan of Charmed? I knew a girl at High School who wrote down all the spells from the show in a notebook as if they were real."

Her gaze turning back to Harley, she shrugs a single shoulder. "I was never into all that goth stuff so I've got no idea what it is. I mean, can you imagine *me* wearing all black with how pale my skin is? I'd look like a vampire!" Distractedly, she reaches down to the book to turn the page and see what else might be written in it.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Shit..." Terry says to himself quietly in the bathroom, unaware of the new arrivals. He has removed his shirt, and he can clearly see traces of red across his pale skin- as if someone had been clawing at it with very blunt claws. They also /hurt/.

"I need to copy that ritual /stat/," he hisses. And just as he speaks, and right before his eyes, he sees another trace being made onto his skin. This one hurts a lot more, and blood actually starts to come out!

Wincing, he reaches for the bandages in the first-aid cabinet... because of COURSE April has those. Goodness knows how many injured turtles he's had to bandage. He can't bleed all over April's apartment, now, can he?

The book is... weird, to say the least. There are illustrations that are somewhat disturbing, lettering that is hard to read, and every ounce of it screams 'grimoire.' The page that Aimee has opened is titled 'Poppet's Delight' and it features an illustration of a doll, grinning. Underneath it, there is some sort of incantation 'to be reade by candle lighte'.

Harley Quinn has posed:
"Aims..." Harley says in a solemn manner, "Aftah the adventure out in the Wildways with Spiral, all DUE to Doc Strange's magic we can't just dismiss it like that! Actually, maybe that's it, I told her about the adventure soooo, maybe she went and got herself her own magic book!" hand coming up to her chin and she holding it thoughtfully. "Not suwah about a good name..., the yellow witch? Mmmm, too close to scarlet witch.. Nah, think I prefer the otha theory, a steamy supernatural romance novel. And really, who can blame her! Have ya taken a look at that Dean?" she waggling her eyebrows before joining her hands together. "And then yoh get Sam, and theah's this sandwich...." *coughs*


"I suuuure can see ya wearin' all black. A little lace too, some leather. Nothin' wrong with it.." she looks down at the book when Aimee opens it up and her attention strays to it, curious...

"Ooookay, she really went all out into the weird with this one.. I am sensin' some real voodoo. And aww look, that doll looks so cute.."

She places a finger on the page, "Why don't we go and try to recite it, will be fun!"

She doesn't wait for Aimee to say yes or no, instead wandering over to dim the lights and fetch a candle from the kitchen. Because of course she has those. And poof, now it's on.

All ready for Aimee to reeeeaaaad.

Aimee Alexander has posed:
"I never saw Spiral with a big ugly book in her hands..." Not being nearly as well-informed on mystical and magical things, Aimee is still understandably a little skeptical. Though she's certainly a touch more cautious now than she was a few moments ago, just in case.

Having grown somewhat used to the clownette's rambling tangents, she just absently nods her head to the talk about some guys named Dean and Sam and a sandwich; most of her attention still focused on the book. The talk of lace and leather gets a muttered 'pervert...' from the teen, but it's not until Harley mentions how cute the doll looks that Aimee starts paying more attention to what the other woman is saying.

"Harley..." There's a warning in her tone, like one might warn their dog when it's looking very intently at the couch.

Of course the clownette marches to the beat of her own drum, and is already starting to set the mood for magic. "Harls, no. Harley. C'mon this... we don't even know what this does. What if it kills you? What if it kills *me*? Weren't you the one saying we shouldn't just dismiss this?"

But the empath knows Harley well enough to suspect her protests are probably in vain. And so, reluctantly, she squints at the barely intelligable writing and does her best to begin reading it aloud...

Harley Quinn has posed:
"Come on, the thing is called ..., poppet's delight." Harley exclaims almost as if it was all very obvious. "DELIGHT!" see? There are keywords. "And it says read..., look heah.." and she places a pale fingertip on the book. ".... reade by candle light.. Oooh, fancy. But also a trick ta set the mood." she explains. "This is basically a book ta do some sexy roleplayin'. Oh, April is gettin' naughty.." a wicked little smile on her lips. And with that explained, and all protests smothered, she goes to fetch a couple of chairs, "Now lets sit and do this.."

"Do it me ..., here.." and she smiles, "... I will start with the first part, then go you go on the second."

