8564/A Little Trip to Hell to Obtain an Ally

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A Little Trip to Hell to Obtain an Ally
Date of Scene: 06 November 2021
Location: A Level of Hell
Synopsis: Azazel, Lorna, Clarice and Mystique head to a layer of Hell to answer the S.O.S of the little Imp, Ree. After fighting a few denizens, they manage to rescue her and return to the Asteroid for drinks and conversation, while Ree heads to the medbay to recover.
Cast of Characters: Raven Darkholme, Ree, Clarice Ferguson, Azazel, Lorna Dane




Raven Darkholme has posed:
Just another day in the life of mutants around the world. How it was that that the S.O.S. managed to escape the boundaries of Hell remains a mystery, but Azazel had managed to hear it. A calling for assistance from a demon or devil in Hell, how could the devilish Mutant pass up a chance like that? Allies were few and far between since his recent return to this plane, and that is why he would turn to Mystique for aid. He could easily get to Hell, but going alone was never a good idea.

While enjoying a drink with Clarice and Lorna on the asteroid, Azazel had bamfed right in beside the cobalt mutant, as he was prone to do and requested assistance.

And so it was that the devilish red mutant, Azazel, the cobalt strategist, Mystique, the magenta teleporter, Blink, and the green haired magnatist and Queen of Genosha, Lorna stood now in a level of Hell watching demons, devils and imps alike scatter in surprise.

Ree has posed:
The scene is awesome. A mountain rises before you, built from what appears to be brown sludge and flesh. You stand upon a mound of bodies, many of which twitch and move. It's not the best scene ever, and one which Lydia may be glad to have missed in her dreams at night.

A burbling mass grows at one point a few metres or miles above, distance being hard to tell, but the pustule grows until it explodes, sending bits of something sticky all about. It politely avoids hitting Azazel, but others would have to perform avoidance procedures.

---

A group of dark figures above her make her stop cold. She's surrounded by hundreds of her fellow workers, building the Spire to specs. She has half of a corpse held tight, and she normally would be placing it on the mountain, but...those aren't Hellfolk.

She's grabbed, dragged along in the wake, as her Fiend sees that she's not working. He screeches, no words that make sense. Never really need them, she gets the message. She points up at the people who've appeared, and the Fiend turns to look. You'd better not be wasting my time, Imp.

The next screech from the three-headed creature is aimed at the new arrivals, and it alerts others.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Well," Clarice remarks, putting away her cellphone, having just sent out a simple text message of a briefcase emoji before they left the asteroid, "it's not every day I go to hell." And she can't help but wonder how Theo will react to //that// news.
    "I know nothing about this place," she says in a cautious tone, summoning one of her javelins to her hand. "What do I need to know about it? How to find our way to this... individual in nee- ACK!" As the pustule-mountain errupts, Clarice blinks out - appearing high above, and out of reach of the goo, whatever it may be. She immediately starts to fall, of course, but after the worst of the erruption is over, she opens a new portal, which she falls //up// through, allowing her to make a more controlled landing as gravity readjusts its hold on her.
    "...I think someone may have noticed us," she mutters. Surely it wasn't the purple splashes of energy she'd produced. Right? ... right.

Azazel has posed:
    After Mystique agrees to help and the others there with her also express an interest in coming along, Azazel warns them, "This will be a dangerous trip. The various Hells are no joke for those unfamiliar with them. I appreciate the offer of help, but be certain you are ready for this." When they all indicate their interest in helping, he has them join hands with him, then there is a moment of darkness before they appear on a hot, rather disgusting mound of.. bodies? .

    Looking around, he sniffs a touch disdainfully, "Beelzebub's dimension, I'd say. He has no sense of style at all." Nudging an arm aside with one foot, he looks around, "Well, I can certainly understand why someone would be looking to escape from here, at the very least."

