7179/1000 Faces: Eurovision - Anno Mortis

1000 Faces: Eurovision - Anno Mortis
Date of Scene:	01 August 2021
Location:	Prague, Czech Republic
Synopsis:	Eurovision ends in a battle royale! Featuring appearances by Living Dead Girl, The Thundercats, Trenchcoat Brigade, and the Spook Sisters!
Cast of Characters:	Jane Foster, Frank Noble, Thea Queen, Hope Svelgate, Friday, John Constantine, Tetsuya Wakao, Thor
Tinyplot:	1000 Faces of Death

---

Jane Foster has posed:
Appropriately, it's raining hard over O2 Arena. It must feel like half of Prague tried to jam itself inside after the coveted tickets to the Eurovision finale long sold out. Standing room-only crowds press up against the nosebleed sections, the party people dancing in the aisles among VIPs and their cadres -- B-rate rock stars, a flotilla of Polish models partying with a famous Scandi death metal outfit. The boxes are filled by media personnel; a high-flying Latverian diplomat and several of his terrified friends make sure the enemy states are personally cowed.

It's the moment everyone has been waiting for. Solstrale is up against the doom-mongers, the Volkhv. Their fans have done just about everything to ensure a win for their favourite side. Social media commentary reaches a fever pitch with the final set for Italy's entry on stage.

The Sunbeams supporting Italy's glam-rock outfit whip around yellow glowsticks smuggled in, eagerly striking the beat for the lights flashing in steep banks behind the lead singer in his flared leather chest-baring jumpsuit. Howling his chorus into the microphone, the frontman might be overshadowed by the bassist and guitarist running across the stage while playing, literally flaming streamers at their backs. Pyrotechnics takes to a higher level than shots of fire blown through a laser-swept grid suggests they're about to break free, escaping their jail tonight to be with you.

You being the whole damn audience. The provocative display bubbles and seethes as the drummer lashes out with all he's got. Thunderous booms match the swaggering percussion backbeat as they roll up to their last minute onstage. That's not part of the show, but the actual thunder outside. The arena roof shudders. People roar their approval, hands clapping.

Jane Foster has posed:
The Volkhv fans throw their black-marked fists into the air. Half the crowd wears the trademark raccoon eyeshadow or temporary tattoos that have become en vogue. Everyone's in their goth phase.

Offstage, twittering stagehands run about, cameramen readying for the next salvo from the Lithuanians who looked rather like they rolled out of a primeval forest to go fight the Teutonic Knights somewhere. Baba Yaga wants her aesthetic back. The group faces inward, muttering to one another. Hyping one another up, like you do.

Frank Noble has posed:
Frank had a business opportunity in Prague, and then stayed for the concert. He kept having this vague sense of importance at being around here that he wasnt used to. After months of preparation, the time was NIGH to unleash on THE FORCES OF EVIL, so why go to a concert? But he trusted his intuition if nothing else and it sounded like fun, so here he was, in the crowd, a grain of sand in the sea of people soaking up the ambiance like a veritable sponge, and if the nautical metaphores didnt make you gag at this point, the veritable sea of destiny yet to come would for sure. As it is, he listened to the audience with interest soaking it up with....soaking...ness. The disquieting feeling that something was not right did not go away however.

Thea Queen has posed:
Turns out it isn't hard for a socialite from Starling, specially bearing the Queen name, to get tickets for what would otherwise be a sold-out venue. A bit trickier to get in with the Red Arrow suit, but being a VIP means security is lax. Or at least lax enough to get it in. And why would Thea Queen be here with her own Red Arrow suit? Having caught notice on the news about these Volkhv she couldn't help but wonder at the similarities of certain doom cultists she had found back in Sweden. So investigation it was..

Unfortunately she hadn't arrived in time to intercept the group before they took the finals, and to the stage but it doesn't mean she wasn't ready for an eventuality, currently skulking through the backstage to see about getting entry to where the Volkhv dressed up before. She imagines it to be emptied but who knows what can be found?!

Of course this would all be easier if Sif or Vintridr answered their phones. "I go and get them phones and then they don't pick up when it matters..., figures.." she grumbles to herself.

Hope Svelgate has posed:
Half a world away, Lady Death stands in her sanctuary. Within the cobweb filled creaking structure, a decaying church long since forgotten the mortals of Hell's Kitchen, she watches events unfold upon a trio of stained glass windows. "What manner of twisted minstels are these?" She wonders aloud. Mere entertainment is not something that typical catches the attention of the Earthbound spirits that dwell within the place.

"Apocalypse! Scynister!" Her voice echoes through the old church as her swords come flying to her moments later and are sheathed one on each hip beneath her flowing black and red cape. What the windows are showing her this time may be strange, but what they show her almost inevitably requires violent intervention from Death. So it goes...

For now though she watches the events unfold, waiting for the reason she is seeing this to appear and the right moment to intervene.

Friday has posed:
"No, I don't actually have a plan," Isabella says to the air. "Let me know if anyone starts transmitting on odd frequencies, okay Player? I'm going to have a look around for myself." She nods, then ducks into a back hallway. She listens for anyone ahead, but is largely simply keeping herself behind the scenes for now.

"I know, it's dead here," she says to her headset. "It's usually in the quiet spots that they're doing the funky stuff that they don't want you to see. I mean, where would you do it?"

Pause. "I didn't really need to know that, Player."

John Constantine has posed:
    Ten minutes ago, back at The Laughing Magician:

    Chas from the backroom, "John! Prague's burning!" Literally, as in on the map John spelled up to warn him when something craptastic hit the fan in Prague after the dream he had.

    "Bollocks," John from his bar stool. He pushes himself to his feet just in time to see Tetsuya coming through the door. A beat, it's clear the dude has something important to say, but... Prague. "Bloody Hell, come if you're coming, mate."

    Once it's decided, it's a matter of a jump from the back room to the House of Mystery and another jump to Prague that lets them out in a bathroom stall in the building, yes, same stall... little cramped but it hides their arrival well enough.

    Good thing the door opened out, not in. Moments later and the two of them are in the thick of it, standing room only, crowd.

    It might be noted that John's wearing earbuds, because ewwww, sodden awful music. He hasn't turned them on yet, but he's sure to soon if nothing exciting happens.