And so she does! She starts reading it through. "Oooo, there's latin parts heah... Uff, noone likes latin." this said as she continues on reading, "Oooh..., pupa surgere..." she speaking up one part, "That's wake up the doll.. Interesting."

"Some parts heah to sacrifice goats and ewww, we can skip those and .., I can't really read this part too. ANYWAYYY...., go on."

Harley smiles tucking in closer against Aimee while she gets ready for the girl to read, arm wrapping around the girl's waist.

Aimee Alexander has posed:
Aimee is not nearly as enthusiastic about it all, and as Harley starts reading the teen visibly shudders; inexplicably getting goosebumps all over. "I don't like this..." The words are muttered, not in any real attempt to convince Harley of anything but more just to have her protest 'on the record'.

Mentions of a goat sacrifice cause the girl to wince, and she can only hope that skipping said parts will ensure that if this turns out to be a *real* ritual it'll fail. Feeling the arm slip around her waist, she immediately leans against the clownette; trying to gather as much reassurance as she can from the contact. Though it apparently isn't much, her voice containing a slight quaver as she begins reading her part.

"V-Vita. Vita. Vita." She stammers. She doesn't really know latin, but who doesn't know what vita means? Uncaring of the ongoing ritual she throws a nervous glance to Harley and mutters "Harls, this... this is starting to sound like the premise for a Chucky reboot."

Harley Quinn has posed:
Harley joins the choir of 'Vita, vita, VITA!' as they go through the incantation, making it sound even the more scarier and creepier.. And was that a thunder outside? A little rain? Nah, just the imagination. Right now it's all about going through with it! Harley is loving it though, manic little light in her eyes.

"This is so much fun!" The clownette exclaims, "Been a while since I had rusted off my latin. I always loved it. Like tendin' ta a near dead thing, makin' sure it doesn't die. Only thing we can do is rememberin' sometimes." Another tangent! But this one seems to be said with a different tone, almost as if she was hurting inside for a moment. But then it passes, she continuing with a cheery tone, "Chucky?! Last movie I saw o' that guy he had a bride." a wink, "No luck heah foh him.."

"Anyway, ya missed this last part heah.." and she puts a finger on top of it. "Hrm, it's a bit smudged.." she squints and nears her eyes closer to it.

"So it's uh..., Sacrum mors...," she frowns at the last word, she not being able to discern it fully. "Sacrum mors..., lu--...." she then lets out a cough, the rest unreadable. "Theah! I said the words!"

And because no ritual of the dead can be done without a reference to army of darkness.

Aimee Alexander has posed:
Aimee completely misses the Army of Darkness reference, that's from well before her time. Though even if it wasn't she's busy staring suspiciously at the book, waiting for it to... do something. Explode? Burst into flames?

"How are we supposed to know if it worked? I mean, we don't even know if it's real, right? But even if it *was*, we didn't sacrifice any goats. Or say all the words even." Saying those last two facts out loud relaxes her; the teen nestling more comfily against Harley's side and allowing herself a heavy exhale. Calming, she even allows herself a slight smile, elbowing her girlfriend as she declares "You know, if this had been real and we'd caused something fucky to happen, I would be *so* upset with you right now..."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
All this time, Terry has been bandaging himself up. Because marks keep popping up all over him, he has to add more and more. The end result is that much of his upper body ends up wrapped in bandages. Ninety percent bandages, ten percent skin showing at this point. "This is ridiculous," he mutters, and turns around to head back to the living room.

He is in such a state of agitation that he's forgotten the shirt on the floor, and as he trips and tries to catch his footing, he dislodges one of the white towels hanging from a hook on the door frame, resulting on it falling over his head like a shroud. He manages to get his balance for a second and takes a sep back, but ends up stepping on the shirt again and he slips. To over-compensate, he tilts forward and essentially punts the door to the living room open with a cry of surprise.

Aimee and Harley will see some sort of apparition erupting from the bathroom, trailing bandages behind like a mummy and its head covered in a shroud, while its arms are cast forward as it moves through the room in a pitched, unbalanced run, with a shout:


Harley Quinn has posed:
"No, I totally said the words. They were said." Harley retorts with a couple of nods. Never misspell a ritual incantation. Who knows what will happen!? No goat sacrifices is a bummer... She lets out a sigh. Maybe this is all a ---

The apparition has her literally *jump* on her seat, rotating her head almost like in the exorcist.. But at least her body twirls right after. What the heck! She stares at this mummified being... Oggles even!