    When the alarm screech rings out through the air, his attention turns to the creature emitting it. "Well, it looks like our arrival is being announced." His hands slip under his jacket, then reappear filled with blades that appear to be made of some form of obsidian. "I would suggest being ready for combat, most Hell dimensions have dim view of invaders or groups trying to rescue the inhabitants."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
A quick glance is given to ascertain their location before the mountain of puss explodes. Mystique's idea of avoidance is literally to flip over into the space right beside Azazel, both guns being drawn from their holsters as she goes. Killing demons and devils doesn't count as murder, unless of course it was Azazel. These minions of Hell were another matter entirely.

She had never been to hell before, but one place was much like another to the older mutant. There was always risk, always a fight, always someone wanting to take something away from someone else, or subject them to pain and torture. Although not certain her bullets would effect everything here, they were what she had and she was ready to use them.

"That's some alarm," she comments, eyeing anything coming toward them. "We need to find who sent that S.O.S. and get out of here, so let's not dawdle."

Lorna Dane has posed:
A nice, relaxing day sipping away at a drink was ... well it wasn't bound to happen for long unfortunately. The arrival of Azazel with his request for help is met the same as the other women: With agreement to go along. Given they were in the bar when it happened she manages to scoop up a handful of silverware before they depart which she slips into the pocket of the light jacket she was wearing because of the 'real world' getting a bit chillier than usual lately. Darn the onset of Winter.

Then she arrives, teleported in atop a pile of squishy bodies. For a few moments she stoically stands there taking it all in. "I'm rather glad I've had a few drinks at least," she finally states, "But I'm going to need to see a Chippendale event after this to help get my mind off it. Now then. Up seems to be the source of the alarm, correct?" She questions with a tip of her head in that direction. The purloined silverware floats out to swirl around her hand as a prepatory weapon. "Glad I thought to grab some metal. Never know what hell has."

Ree has posed:
The Fiend with the three heads isn't so far away. You can all see it clearly, though for some reason it takes a moment to realize that light has -got- to be travelling funkily in this place, because the sheer amount of corpses between here and there is impossible.

Something tries to grab at Lorna's leg, but a moment later it squelches free of whatever arm it was attached to and stops moving. The person to which it was trying to grab starts to rise up, and then another. Melted faces and body parts extend toward the intruders, as the Fiend's first wave of offense begins to move.

Not defense. Trust me, they're offensive.

---

Below, the creature turns back to Ree. It curses her, a magical slice that cuts her sharply. She cries out in agony, and turns to try and drag her half a corpse toward its goal. Apparently there is no rest, not even now.

She isn't moving well, but as the poison spines of the Fiend slice into her back, she decides to move faster. Then the thing turns to another Imp, stabbing it through the feet. Why? It didn't appear to have a reason. It just laughs, watching the other Imp try to work without feet.

Ree isn't certain who these people are. But anything different has to be good.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Can I just say: nope nope nope?" Clarice remarks as she falls onto the pile of bodies, now slick with the slime from the pustule. So much for trying to avoid the goo...
    Then, just as she's starting to rise, other forms seem to rise up with her as well, one reaching towards her with a moan, it's jaw seeming to gape impossibly wide. "What the fuck!" she remarks emphatically, flinging the javelin she still holds at it. It blinks out - or half of it does, only to reappear above a creature reaching for her Queen, driving both forms towards the ground.
    "Let's find this person and get out of here!" Please.

Azazel has posed:
    As the body part start rising into the air and move towards his group, Azazel shakes his head, muttering, "No originality at all. You'd think in a couple thousand years they'd come up with something new." There's a series of *BAMF* noises that circle around them, along with brief glimpses of Azazel as if they were seeing him with a strobe light, but each flash is in another spot circling the group. He reappears in the spot he was a moment ago as all around the group suddenly severed body parts fall and splort to the ground.

    At Clarice's request, he chuckles and murmers "Not as fun a trip as you were hoping for? One second." He closes his eyes and spins in place, calling to mind the _feel_ of the call that managed to reach him. When he feels something familiar in front of him, he opens his eyes. He's facing the attacking Fiend, or perhaps more likely one of the Imps behind it, since it doesn't seem to have any interest in being rescued.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Zombies. Seriously? Take a little trick to hell and you get zombies rising up from a pile of corpses. Azazel was right, that lacked originality but it was still a threat.