Tetsuya Wakao has posed:
Tetsuya had been going to the Laughing Magician to deliver the coin loot from a certain Aztec Skeleton God's apparent temporary banishment to Constantine to see what he could make of it. And to tell him about some other matters. Now, though? Well, he's been dragged along despite his protests.

At least the bathroom is a good place to change outfits! Especially whenever one can do so instantly thanks to some magic items. Now that's handy.

Now that they're in the thick of it, Tetsuya sighs and holds out an envelope to John, "Just take this thing, don't lose it. Some Aztec death god attacked a park back home. I nailed him in the balls for it. Literally. And then some other guy blew him to banishment. Coin might be a good clue."

Tetsuya, in his Soryu guise, pauses, then looks at John, "Oh, and apparently something's seriously screwed the Underworlds. Plural, yes. Izanami's servants are gibbering messes."

Turning, Tetsuya starts to look for the most likely source of trouble. After all, he just arrived with John freaking Constantine who dragged him into this and he's not even sure what's going on specifically other than some big freaking concert.

Jane Foster has posed:
"Hey, follow me now,
     Listen now, now, now!
     This is not music, this is life,
     And you are all I live for.
     So I'm calling down the heavens,
     Cause I can't take no more!"

A storm of black and gold confetti comes raining down from the ceiling onto the glam-rockers throwing their arms out. Tongues of sparks and fire soar up around the stage, burning any passing dust bunnies.

Wildly flashing lights probably leave half the spectators seeing afterimages. They scream and jump up and down. Yellow glowsticks whip around in circles from the audience, along with the odd Italian flag. Someone's hauled out some decrepit banner featuring a Renaissance-style sun. Solstrale's five members gather together, basking in the roar, sticky with glitter. "This isn't for us," says the bassist in his dramatic coat, the most capable in English. "We dedicate this to you!"

A screen of participants representing the European voters projected like a less benevolent Big Brother nod if they're chill and bounce, clapping far too enthusiastically. Points are already racking up. The hosts, hopelessly outmatched by the sheer noise, make a gesture several times to the backstage engineers. Solstrale is escorted off the stage. A grip rushes to pass the word. The lights drop, plunging O2 Arena into gasping darkness punctuated by raver glowsticks.

Frank Noble has posed:
Grenademan may be insane, and disconnected from reality, but he knows...EVIL...when he sees it and goes into literally the same bathroom stall that John and Tetsuya emerged out of. A ludicrously short time later, GRENADEMAN emerges, with a ludicrous hat (That may or may not appear a bedpan and or shaving basin and or other ludicrous item depending on what your indivudual special self might condiser ludicrous) with a bright green mask, shiny, dare we say tin foil cape and dozens upon dozens of grenades on four or five bandoliers around his shoulders like some kind of demented alien Maiza. It isnt the music style that bothers him, but the clapping against their will, "THIS LOOKS LIKE A JOB..." he bellows at a ridiculous volume that no one hears because of the mystical and insanely loud rock concert, (not that they are likely to want to hear it anyway mind you), "FOR GRENADEMAN!" In the back it is dark but there is some light, flickering and exit sign flickering that invites an exit before beginning a career of superheroic insanity but Frank ignores these signs and crunches over the dead leaves that float around backstage as his flying spagetti colander/bedpan helmet shifts on his head and he sees a cat, about the size of a bob cat go around the corner. Is it a member of...THE FORCES OF EVIL? Perhaps, like many cats it is merely THE FORCES OF INDIFFERENCE, but Grenademan follows it nonetheless for it could be some kind of omen. An Omen....of EVIL.

Thea Queen has posed:
Creep creep creep.

Thea makes her way through the backstage, all the way to Volkhv's room to peek about. The lights going down does help her go unnoticed, she reaching to put on a pair of infrared goggles. Gosh, how she loves her Queen tech! Of course that what she finds within is surprising. Untouched water bottles, all that was brought in by the organization still here. But nothing of what Volhv brought. "Shit."

And what is it with the lights not coming back up? Not that she can go up to the stage ... Or can she? Maybe a smoke arrow or two. She is considering options right when she spots Isabella on her trenchcoat coming nearby. "You don't look like you are part of the crew here.." not that she does either, considering she is dressed in black and read leather, a hood, a mask along with a bow and sword. " ... though you don't seem to be on the side of these cultists either." she nods towards the stage, "They need to be stopped."

Friday has posed:
In Isabella's area, known as backstage, she's checking rooms and talking with her online hacker. She's never really alone. "So, whatcha got for me Player?"

"Tons! There's been all kinds of stuff on the darkweb with the merc and spook channels. We've got posts every few minutes, interest in the Eurovision outcome...which is intensely weird."

Looking in on some people who are working on lighting, Isabella nods thoughtfully. "Okay. I'll bite, why is that weird? This is a huge event."

"Well, the neo-pagan groups don't normally care about this kind of event. Since Lithuania and Italy put in their hands, the chatter on the boards has skyrocketed. And not just that, they've started funneling people and money into the region, hard."

"Maybe they're just fans?" Isabella asks, hearing something up ahead. She sniffs the air, frowning. "Smelling something really funky. People should bathe at these events, seriously."

Player says, "Watch out for anyone with that odd tattoo, Friday. They showed up on all the camera footage I could get, and I can't find anything at all on the internet on it. Nothing that prevalent is going to go without some kind of trace. Could be a way to apply drugs, or.."

"Hang on, Player." She goes quiet, then looks right into Thea Queen's face. She raises an eyebrow, then says, "No, I'm not crew. Neither are you. What do you know? And WHAT IS THAT AWFUL SMELL?"

She can smell the strangest things...

John Constantine has posed:
    John, it might be noted, looks a little like death walking. He's always a little haggard and worn looking, but really... he's a sickly shade of pale these days, prone to breaking out in the sweats for no reason and his hand trembles just a bit when he plucks a Silk Cut from his coat to tuck it between his lips without lighting it, yet.