"Aimee, get the bats!" best solution for everything. Fetch a bat. Whack it to death ... Oh excuse me, whack it to UNCONSCIOUSNESS. Because she is trying to be nice now. And oh she intends to be reaaaaal nice to this ressurrected doll.

She gets up to her feet quickly, "Have I told ya I hate ghosts, Aims?!" then why was she reading out of a freakin' grimoire?!

Aimee Alexander has posed:
Aimee is... less graceful when the spooky mummy zombie thing makes its appearance. Her scream is followed by a clatter as she trips and knocks over her chair in the process. Scooting backwards on her butt she stares with panic at the monster, before finally processing Harley's order.

"Bats?? I..." She seems confused, if still terrified, before abruptly throwing the clownette a disbelieving look. "How the hell am I supposed to get Batman?! This isn't Gotham, Harls!" So maybe she misinterpreted things a little...

Making a cross with her fingers, the teen does the only thing she can think of and starts chanting. "Begone demon! The power of Christ compells you! THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELLS YOU!"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry finally stumbles his way onto a table, hitting his midsection and doubling over it with an 'oof'. There's screaming and someone is chanting, and everything is rather confusing. After a moment or two of wrestling with his bandages, he pulls the shroud off his head and stares up.

Aimee definitely looks familiar. It takes him a few seconds to place the face with the memory- the New Year's charity event. But why is she exorcizing him?

"Man, I'm having flashbacks to the time I got sent to detention for singing ABBA in the middle of Sister Julia Child of God's choir hour."

Rubbing his stomach, he slowly straightens up and looks from Harley to Aimee... and then to the book.

The book, which is by a lit candle. Open.

The redhead's eyes widen.

"Harley, did you-"


It was a loud, loud thump. And it came from below them.

From the antique store.

Harley Quinn has posed:
"The bats ..., I mean..." Harley just goes frustrated. Ghost approaching! But fine, here it goes... She will just have to tackle it! But then there's .., familiar ginger hair? Eyes she could recognize anywhere? "Terry?!" she looks surprised, "What awhe ya doin' heah..?" she looks at the book then back to Terry. "Thought the book was April's and ..."

That sound from downstairs.

"I said the words!" Harley then exclaims. Because you say the words to banish the bad undead right?!

"I am gonna hope that's April makin' her way up to the apartment, but if it isn't..." She makes her way over to her room, coming out with a couple of bats. One she hands off to Aimee. "Theah..."

Terry O'Neil has posed:

That sounded much closer. And there was a strange, strange sound, like the pitter-patter of tiny feet.

Tiny feet that weren't made of flesh.

Surely that's just the old heating system kicking in, right?

Aimee Alexander has posed:
"Wait, you're friends with a mummy?" Aimee ever so slowly starts to relax. Danger is over! It was all a big misunderstanding and there are no demons after all...


For just a moment the poor girl looks like she might cry, eyes shining and lips curling downwards. Then as quickly as the expression came it disappears, her face smooths out to something far colder and more unfeeling. A far less natural looking expression. Pushing herself to her feet the teen takes a moment to examine the monster now identified as 'Terry' before turning her attention back to Harley.

"Harls, I... you... we are talking later." Her voice is eerily calm as she takes the offered bat and mimes a practice swing. Eyes narrow, and her gazes affixes itself to the door. "And you're buying me something nice."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Which... words did you say?" Terry asks, feeling as if he knows he is going to dread the answer. The WHOMP sounds a third time, and now the redhead is positively unnerved. "Wait, do I get a bat? Bat, here, please!" he waves a hand. Does Harl keep extra bats?

The skittering sound is now coming from the walls, and Terry glances around. "It's probably just the heating, right? Totally just the heating."

He walks over to one of the heating vents by the wall, and puts an ear close to it.

Then he relaxes visibly. "It's coming from the vents. The furnace probably just had one of its upsets..." he says, as the sound stops. The room does feel a lot warmer, and Terry gives them a relieved smile. "See? Nothing to-"

And that's when the vent cover flies off and several tiny little arms reach out to grab the redhead's hair, pulling him back against the wall. "AAH!"

Likewise from the heat vents on the floor, and the walls, more covers burst, and the room suddenly starts getting swarmed by little freakish, antique dolls. Some of them are wielding antique weapons and cutting implements found in April's stores. Others, just their hands.

But none of them look friendly.