Using a serious of flips, slides, and dives, Mystique avoids being grabbed or even touched as she carefully takes head shots. Everyone in the universe knew you killed zombies by damaging the brains, but of course this was hell and that might not be the case. That didn't stop her from trying, keeping count of the shots to know when she would need to reload, while looking for a place to put herself that wasn't the mound of bodies getting up.

"Azazel," she calls out with another flip. "Did this message offer up a calling card? Maybe a..." she takes another aimed head shot. "... memo on who it was calling out for help?"

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna Dane lifts her leg to kick off whatever was grasping at her. In doing so she rises into the air a few feet to help keep herself corpse-grope-free. Just in time for Clarice's javeline to stab downward pinning the creature before it can get closer. A few more crawl their way out of the mass of corpses only to be met with a quick flick of her wrist. Those spoons, innocent as they seemingly were, plunge through the bodies by sheer force alone causing a few rather wet spluches on their exit as they zig-zag through vital points. "Nice shot," she offers out in response to Azazel slicing and dicing himself. "And in a fashionable suit no less."

Ree has posed:
WHO DARES

The voice isn't a voice, it's more of a vibration in the...I suppose you would have to call it air. The stench is truly awful, and anyone who'd had salmon or cream cheese recently would be recalling it forever. It's undeniably something mixed with the smell of brown overripe mongoose nostrils and bile flavoured every flavour beans.

When the zombies prove ineffectual to the point of being exploded, whoever is sending them slows their advance. Not stops it, just stops wasting energy on an ineffectual tactic. Instead, another set of words rings through the air, the land, and can be felt in your feet as much as your ears.

KEEP THEM HERE

Fiends rise up, floating on wings which shouldn't hold them. Some have too much wing, and none have what would be considered anything less than a nightmare. If you can look past the gross, they're actually kind of pretty.

I can't look past the gross, and neither should you, because the first begins an aerial attack run. It spreads out arms covered in poisonous spines, and dives at the group. Another follows, this one oversized and likely to spit teeth. Then another. They come.

---

Below, Ree pitches the corpse into place. She suddenly shrieks, her right arm being torn off by something she didn't see, and though she's loud her voice would just blend in with too many others. She grabs, trying to get her arm back, and ends up in a tussle with another Imp. He's trying to eat it.

She kicks him, she stomps on his face, then she holds her severed arm to her chest. And something odd happens. Azazel sees something that shouldn't be there. Jewelry, on an Imp. That female, the one with the arm, is wearing jewelry. And it's calling out. Not her, IT is calling. She's wearing something sentient, and it wants help.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "I'm used to more tropical climes," Clarice quips back - even as the winged monsters start towards them. "This place keeps getting better and better!" she remarks. She lets one of the fiends close in on her - watching it dive as she abruptly opens a portal directly in its path. It dives through, emerging to collide with another that had been headed for Lorna: a Royal Guard has to protect her Queen, after all. "HA!" she laughs, though the sound quickly changes to an, "AHH!" as she spots another approaching from behind out of her peripheral vision, prompting her to disappear, and re-emerge behind it, tossing a javelin that strikes it, and sheers off its wings.

Azazel has posed:
    Raising one arm, Azazel points down the slope at two imps currently fighting with each other. "There. The one that called out for rescue is there." He considers the incoming attackers, watching as Clarice redirects one and de-wings another. He considers the situation, then asks Clarice, "Can you bring those two imps to us? It'd probably be easier then fighting our way down there."

    He looks up as another shadow falls over the group, a large, armored form streaking in on wings far to small to actually support it. Yay for magic. He finishes his request to Clarice with a calm, "Pardon me a moment." then vanishes with the signature *BAMF*, appearing standing on the armored demon's back. He considers it's velocity for a moment, then teleports again, taking the demon with him. He reappears standing exactly where he was a second ago. There is a hideous screeching, squelching and crunching sound as the slope shudders and heaves beneath them.