    He takes the envelope, opens it to look, -but not *look*, he'll do that later-, closes it, mutters a few words under his breath and the thing vanishes, sent home via magical delivery. Aztec God's dying, magic coins, day ends in Y, right? "Found the balls on a skeleton didja? That's talent, innit?" Deadpan that, but something hints at the fact that he's inwardly snorting derisively at Tetsuya's claims.

     "Storm's wrong," he tells his current 'partner'. "Fueled by the battle happenin' here, it's wrong too, not what it looks like. We need to stop either side from winning, any ideas on how to do that?"

    He pulls a small vial of smelly, but thankfully clear, goop from one of those damned trench pockets. He rubs a little under both of his own eyes, then hands the vial over to Tetsuya. If the other man's brave enough, he'll find himself with eyes *open* without the need to think about it or cast anything; it's like someone spun the curtain between here and the astral into thin sheers, tuned eyes to magical energies. "Stuff only lasts half an hour, tops, once applied. Not exactly the safest to apply twice," he explains. Rather makes a person wonder how safe it is to even apply *once* dunnit?

    In his head, he's calculating the amount of 'umph' he'd need to cast some sort of silence spell over the entire place and if he has enough in his depleted, mystically battered and beaten self to pull it off. Big crowd, really loud... maybe, likely not, but he'll sit it on a shelf marked 'maybe later'.

    What do his newly opened eyes see in the darkness?

     He leans in toward someone waving one of those sticks and asks, "You have an extra of those, mate?! I dropped mine!"

Hope Svelgate has posed:
Lady Death is not terribly fond of humanity, something about being burned at the stake as an innocent child and being literally put through Hell in order to escape. This music though, she can't say she hates it, something about rock's loud harsh stylings speak to her on a visceral level. Certainly better than what the minstrels used to play. Nobody tell her about television, the Earthbound spirits of the Sanctuary may never forgive you.

This performance has many elements in common with something else however, something Lady Death is quite familiar with, Cult magic. The annoying bastards have tried to summon the White Witch and Lady Death on more than one occasion since the medieval era.

Pulling herself free of the music's spell she catches fleeting sight of something in the rightmost window. Scratches, claw marks, more befitting a hellbeast than some Earthly creature, a glimpse of something feline, and then it's all dark.

Deciding she has seen enough, Lady Death draws her Chaos-forged blade Apocalypse. If she isn't allowed to massacre humanity, she certainly isn't going to give anyone else the pleasure either. This is definitely not something She would want, as much as She actually wants anything. The sword is pointed towards the rightmost window and a torrent of blue Energy Arcane shoots forth covering the window and rendering its scene into a portal, which Lady Death steps through after this creature.

Tetsuya Wakao has posed:
Tetsuya, or Soryu as he admits to John as going by, is about to consider the goop. "Well, it was more I used a--" despite his mask giving near-perfect night vision which... doesn't help what happens next.

Right out of the bathroom, Soryu's foot slips. No amount of balancing can help him it seems, and he does a massively impressive look of a ninja figure skater on one leg before he ends up in a pile of dried leaves that look to have come from somewhere. And a wall.

Said leaves end up skattering everywhere and falling slowly as the ninja pulls himself from the wall and looks over at John.

Then he looks around to see just what he ended up slipping on. "That's... weird."

Jane Foster has posed:
Onstage... In the darkness, the shuffling movements of dancers still. Another kind picks up, soles scuffing, heels coming down. Light antler rods and wood sticks come together, the jangling dance rather like a skeleton at Day of the Dead. But there any New World comparison ends. Bells clang from a thick branch, peeling ancient notes. Entwining, ululating notes leave human throats, stirring something vestigial and old from pagan days. Lithuanian has that quality atop the skirling drone made by instruments or human throats.

Tension crackles. Restless Solstrale supporters mutter. The Volkhv's fans in the audience keep stamping their feet until it almost drowns out another rumbling, the drumming rain. Backstage is another story. Where the hell is the Volkhv? That keening refrain splits through the shadows, a death call, a war cry, a harbinger to begin.

"What am I supposed to do
If I want to talk about peace and understanding?
But you only understand the language of the sword."

Mist streams through the stage when one shaking, flickery light comes up, adding to the weird yellow glowsticks. A woman onstage, the lone lady in the Volkhv, taps antler rods together. Her voice scales above the rhythmic crash of the drums sustaining an otherworldly beat, the stamping feet of the Volkhv's fans lifting her plea instead of overwhelming it.

"What if I want to make you understand
The path you chose leads to downfall?"

Jane Foster has posed:
In a hallway, patches of frost make it harder to move without falling. Scattered leaves speak to poor sanitation standards and the grounds crew ought to be smacked. It's still dark as sin with a few weak lights really failing to illuminate the cavernous arena's periphery. The throat-singing's vibrations can be heard as far as there, carried through concrete.

There is no cat to speak of except the two-dimensional thing the size of a bobcat that just slunk up the stairs to the nosebleed area a section over. Try finding a shadow inside a shadow, it just isn't -there- to see. It's there to smell, that animal musk soft and causing the vestigial mind to scream, "This is bad." Loudly.

Thor has posed:
Thor, in his mortal guise as...well, Thor...was in the back, watching from the shadows, a strange place for a god who loves the limelight! In this case though, he was trying to maintain a "low profile" and stay "out of the limelight" as his friend, Steve was wont to tell him.

His eyes scan the place, looking at all the people having a good time. Thor has a smile plastered across his face, "The only thing missing is a flagon of mead!" The sound was booming, the experience incredible, and at its anterior was the God of thunder, absorbing the thundrous music and sound and energy!
Now what was going to happen next?

Frank Noble has posed:
Grenademan feels that this is bad too, through the long lost spirit of an ancient festival where dancing and joyous song purged forth evil spirits in the Basque country and now manifest in a very different way. This cat thinks that this is bad. Therefore, it is a member of THE FORCES OF GOOD. It is good that Grenademan does not have to blow it up. Not, prey tell that one can blow up a shadow but the existential question need not be asked, "PRAY TELL FELINE OF FORTITOUS KNOWLEDGE, HOW MIGHT WE STOP THIS FESTIVAL OF EVIL ON THIS NIGHT OF SPONTANEOUS LEAVES AND GLOOM OF THE NETHERWORLD?" Frank is fully prepared to douse the crowd below in epic amounts of glow in the dark paint, but isnt entirely sure if that might not help or harm matters. "I AM GRENADEMAN, ALSO PART OF...THE FORCES OF GOOD."