Harley Quinn has posed:
"The RIGHT words." Obviously! Some people, geeeez. Just because Harley coughed a little near the end.. But before Terry starts pressing her with questions she just goes and gets an extra one. Of course she keeps extra bats. They are breaking all the time! And besides, there was this great promotion for 9.99 at S-mart. Get 3 and only pay 2. Because she shops smart! But so, now that everyone has been weaponized it's time to go!

She squints her eyes at the skittering sounds on the walls, then around.. Uh.., "Why the heck do ya have a necronomicon just lyin' around damn it?!" she says to Terry. Obviously all his fault...

The change in demeanor from Aimee has Harley give her a look, "Thought we had decided you weren't gonna do that.." she says of that clear use of powers. But eh, maybe it fits in the EXCEPTIONS!

Yet no more time to argue, dolls are popping out of the vents! This is like Chucky times 200!

Taking in a breath Harley then squares her shoulders. "Alright, bitches." she jumps in and starts whacking, dolls going everywhere!

It's like a dollicide over here!

Aimee Alexander has posed:
"Unless you want me curled up in a corner crying, I'm doing it. Maybe don't put me in life threatening situations if you'd rather I didn't." Somehow, despite the lack of emotion in her voice Aimee still manages to sound sassy. Regardless who Harley blames for this whole mess, it's quite clear that the empath is holding the clownette entirely responsible.

When the fighting starts she plays things far more defensively. Backing herself into a corner and making wild, unco-ordinated swings at any of the little beasties that get close. Shards of porcelaine spray across the room as a particularly expensive and rather unlucky demon doll gets smacked out of the air mid-jump. But despite how badass that might have looked the teen is struggling a bit.

Back to the wall she has nowhere to run, and after that first successful hit the rest of the dolls advancing on her are playing it far more cautious. Her foot lashes out to kick one away as it tries to rush in between swing of her bat, and while the doll goes flying halfway across the room the steak knife it held manages a shallow cut across her shin after managing to stab through the denim of her jeans. Apparently they're strong little bastards.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry frees himself from the grasping arms of terror by smashing the bat behind him, shattering some of the arms. That just means, however, that there are now dolls with shattered porcelain arms, ready to stabbity-stab with their stumpity-stumps. "Holy crap, that's Mrs. Doolittle!" Terry shouts, backing away from the vent. Mrs. Doolittle was April's favorite doll, until one visit over he accidentally damaged her eye-closing mechanism so the eyes would never close, even when you laid her down. April stopped playing with her shortly after that because it had made Mrs. Doolittle look like a morphine addict.

She was now lunging for the teen, seemingly bent on revenge! "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he cries out, swinging the bat to strike at her head. One shattering of porcelain later, her eye problem is solved forever.

And yet, still more dolls come out. A knife manages to slash right across his shoulder, in between /two/ of the previous slash marks that the banadges are covering, and he roars, sending the doll responsible careening against a wall, to smash into smithereens. One athletic backflip has him landing on the table which, fortunately, it's sturdy enough. "Over here! Take the high ground with me!" Can the table support three people? Well, we're about to find out!

Harley Quinn has posed:
Ooo, sassy. Harley sort of approves. Or would if they weren't being attacked from every side. But Harley was born in the chaos. These dolls merely adopted it! And besides, she is one heck of a fighter when she has her bat in hand and room to maneuver. So she flips.., flops, away from lil hands with lil cutting implements, swinging out with glee. "She looks nothin' like Julie Andrews..!" swing swing swing.. She cartwheels away from the pursuing lil things until she notes that they are going for Aimee...

Not on her watch!

She jumps in, catching the doll that Aimee has tossed through the air. The one that hurt her. She holds it up by the neck, lil arms still trying to strangle Harley. She just eyes it dead on.

"Wrong move."

Dropping it to the floor she squishes it under her foot. Definitively. This one isn't coming better no more!

"Come on, Aims..!" She reaches her, extending one hand to help her up and bring her with her to the table. High ground! It worked for Obi-Wan.

"Check the book, Terry! Maybe it has a passage to undo this!"

Aimee Alexander has posed:
Aimee grabs the extended hand and with a jump stumbles out of her little corner spot and against Harley. Swinging the bat behind herself at ground level she takes out another doll, though more by chance than intent.

Using a chair as a step, she clambers up onto the table after Harley and gets ready to smack any jumping dolls.