    Apparently he was still standing on the demon when he reappeared, and it is now implanted into the mountain of bodies, and from the sound of it, not neatly or comfortably.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
There are still numerous zombies shambling their way around, so when Mystique finds a place to stand that isn't going to get up from underneath her, she starts taking aimed shots into their heads, one after the other.

"I'll take care of the stragglers," she announces. "Those flying things are on the three of you."

As Azazel points out their target, her eyes shift to look in that direction. Taking in the number of enemies between them and the Imp, the capabilities of the team, and the appearance of the Fiends, she determines that it would be possible to fight their way over there, but letting Clarice move the Imps was the more logical solution.

"Get them in close to me Clarice," she then adds to Azazel's suggestion. "I'll take care of the other one that... has her arm... it has her arm..." it take her a moment to let that sink in and get shoved aside to talk about over alcohol later.

Lorna Dane has posed:
"Clarice, don't split your attention so much," Lorna suggests while her spoons float around waiting for their next targets. A quick reassessment of the situation though provides her with a rather large, splitting grin. Metal. So much metal of various sorts. From the armor of the newly buried fiend, to weaponry, to the very iron in the blood of the masses that they stood upon. A single deep breath is drawn which she regrets instantly. Oh god that SMELL.

Drawing a sleeve up over her face she glowers at the general existance of this plane to begin with. "Enough of this," she mutters to herself. A little roll of her head follows as she stretches her senses out reaching for every delicious magnetic resonance that responds to her.

It wasn't often she used her powers to this extent. Surely, if anywhere, she could let loose in Hell of all places. It wasn't as if she were actually killing anyone. The flying fiends start to shudder, eyeballs growing and exploding as the very iron in their blood starts to gather, twist, and crush them from the inside. The used bullets that Mystique has spent are drawn in to add to her arsenal of spoons swirling around her in a protective vortex that can strike out at any who grow too close or too dangerous.

"See to the girl we're rescuing," she suggests. "The rest are easy enough to take care of."

Ree has posed:
Ree is currently fighting her own fight, against another person who has both arms. She hisses in his face, which is just a message between friends of sorts. You don't play this game with me, she's saying. It makes the other Imp laugh, and slam his fist into her face.

Even now, males are bigger.

And even now, she's clearly the dirtier fighter. That hiss, that chance for him to strike her, she was using her remaining arm to grab him between the legs. Without clothing, body parts are easy to get ahold of, and she crushes what she finds there in her hand, dropping down and yanking. Message: you got my arm. I got your genetalia.

A moment later she's ripping at him with her teeth, and an instant later she has her arm back. Dirty fighter indeed! If she's the one they're saving, she's going to need some anger management classes to fit in back home.

---

With fiends being destroyed by the heavy hitters now, they aren't stopping. Their job was simple. Keep them here. When another fiend dares to come in, slicing itself to bloody gibbons on Lorna's swirling maelstrom of metal, and another claws at Clarice to lose an arm, they aren't stopping. Even Azazel isn't stopping the assault. But it's not working, so why would they do that?

Because there's something bigger going on. Something...bigger.

The mountain of flesh, of bubbling pus, seems to be leaning. Leaning closer. Falling.

Keep them THERE. Where I can step on them, apparently.

And the imp is right beneath it.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Daaaaaaamn, Lorna," Clarice remarks - even as she's nodding a confirmation to Azazel. She can, indeed, fetch a pair of imps with little trouble - and she blinks out, leaving the fiend who'd been reaching towards her to swipe at empty air.
    "Pardon me," she says brightly to the two imps. "Need a lift?" She'd appeared just beside the pair, and one of her portals appears around the trio and bring them back to the group - just in time for Clarice to look up and see the mountain of flesh falling towards them. "Oh. Shit," she remarks - lifting her hands and trying to cover the top of them with the largest portal she can muster. Still - the most she's ever managed is a semi-truck or so. This is a //mountain of flesh//. Might be more than her powers can manage.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
The towering mountain of flesh looms over head, the last of the zombies dispatched. Both guns had been reloaded twice, leaving one more reload in each boot, and only three bullets presently in each gun. Against the tower those bullets are worthless, but what's beneath the now tipping mass, way more important.