Tetsuya Wakao has posed:
Soryu considers from where he ended up, then looks to John, "We can kill the power completely, at a guess? And I do sense it, too. Also, mask gives perfect night vision. Not that it seems to help in this."

He seems to consider, "Would a tie work somehow? Or a third party?"

The ninja's careful about his footing now. And he seems to be considering options. With the tug of war that he can sense just like Constantine apparently can, there is a decent amount of concern. Then he spots the... cat.

Eyeing said cat carefully, Soryu pulls out one of the tonfas he has on his person. "Constantine, do I want to know what that is?"

Thea Queen has posed:
That smell. Yes. Thea knows it. She had felt something similar on Sweden. And that much is revealed on her expression when she regards Isabella. "Nothing good.." her tone somber, "If this goes like in Sweden..., expect death and wounded to the hundreds." she pauses to look towards the direction of the stage. A new voice has come up there. No, she wouldn't allow the same thing to happen. So she grips tighter on the handle of her bow, flicking it to open up, prepared to shoot.

"Come on!" Yes, trusting on someone she just met isn't the usual MO, but desperate measures call for desperate actions. So she starts running. "We need to stop the singing, and they must be doing a ritual somewhere.."

All that darkness is helping Thea reach quicker to the stage, evading most security. She knocks an arrow to her bow and aims it at the singer. A nice blunt arrow. Non-lethal of course. But good for instant headaches and loss of consciousness.

Friday has posed:
Isabella moves. She isn't certain about much, but she's watching and listening. And she has one thing that Thea lacks, as they pelt through the hallways past the occasional person, listening to them as they go.

Isabella speaks German.

"They're all confused," she says, as she passes. One person is whispering, they feel cats about. That there are people sneaking. That Solstrale is doing this for points. Italy will win. Someone didn't show up for rehearsal. The singer isn't supposed to be there. The thunder can't be real.

The thunder is real. It's very real, and Isabella slides onto the stage, realizing that she's only just now come to the conclusion that Thea came to by sheer instinct.

"Sing it, sister," she says. "Player, see if you can find out what's keeping the power off. Priority."

John Constantine has posed:
    "Bloody *wankers*," John mutters under his breath, unlit Silk Cut still dangling between his lips. First thing's first, this frost has *got* to go. A simple spell that, to raise the ambient temperatures of the floor? Fire and heat, those are his go to, right? It should clear the whole hallway of frost in 2.2, but it only melts a few feet in either direction, it's not something he notices at first.

    Second order of business is to get out this bloody hallway. The illumination spell he casts in order to aid in that *should* be as simple as the first, but it carries only as far as the first.

    "Bollocks," he mumbles. "My magic's wonky." Thing is, he doesn't know if it's *him* or what's happening, could very well just be him all things considered.

    "Nothin' good, mate, 'c'mon," he replies to Tetsuya before he's - frost be damned - running in the direction that cat's slinking. He might slip and slide a time or two, catching himself on the walls or even going down painfully on his knees once or twice, but John just gets back up again and keeps going. It's just what he does. In his mind, he's running through options. If he can't cast reliably, there's only one left to try once he's made it to his destination. The one he hates most. ...and who even knows if it'll work.

Hope Svelgate has posed:
Sweden? Death? It is almost like Thea is asking her to appear. Stepping into the hallway as if out of thin air is Lady Death, not even bothering with a disguise. 6'4" and powerful, long white hair flows freely down over her demonic raiment. White eyes outlined in black almost seem to glow with their intensity. Not that she really looks terribly out of place among Glam Rockers and Scandinavian Death Metal performers. Still the wicked looking long sword in her hand might be pushing it, maybe.

The White Witch sniffs the air and makes a face, her eyes blazing with what looks like blue fiery energy as she searches about for the shadow creature, sight penetrating into more mystical spectrums. Following her nose may be a good start, but it may also be too slow and now the most accurate means. Focusing her Energy Arcane into a small mote within her hand. "Find the beast." She commands it before turning the small wisp of blue fiery energy loose to seek her quarry. And with that the Hunt is on!

Thor has posed:
Thor can feel it. Strange. Closing his eyes, Thor can feel the peaks and valleys of the music. His eyes open, a quizzical expression on his face. "This is the ancient magic." If anyone was looking his way, they could see that his eyes were glowing, a blue nimbus of electricity surrounding his brows.

That one. A shriek in the crowd. Was she calling to him? His name was in her prayer, and he could feel her...and him! Near the stage! A call to the God of Thunder for strength and courage. As the Volkhv sing, Thor can tell this is not a regular concert put on by mortals. This is a war song! It isn't directed to the God of Thunder, however, but another entity. Close.

Thor scans the area, looking for something...or someone. Was this for good or ill, he was not certain. As it was, he was here. In the back. Watching.

Jane Foster has posed:
In the stands, the very large, very one-dimensional cat flicks an ear to the man shouting about fortuitous knowledge. Narrowed eyes shine the same yellow of those glowsticks for Team Italy, disks that shimmer and narrow. Its tail might swish, but that's hard to see as the cat is surrounded by grumpy Solstrale fans muttering, "Drama? This is depressing. Who's going to vote for it?"

But a feline smile bears teeth. Too many teeth, altogether too many. Grenademan's reply is a low, rasping sound feels like a cellist's bow played backwards against the spine -- horrific and awful. <<Pray.>> Or is that 'prey?' To the All-Speakers, it's the same. A paw swipes. Three or four fans no longer block the view. An arm crashes down onto the swaying Lithuanians.

A torso goes tumbling end over end to smack John in the side.

A decapitated blonde head sails straight into the god of thunder's face, blood streaming from the neck-stump, eyesockets sprouting leaves.