"Duck!" Her flinch saves her from the thrown knife that skims past her cheek. "I hope one of you knows how to fix this because if I die I'm haunting you!"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"THE BOOK!" of course. "Harl, you're a genius!" who started all this, but who is looking at details now? The redhead vaults over and grabs the book, making his way back to the table as a few more cuts are made at him. At this point, he's stopped counting. "Quick! Cover me while I look!" he says, scampering up n the table and kneeling, while he frantically searches through page after page for something. These books don't have indexes. Of course they don't.

Harley Quinn has posed:
Harley ducks when Aimee calls for it, which turns into an headbutt into an arriving dollie. Take that! Bone vs porcelain? Bone wins! Easy. It's not as if she is free of little cuts and nicks on pale skin, some of the quicker ones going past her defense... It just makes her get more furious... And now that Terry is busy the book?

Harley Quinn dual-wielding baseball bats! That's right, she got the proficiency.

So it's a whirlwind of destruction that happens on that table. Almost as painful as when Anakin tried to claim high ground...

"How many dolls awhe theah!! Betta be fast or we are toast!" she warns Terry.

"Just stay your ground, Aims! We got this!"

Aimee Alexander has posed:
"Stand my ground??" Aimee's emotionless expression falters for a second, scrunching up into something unpleasant before abruptly closing off again. Expression grim, she waves her bat around as best she can, knocking a head off here or shattering a tiny arm there.

She's not nearly as accomplished in the arts of bludgeoning as Harley though, nor is she quite as well muscled. And, as she starts to wear down, more little cuts and slashes slip through her defenses; her chiffon top not really providing any protection at all.

Her jeans at least give her legs enough protection to keep her on her feet, but with exhaustion already setting in she's starting to stumble a little in her movements. Ballet, it turns out, is a fair bit easier than fighting a horde of demon dolls.

"Please tell me this is almost over!"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"I found it! I found it!" Terry cries out, a finger jabbing the page and nailing the line for the Banishment and Protection From Unwanted Entities. That counts, right?

Thank goodness for Catholic school, because Terry starts reading the Latin without too much difficulty: "Regna terrae, cantata Deo, psallite Cernunnos,
Regna terrae, cantata Dea psallite Aradia.
Humiliter majestati gloriae tuae supplicamus ut ab omni infernalium spirituum potestate..."

And here he has to duck to avoid a projectile, "Laqueo, and deceptione nequitia, omnis fallaciae, libera nos, dominates..."

The moment of pain as something hard hits him. Maybe it's a backswing by Harley, or maybe it's a doll that got past their defenses before getting thrown out by Harl or Aimee, who knows? He continues:

"Qui affecto protego, mixtisque iubas serpentibus et posteris meis stirpiqu!"

And for a moment, a terrifying moment, it looks like nothing happens.

And then, to everybody's relief, it's as if the life goes out of the dolls at the same instant. Because, of course, that's exactly what happens. Every one of them drops to the ground, many shattering finally, and the end result is the entire floor of the apartment flooded in either broken dolls, mostly broken dolls, or whole dolls. And weapons. And debris.

Harley Quinn has posed:
At last the dolls stop..., along with a calming silence that befalls the place just after it. Harley takes in a deep breath, sweating and looking around before finally straightening up with a small wince at all the little cuts.. "Well, that was somethin'..." She says quietly, taking a backflip back to the ground before moving to check on Aimee and make sure she isn't too badly hurt. She moves to wrap one arm around the girl.

"I am totally callin' Damage Control and put the tab on the Titans, Terry." a pause, "All your fault for leavin' a dangerous book like that lyin' about!"

None of this is the clownette's fault. None. Zero. Nil!

Aimee Alexander has posed:
Aimee waits for a moment after the abrupt end to the attacks, before she fwumps into a seated position on the edge of the table. Her body shudders as she exhales heavily, and emotion melts back into features.

The teen's eyes narrow at Harley's approach, but she doesn't shy away from the arm being wrapped around her. The clownette's words to Terry draw a scoff from her, and the other woman receives an exhausted glare. "You're a real jerk sometimes, Harls..."

Her head droops, and she takes the opportunity to examine herself for injuries. A wince follows, her top covered in thin cuts and slowly leaking bloodstains. "And this was my favourite shirt!"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
And then, amid all of the things that have happened, and the things that have been said, Terry gets the golden brooch with which to cap everything off.

"Oh my god. What /are/ we going to tell April?"