As Mystique moves with reflexes born from years of training, the guns are slipped into their holsters to free her arms. At a run she rolls herself down the flesh, aiming her body so that she can tackle/grab Clarice and the female Imp away from the falling wall of flesh and move in the direction of where Lorna hovers. In the process she manages to get the male Imp as well, but doesn't really give a flying fuck at the moment. The skill here wasn't in the maneuver, instead it was in making sure that as she struck the other two with her body there was enough force to move them but not enough to actually harm them.

Sliding to a stop with both Clarice and Imps in her arms, as she she rolls up onto her feet as she releases them and pulls the guns free once more time to shoot at a remaining zombie, then glances to make sure that at least two of the three she had grabbed were alright... that being Clarice and the female imp of course.

Lorna Dane has posed:
The bodies were felt moving. The shift and flow of things. Lorna's eyes were almost out of focus but not quite as she focuses her powers outward, again. The crevace created by Clarice is seized upon as the bodies start to mold AROUND them. There's a bubble she creates, a field where they simply don't enter as she projects the magnetic resonance needed to push them away. Her defense is still active around her as well though this was a rather hefty thing to keep up. A building would be one thing. This MOVED individually and was far more a challenge.

"Clarice, hurry," she utters between clenched teeth as she works to keep it going.

Bodies squelch and explode, flinging away from the mass to keep it from being too large, or heavy. To keep areas free for those she came with to move easily. However it goes, this 'wall of bodies' was being fought back against.

Azazel has posed:
    Once Clarice reappears with the imps, Azazel calls out "Link hands, we're leaving! Unless you like being squashed!" His tail wraps around Ree's tail, and one hand closes on Mystique's shoulder. He holds his other hand out for someone else to take, looking around the group to make sure everyone is in the chain of bodies linked to him. The moment they are, the entire group vanishes with a loud *BAMF* sound. Hopefully the demons attacking them are fast moving, because with Clarice and Lorna whisked away to another plane of existence, the powers they were using to keep the area clear end suddenly, and the mountain of flesh slams into the area they were keeping clear, rolling down the slopes of the huge mound, and generally disrupting the work that was being done to build it. That's going to take a lot of overtime to fix.

    Again, there's a moment of darkness and then the group reappears in the bar on Asteroid M, looking (and smelling) a bit worse for wear. Azazel's first action is to make sure everyone who was supposed to be here made it out, then he looks at the two imps. He addresses Ree first, saying "You seem to be the one who called out to me for rescue. So here we are, sit down a moment while I deal with something."

    Turning to the male imp, he steeples his fingers and asks, "And what about you, little one? I can find you something to do here, or I can drop you back where you came from. But understand, if you stay, you listen to me. Nobody in this little group would thank me for setting even a minor demon free on their world, so decide quickly."

Ree has posed:
She wasn't ready. She dropped her arm, and being told to link hands was basically just someone being intentionally cruel. She isn't sure where it went. She doesn't know these people. And she doesn't trust them. Nobody trusts anyone. Nobody prays, nobody hopes.

The world goes black, as she makes a choice. Just ..choose, and she touches Azazel's hand with her remaining one, her left, and then they're gone. And she's there, bleeding on the floor, red skin, tail, glowy yellow eyes. Imp, nothing, nobody. No choker, it seems to be gone.

Th eother imp does a little worse. He gets to his feet, hands spread as if to fight. He looks around for escape, he pauses. He looks at Azazel, up close and personal.

"It's not real," he says, he hisses, he doesn't believe it. She nods too. Neither of them is ready to make the big choices. Neither of them has any reason to trust them.

It could so easily be another lie, to be torn away when they try to believe. But it's a good one. The male imp sniffs the air. So real.