Frank Noble has posed:
Grenademan is not immediately sure what to do. First off all, this cat is CLEARLY not part of the FORCES OF GOOD. How lame is that? But its like...a shadow. Mental note, build flash grenades...he could explode grenade the thing but that was ....a lot of flash for no guaranteed result....but if this was a ritual...hmm...looking out into the crowd, he looked from one end of the stadium to the other and then tosses four grenades in quick succession. Normally they'd have no change of making it to the ends of the bands, but a slick grenade and a paint grenade are tossed at each band forthwith, which if they impact (and Frank is quite accurate) the bands will be covered in glowing phospherecent paint, that might not be bad (I mean who needs to not have paint in their eyes to play right?) but the bands might have issues playing if they are slippery when wet..or slimed....who knows? As it is, he takes a cesium grenade, and having done his best to help the crowd, points his hand and a large explosive cesium grenade ready to throw it at the cat, "HAVE AT THEE FORCES OF EVIL! I SHALL..." And Frank trips at precisely that moment throwing the last grenade right at the cat that doesnt yet get activated and begins bouncing around seemingly at random...harmlesly?

Jane Foster has posed:
     "But you only understand the language of the sword.
     What am I supposed to say
     If I want to bring about peace and prosperity?"

The song's next stanza pours off the lead singer's lips as she keeps clacking those antler sticks. Her bandmates move between the drums and the ensemble of bells on a thick bough, wrapped in mists that eddy and swirl around them. One of the men, a very tall fellow, unleashes his guttural voice to repeat the Lithuanian lyrics in Russian. No wonder they love him so much for the voting bloc! He moves more like a stalking bear, nose wrinkled, coughing, practically spitting the words. Or he might really be coughing.

An arrow swipes through the darkness and strikes the woman from behind. She lurches forward at the force and drops the sticks, grabbing at her chest and goes down in a heap. Her bandmates stutter to a stop. The Volkhv's fans take seconds to respond with gasps or astonished shouts. One woman's shriek is almost a living nail of distraught horror driven into the ear. <<Vitalija!>>

The cats slinking among the stands take that opportunity to simply unleash bloody mayhem, pouncing and uttering those unearthly, awful sounds.

John Constantine has posed:
    "Here kitty, here pussy pussy!" John bellows as he runs. He's waving his arms and making a general spectacle out of himself. "I promise, I taste better!" Hellfire dances on his hands, held ready to be released. "Run you sodden idiots!" That's aimed at the crowds if they haven't already gotten the message.

    Another simple spell falls short, something to raise the volume of his voice. Normally he'd be a foul mouthed British version of Thor after, but now he's... well, maybe Thor's second cousin twice removed? Louder than before, loud enough to be heard over the general din that's surrounding him, but not loud enough to carry to the stage.

    "C'mon, pussy cats! Come play with me! They don't hold any power! C'mom see what real power tastes like! Innit what you want? Power? I'll burn this place down, I swear it! C'mon and stop me!"

    ...and so it goes until he's close enough to release the Hellfire dancing on his hands in relative accuracy, at two of them, if the things don't bowl him over first or flee further away.

Thor has posed:
Grabbng the head that had just unceremoniously...or in this case, ceremoniously hit him in the face, Thor looks at it, and then tosses it to the side. Leaves...looking at the carnage, Thor spots Constantine also in the same situation as he found himself in. This had turned from a concert into an ancient ritual or worship, something Thor hadn't seen in hundreds of years.

Listening to the song, Thor starts to get his suspicions as to what is going on. Then, all heck breaks loose. That was when a "cat" creature atacks near him, leeping towards a young couple in the stands. With the speed of his upbringing, Thor leaps forward, attempts to grab the cat thing by the neck, and throws it into the nearby wall with nearly all of his strength.

Thea Queen has posed:
A little buzz on the back of Thea's mind tells her she should most likely had used lethal measures. Merlyn would. And so would Slade. Give no chances. But Thea gives them still. And so it's a blunt arrow that she uses. The arrow flies true, hitting the woman on the side of the head to throw her into unconsciousness... But soon enough there is another arrow prepared...

Which is when she hears the screamings, and those sounds. Are they late? Maybe.

"All of you!" She tells the band members on stage, "Stop playing and move aside!" she keeps herself sort of on the side still, so as to not be spotted by cameras, and being mostly out of sight of the people out there besides the singers.., and Isabella nearby.

It's enough to spot one of the cats slinging on a side. Shadow creatures.. A glance back to Isabella. "Use fire on those!" she tells her.

Friday has posed:
"Actually.." Isabella says, as she stands there looking at the entire situation as a whole. She looks at Thea, then nods firmly. "I could use backup on this," she says quickly. Then she ducks back down the hall that they came from originally.

Whether Thea continues the good fight or follows her, or someone else does? That's their call. She has her own idea.

Isabella de la Torres pelts down the hallway toward the lighting engineers she saw earlier. The only people she passed who weren't talking. At all. And she's heading for what she thinks might be part of the solution.

Go, team.

Hope Svelgate has posed:
The language of the sword, they're not wrong. It is Lady Death's primary means of communication and one she is preparing to engage in as she moves quickly after the blue wisp of energy acting as her hunting hound.

At one intersection though the wisp seems to come up short, confused. This is never a good sign. Summoning more of her energy arcane in both hands, Lady Death splits the spell to see if more wisps will find more targets and how many there might be. The results are not exactly promising as they seem to race off in all directions. Unable to be in multiple places at once though she directs the original wisp to show her the nearest creature and races after it.

Lady Death bursts out into the stands as carnage explodes across the venue. In her sights is one of the shadow beasts. Seeing it tearing through spectators, flesh being rent from bone, she lunges toward it. Apocalypse glows with the blue fiery power of the Energy Arcane shot through with the orange and red of Chaos energy drawn from the ends of Infinity as she springs up above it and attempts a downward thrust to impale it from above with an impact strong enough to crack the concrete beneath.

Jane Foster has posed:
In the stands, the mayhem escalates almost immediately. People being mowed down by the cats are those in reach of deadly claws and flashing fangs. Escaping through packed aisles and streaming up the stairs creates such bottlenecks that the shadowy monstrosities have practically no difficulty at all taking out whomever they like. Except that one Thor threw across the stadium; it hits the wall with a very odd squelch, almost merging with a concrete pillar. Sparkles descend into a puddle on the ground, smelling heavily of petrichor and the rot found underneath logs and such.

Flashbangs and other explosives going off that aren't part of the pyrotechnic show on stage produces another aspect of terror. Now phosphorescent colours splashed over the audience means they glow wonderfully bright. Wonderful targets? Maybe, but one of the felines hisses in that atonal, spine-trembling way and wheels away to dart through the floor at Constantine. Right. Hope he likes his shoes, because the thing ascends out of a bank of seats to swipe one of them at him, and it's not the only one converging. They work with far too much evidence of tactics to be anything but intelligent and coordinated.

Frank Noble has posed:
Grenademan ponders, fire destroys them you say? Well...then...Frank will look carefully into the crowd, trying to discern the cats when he can see them and tosses....an explosive grenade. The explosion from this thing is tremendous, like fishing with dynamite in a lake tremendous though remarkably anyone hit by it is unharmed, albiet potentially knocked like bowling pins, but supernatural shadowcats affected by fire? Yeah they're not so unharmed.

"BEHOLD YE FIENDISH FELINES, THE WRATH OF...GRENADEMAN!" Grenademan will toss another...and a third.

John Constantine has posed:
    Well, this sucks balls.. and not in the fun way. John's goal's accomplished, he has them converging on *him* and not all running amok amid the hapless idiots in the crowd. But what *now*.

    He barely sidesteps being hit by a bank of seats, a little ungraceful spin that almost has him toppling over.

    He heard a familiar booming voice earlier, he knows he did... or maybe that was just the voices in his head? Who knows at this point. His heart thuds in his chest, adrenaline rushing over him like a flood of boiling water to turn the cold of his fear to mist.

    "THOR!," voice still spell amplified. "HELP!"

    

    He reorients himself enough to lob another ball of Hellfire in the direction of one of them.

    "C'mon you lily livered alley cats! C'mon! I'm right *here*!"

    Stand and fight or flee and lead them away, he's still tossing the options around in his fool head.

Thor has posed:
Rubbing his hands against his tunic, Thor gets a look of distaste on his face. "Foul creatures!" Turning his attention back to what was happening, Thor pulls his hammer from his belt, and uses it to expel lightning into the air...not enough to cause any damage or hurt anyone, but enough to illuminate his target - the downed singer. "You!"

As a creature attacks John once more, Thor pauses, takes a step sideways to assist the man, and with a swipe of his arm containing his hammer, stops the creature in its tracks by sending it several dozen feet back the way it came.

"Are you okay?" Pausing only for a moment to ensure Constantine is good, Thor starts moving in the direction of the downed singer.

Thor yells at the crowd, "Everyone! Begone if you value your lives!" Making himself a target and hopefully taking the attention away from the civilians and heroes like John.

"My friends! They are noxious cat creatures! Do not pull your punches! Protect the mortals with the black eyes and tattoos you see! There!" Calling out to the heroes, Thor points to the "Volkhv" disciples. Then, he moves towards the stage, "We need to stop this ancient War Song permanently! Stop your shrieking!"

Thea Queen has posed:
As the band moves to the lead singer to shield her Thea is just about to step into the stage. Retribution. She knows these people are behind this. But she stops when she hears Isabella's voice talking about backup and having an idea. Hesitation for a second. On one hand there's revenge but on the other .., it can help save people. So she chooses the latter, stepping back from the stage to run after Isabella and towards those lighting engineers...

"They look ..., odd.." Immediate frown. But then there's a shadow cat around. Great... So what does Thea do? Call it's attention..

"Pspspspsps." it works with real cats doesn't it? But she follows it up by immediately shooting a couple of arrows with a little incendiary tip on the edge. And then she steps back to the hallway. "Come and get me stupid cat.."

Which is mostly a diversion to get the cat away from Isabella so she can do her thing with the light board.

Friday has posed:
Isabella slides into the room with the engineers, managing to stay ahead of Thea with effort. Thea is one tough person! She's in a low stance as she looks them over, and her backup arrives, and there's a shadow cat here as well.

It's given up its stealth, and is chasing the engineers around the room. Playing with its food, perhaps. "'Kay," she says, nodding about them looking odd. She's moved further into the room. She tries to get past, then without warning she grins.

"Try that fire you mentioned?" she suggests. Then she jumps, using whatever distraction that Thea can offer in the most insane way possible. She bounces off the shoulders of the first engineer, sliding past slashing claws, and tries to jam her hat onto the cat's head.

Then she's up and looking at the lighting board, hoping she's got time to do something. You know, anything would be nice.

"Having fun?"

She's weird.

Hope Svelgate has posed:
The enchanted blade slices through the shadow beast and digs deeply into the pavement, sending bits of shadow creature in all directions. Effective, but not fast enough, not with so many. Lady Death wrenches her sword Apocalypse free from the concrete and surveys the stands and the bloodbath.

When the flashbangs cause the creatures to his, an idea forms in her mind, one that she utterly hates but there are not many other options at the moment.

Gathering the blue fiery light of the Energy Arcane around her feet the albino Hell Valkyrie launches herself into the air, into a space where save for whatever Darkness might still linger she is easily visible to all the spectators. It isn't a place she wants to be, when you are wanted internationally calling this much attention to yourself and your presence is generally a terrible idea. But it is where she needs to be if she wants to do something about this.

Her sword is held aloft like she is about to call on the Honour of Greyskull as she draws her Energy Arcane out more and more, unshaped luminesence. Even amidst the darkness she begins to glow brightly with blue and light shot through with sparkles. Sparkles?! That's another reason she hates doing this and then suddenly there is one tremendous flash as blinding light just explodes outward from her, blanketing the arena in the pure light of souls mixed Holy Light of the angelic soul unknown to most Lady Death carries within her. Onlookers with mystical senses might actually briefly mistake her for one of Heaven's Host amidst this display.

Jane Foster has posed:
Onstage, the Volkhv gives up on playing almost immediately. They're so focused on their fallen lead singer that they miss the initial appearance of the shadowy cats who turn on members of the audience. Explosions in the air definitely cause them to scramble, trying to pull the unconscious woman away. The very tall man flings his bearskin rug of a cloak over the singer, while the drummer starts scrambling to check her vital signs. Fingers go to her wrist, her jugular, clearly showing she's not dead. Thor's lightning and booming voice cause them all to look up, faces streaked in paint, concern, and fear.