The female looks at Clarice, then at Mystique. She's not doing well.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    The air was knocked out of Clarice, a bit, when Mystique barrels into her - but her concentration doesn't waver, thankfully, keeping the portal up to move off as much of the mountain as she could. Of course, that also means she's fairly spent when they reappear in the bar, after after she'd grabbed hold of Mystique's hand with one hand, and Lorna's with the other to make sure they all made it back together.
    She sits down heavily, on the floor, and blinks at the imp in front of them, watching the blood coming out from that stump of an arm. "...is she bleeding out?" she remarks, pulling out her phone to tap in a quick message for the Medbay staff. 'Med emerg in bar.' Short, sweet, and simple. Yeah?

Raven Darkholme has posed:
As Azazel grabs her shoulder, Mystique grabs the dropped arm just in time before the bamf delivers them to the bar. She feels disgusting, covered in things she'll shower off later and never think about again. She looks around to ensure that everyone is there, and a plus one it would seem.

As Azazel moves to speak to the extra Imp, being correct that if the Imp wants to stay he goes with him, gets sent back to Hell or killed... those being the only options, she turns toward the female Imp and offers her back her arm.

"You dropped this," she says softly. "Not sure if you can put it back or not, but given that you were fighting to get it back, I assume you can."

Sascha behind the bar immediately plugs his nose and starts offering rags and water, even as Mystique waves him off. Her attention is on this Imp.

"I'm Mystique by the way," she says to Ree next and offer a smile. "What do we call you?"

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna Dane holds the magnetic field as long as she can. When she reaches out to link hands with the others, the shrapnel she'd been lifting around her drops down to be left behind. A small souvenier for the demons and imps. Then the world shifts back to the place they'd been before causing her a moment to stagger. The air though, it was clean, it was pure. As much as it could be for a bar. Something she never thought she would love in the past.

"Oh god I stink," she utters with annoyance. Even as she says it she wriggles out of her jacket abandoning it on the tabletop leaving her marginally cleaner. Marginally. One of the towels is taken from Sascha with a silent nod to swipe over her face a single time as she regards the group. Azazel. Mystique. And the newest, Ree. An eyebrow lifts. "If I didn't know better I'd guess this were some Crayola family reunion." Does she know better though? "If the imp isn't going to listen to you I'm flinging it into space. We're not dealing with this on the station."

Azazel has posed:
    Azazel shrugs, his red eyes boring into the imp's. "It's real, as I think you can probably tell by this point. And you can also see you don't exactly have a lot of fans here. So again, will you serve or am I removing you? I don't have the time or really the interest to wait while you decide." He points at Ree. "She called out for help, so I assume she'll listen. You are an extra, brought by accident. Choose now, and choose quickly."

    He glances over to Ree, then looks back to the imp he's dealing with. He knows far too well the sorts of things the denizens of the lower planes can do, and he's not about to take his eyes off the little thing until it's dealt with.

Ree has posed:
Oddly, threats help. Both of them settle down when 'thrown into space' is brought up. But when Ree is given her arm, she grasps at it weakly, then nods. Then, she says, or rather lets out a noise, that sounds like this:

"ReeeeeEEEEEeee..."

She does this as she's trying to put her arm back in place, and it's a mess. It's ugly, it's awful, and it looks -incredibly- painful. She's not quite getting the bits into the right places. She's trying, but as she looks up to Lorna. To Azazel, and to Mystique, she says softly, "Could use...help."

The other imp actually stares at Ree, then he begins to shake. As if his body isn't entirely under his control, or he's scared. Confused, and possibly insane. But he's not being violent.

Then the doors open in a rush, and the medical emergency team slams into the room. They've got this rapid response thing so ingrained it's amazing to watch. Dr Emily Hathaway looks around with triage-vision and spots the severed arm, the blood, and suddenly theres a stretcher in place and helping hands. Like freaking magic.

"What happened?" She doesn't want to know, but it's diagnostically helpful most times.