The bassist shouts, "She's hurt! We've got to get to safety!" No one comes. Why would they when they're saving themselves?

Reaper's sword fells one beast in a splattering of autumn leaves and sparkles. She saves the swaying mortals, but Lady Death in any form is scary enough to send her spared victims running. Hellfire consumes shadows and flesh, but not without cost to John. Those iron-shredding claws rip at human flesh as well as divine, even as a burning, shrieking shadow-cat flees. Another hurtles through the floor to try and pull that surprise pop up-and-hamstring move on Thor.

Backstage, Isabella and Thea have their own trouble. Somehow that cat has five humans stumbling around like marionettes while it stalks about. The Queenly Arrow is in a position to use catwalks and boxes if she needs to fire, and she will as the thing swats a heavy sand-filled weight at her, followed by a fire extinguisher going faster than professional baseball or cricket pitchers.

It certainly doesn't expect Cirque de La Torres to show up when the woman bobs and weaves past en route to the lightboard. She faces a complex piece of machinery with fancy knobs, switches, 'preprogrammed 1-5' there. Flipping a few will have some effects, especially with a yellow sticky-note featuring Czech notes for: <<Do not initiate Pyro-3 until tallied votes, Ivan!>> Ivan likes to shoot his pyrotechnics off prematurely, apparently.

Frank Noble has posed:
Backstage, the inactive grenade that Frank let lose previously that had been bouncing around, finally getting PRECISELY the right combination to activate the thing at precisely the right or...depending on your point of view...right moment...

The paint covered cats are perfect targets as Grenademan begins to lob Grenade after Grenade after Grenade. They are lit up like actual targets tossing an explosive grenade that will not hurt the mortals around them (much) but the explosion and heat will certainly FEEL real as they are knocked around but the damage is all too real to the cats he targets, the paint causing them to be the easiest things to hit imaginable. Maybe they should not have been so near the band.

Thea Queen has posed:
This is when that training pays off. Who knew fighting for her life trying to dodge sword cuts from one of the deadliest assassins in the world would come to be of importance so soon? But it does... At least for the sand weight, she rolling on the floor and out of the way. The fire extinguisher? Ehhhh, it flies a lot closer, and right when she is getting back up to her feet so it grazes past her arm. Thankfully that armor protects most of the impact but she still grits her teeth at the pain.

"Remind me to never get a cat!" this to Isabella. " ... or at least do an extensive interview process to the one I consider adopting..."

Yet she has a plan. And so she runs, over a large crate box which undoubtedly carried lights for the show and then going on a chase with the big cat after her, all the way up to the catwalks.

High ground.

And she had come prepared, for she had seen these kind of creatures be vulnerable to it in Sweden. So an explosive, fiery arrow comes out, knocking it on her bow in a flash and jumping in the air, twisting and letting the arrow loose right as the shadow cat is bounding closer and closer. It's timed with the grenade activating nearby. By a fluke? Fate? Hopefully the combination is enough to make the shadow cat have a really nasty time in this realm.

Friday has posed:
One of the engineers swings on Isabella, and meets what appears to be a taser as she looks at the complex machinery, and the very not-complex single thingummie with the stuff and the notes, and she gets this evil grin on her face.

"Sorry, Felix," she says. Then she starts in on hitting all of the things. Did you mean, some of the buttons and switches and knobs, so you don't cause havoc.

I SAID ALL OF THE THINGS.

On the up side, she's being buffed just now with all the luck that's able to be jammed into Grenademan's powers. Sooo....

Havoc onstage? Oh hell yeah. The lights go up and down, blue/red/green flashing all over the place like an epileptic's nightmare, and suddenly flames begin to erupt from every orifice. FIRE FROM THE HEAVENS, FIRE FROM THE EARTH. Explosions send flame across the skies, and sparks spray out of the freaking walls. This is meant to be the gigantic finale, and it's just possible that Isabella is doing some stuff that wasn't even supposed to be used tonight.

Anyone with PTSD is likely about to have a very bad day.

Boom.

John Constantine has posed:
    John's poised to lob another, he even manages to but its success might be debatable. Just as he's ready to release it, the lights come on in a blinding display - no, literally, blinding from the darkness of before to *that*, all that *light* and add Holy to it. It momentarily blinds, it even burns a little - demon blood tainted as he is.

    He's not super ninja dude, not by any stretech but he can *normally* hold his own and get out of the way. But not blinded.

    He catches just enough motion of the one taking a last ditch shot at him to turn enough and skitter back just enough that the blow isn't immediately fatal, he's not cut in two.

    He does, however, take shadow claws to the side, deeply enough to show rib through flesh in spots. Wow, that hurts a little.

    ... it kind of hurts *a lot*.

    Starburts of pain replace the ones born by sudden brilliant light in the darkness. *Bollocks*, fuck me. Bloody wretched alley cat motherfucking sodden pussies..." He staggers toward the nearest wall to put his back to it - holding the wall up, that's all, nothing to see.

    He digs deep, pulls up another ball of flame, letting it dance in his hands, but not throwing it until something gets near enough to be a threat. That's where he'll end up making his last stand in this fight, he's not moving his back from that wall - no way he'd make it through a rear attack at this point.

Thor has posed:
Thor holds his hammer high in the air, the sparks causing a commotion. Yeah, he was an attention magnet. However, his intention was to save lives, and from what he could see, it was working. The song was silenced, and the creatures were turning their attentions away from the civilians.

A yell of anger and pain from Thor's lips causes a pause in the light show, as one of the creatures rends the back of Thor's legs with its talons. Blood drips from its claws for a total of three seconds before the full fury of the God of Thunder and Mjolnir reaches its face, forever sending it into Hel.

"Insignificant creature." Thor mutters under his breath, and returns his attention to the stage. Floating into the air, Thor allows his powers to surround him in a shining moment of electricity, light, and a not so subtle touch of thunder. Combined with Lady Death's "holy light" this fight was probably all but over. Nodding towards her with respect, Thor says, "Thank you Milady! Without you, this would have gone much differently."

Watching as Isabella, John, Thea, and Grenademan do their things, Thor smiles. They were doing the hard work, while he just floated up here, and looked as handsome as always. "Thank you heroes! I have your backs!" He was learning from Steve to let others take the lead and be the one in front. He was not trying to be the centre of attention. Nope. Lesson 2 was next week....

Hope Svelgate has posed:
After the initial burst of Holy Light blankets the arena, the form of 'Angelic' Death continues to hang in the air. It still doesn't seem to be over, just light wasn't enough. But it seems like the Holy Light was just the opener. Against the backdrop of Isabella's hitting every button at once to create the mother of all grand finales, Lady Death begins point her sword down at the shadow cats within the stands and unleashing bolts of fiery blue Energy Arcane infused with those Holy white sparkles at one beast and then another and then another, like a game of cosmic creating an intense laser lightshow from above.

Thor's presence is noted for the first time, reminding her of times in Asgard years ago. "Thor." He gets a nod, which is more acknowledgement than she gives to most and was that the half ghost of a smile? Blink and you missed it. But for now she keeps targeting the shadow cats and keeping an eye on the surroundings. It's only a matter of time until unwanted attention shows up after all.

Jane Foster has posed:
In the arena, the light and the electrical show is anything beyond they've seen. One doesn't invoke the heavens or the wrath of Asgard. When the full pyrotechnics show for a good twenty performers goes off, laser lights and rainbow flames, it positively blurs out some of the show. But they know Thor around here, at least! That might offer some cover for other heroes of the hour who would rather keep their names off international news stations.

Thea's fight is a difficult one since the cat back there has a toughness not shared by its comparatively emaciated kin. Flinging pieces of the stage at her becomes a steady rainfall as it laughs and stalks her, but the feline too is unprepared for her activating her job search criteria bomb. Indeed, the blast goes off and probably throws Isabella off her feet. The cat takes out a catwalk before hitting the wall and vanishing in a swirl of inky brimstone to the relative safety of the astral. It really does smell like cat back there.

The Volkhv's fans have taken the brunt of the attack in the stadium itself. Injuries and deaths are overwhelmingly in their fanbase, though several of the Italian side are rolling around assuming they've been scalded or burnt. Suspiciously none of the Sunbeams got slashed to bits. Trampling and bruising injuries are more common. Suspicious? Believe it.

Fleeing into the pouring rain is deeply unpleasant for the basis of being soaking wet and cold, but Prague's a small city. Emergency services can reach O2 Arena quite quickly, many on standby for the event. Even so, they're overwhelmed by mobs of people running outside to meet the bystanders under umbrellas and tents watching on flickering screens. Shouts and screams grow into a fracas where panic mostly runs thick.

The Volkhv huddle around their fallen singer, and one another, trying to get to the wall.

Where is Solstrale? Nowhere in sight...

John Constantine has posed:
    He'll stand there, back to the wall, lobbing fire at any cat that gets close enough for him to hit, even if it's not coming directly at him. But once it seems they're gone? John slides down the wall to sit on his ass *hard*. He bends one leg up to rest an arm on and lights that Silk that NEVER fell out from between his lips, even with all the yelling and running.

    That's talent right there folks.

    That first drag has demon cursed lungs - oh yeah, that needs tending to but who has the *time*? - to scream a little, but sod all, it burns *so good*. He exhales with a bark of a cough and drops his head back against the wall.

    Is that a 'No Smoking' sign painted on the wall over his head? Maybe he can't read the local language? More likely that he just doesn't give half a fuck.

    He'll finish his cigarette before struggling back to his feet and murmuring the words that let his House know he's ready to come home.

    When the portal opens, he mumbles, "Well, she didn't burn it down at least."

    "Meggan! I'm home!" can be heard just as that portal shuts. ...and he offers up a prayer to whatever Gods would listen to a demon tainted, black souled mage, 'I can't handle smokin' hot tonight, please let it be water, or an otter, I'd even settle for an otter'.

    Solstrale gone missing will have to wait for another day, for now? He has more important things to worry about.

    What was he *thinking* when he gave Meggan that rock?

Frank Noble has posed:
Grenademan walks into a restroom and, with ludicous speed changes back into his perfectly normal civilian guise of Frank Noble, and blurs into the crowd, helping a few find their way to waiting emergency services but otherwise blurring into the rain, gone like shadows and mist.

Thea Queen has posed:
Thea skids across the ground for a small while just as the cat 'splats' against a wall and disappears back to whatever 'hell' that spawned it. "Good riddance..." and she finally sits up, taking a moment to catch her breath and then up to her full height. She jogs back towards the room where Isabella is, looking at the mostly unconscious engineers. "Good job." good thing she didn't see Isabella just smashing on all buttons like a madwoman.

But this isn't fully over. She knows that band had a finger in this. Proving it is another thing though, and she is a vigilante, in a foreign country. Yea..., things wouldn't go well if she stayed.

"It's time to get out of here." She suggests to the other woman before preparing for a quick escape. But maybe she'd have to stalk this band in the city before she returned back home.

Hope Svelgate has posed:
When the last of the shadow beasts seems to and the pyrotechnics peter out leaving the bloodsoaked arena relatively quiet, Lady Death drops the angelic light. It takes a lot of power and is entirely uncomfortable on top of it, nevermind that it completely clashes with her entire aesthetic.

Thor is given another nod. She's not always the most expressive when she doesn't want to kill you. Lady Death then raises her sword again and slashes a glowing rent in space before disappearing through it. The last thing she wants is people trying to connect this to the destruction of that Norwegian village. That would be a headache. Not that most of the headaches couldn't be cleared up if she'd just stick around to answer questions for once, but she hardly has the patience for that. Humans can be so full of themselves.

Once the White Witch has passed through, the portal seals behind her leaving Thor by his lonesome to explain things to whatever authorities arrive on scene.

Friday has posed:
Isabella blows hair out of her face, then notices that she's having very little luck with the process due to being upside-down at the time. She glances about, her ears ringing, and says, "No cats. I can live with that."

She offers Thea her hand, real quick, but overall as she rights herself she seems to think that an exit is also a good plan. "Remind me to introduce you to my team sometime," she suggests.

Which may never happen, but it's good to have someone you can rely on. You know, when it matters, and when you just gotta blow up a bitch.

Or a cat. I'm not picky.