The male imp says, "I...would serve you, Lord." He looks uncertain. But, as I said, threats. That makes it real.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Hey doc. We took a little trip to hell," Clarice supplies conversationally - and not at all helpfully, as she takes one of the offered towels, and starts wiping some of the puss off of her.
    She pauses after a moment, though, to pull out her phone. Satellite emoji, house emoji, thumbs up. That message is sent - and would be clear enough.
    Of course, that's when she starts one of her stream-of-consciousness, WTF-does-that-mean? emoji strings. 'Fire. Devil. Arm. Puke face. Poop. Nauseated face.' Good luck figuring that one out, boys.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
With the request for help, Mystique looks like she's about to offer it as the medical team swoops in. Hathaway has them trained so well that if you blink, you miss the complete set up of equipment and personnel getting into place.

"Arm severed," she offers to Hathaway. "She needs help getting it lined up to reattach, should be no problem from there."

Now she takes a moment to do what she knows everyone in the room wished they could do. Her skin ruffles and shifts, as if she were changing forms, the effect looking like magnetic sand. Doing this sends the yuck and goo to the floor as she skin changes and in the end she is herself again, but clean.

"ReeeEEEeeee," she repeats as she looks back to Ree with a smile. "Mind if we just use Ree for short?"

Azazel has posed:
    Azazel nods when the imp gives his answer. "Good. Just sit there for now, I'll find a place for you in a little while, but I have other concerns at the moment." He moves over to Ree, watching without getting in the way of the trained people trying to help her. After a moment, he murmurs to Mystique, "I'll talk to her later, she looks like she needs some work done before she's ready for conversation. I'm going to install the little guy in one of my secured locations so he can't make trouble until he and I have a long talk, I'll be right back."

He walks back over to Plethorgruphnelz and reaches down to touch the little guy, then bamfs away with him.

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna Dane glances over to Clarice, and Mystique, regarding the pair. She's honestly checking for injuries. It's perhaps without need since Mystique does her ripple shift trick earning a small groan. "Show off. I'm going to be scrubbing in the shower for hours." Already she was tempted to just peel off her clothes and say 'fuck it' to walking back naked. She was a Queen, and a grumpy one at the moment. As nice as the thought was though she wasn't sure she had the confidence to do just that.

"I'm glad we all got out all right. ... Everyone worked admirably well together." Ah, she's just so used to being the one in charge, even if it was unnecessary. Still there's truth to her words, perhaps even a bit of appreciation for the fact that things HAD gone so smoothly. There were many missions she'd been on that weren't half as good and were planned out far more in-depth than this spur of the moment trip had been.

Ree has posed:
Hathaway moves to help Ree, her touch removing all sense of pain from the devil. She's about to try and reattach her arm, when that power hits her. Ree has been in pain nonstop for over twenty years...

She passes out. Instantly, unable to process. The arm hits the floor, she bleeds more. Aaand Hathaway takes it in and whisks her away. "We'll try the normal methods first, then."

The last thing you see of Ree is her tail going through the door, carried by a stretcher team. What happens to Plethorgruphnelz? That's up to Azazel.

That's the other Imp. Shut up, he didn't pick it.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique finishes cleaning herself off, and with Hathaway taking Ree, that left her to order people around.

"I want you, and you to stay," she points to two female orderlies. "You, got collect two robes, now, the rest of you, get out... you too Sascha."

Looking over to Clarice and Lorna, "I don't want this stuff tracked through the asteroid, so these two are going to hold up a blanket so you can both get undressed and put on a robe." She reports, then taps her ear to turn the comm up slightly. "Ree's to the med bay now, she's being taken care of, Azazel will be back in seconds."

The two that Mystique had stay pull a blanket from one of the cases the medical team brought in and hold it up to make a private area, even as the rest of the people in the room get the hell out. One female will return in about three minutes with two robes for Clarice and Lorna to wear.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice snickers at the 'WHAT THE HELL?!' she gets from her brother, typing out - no doubt to their continue bafflement, 'Exactly.' This is followed by, 'Were all fine.' Yes, were, not we're. Oh well.
    Setting her phone aside so she can change, Clarice climbs back to her feet, and seems to have no qualms about stripping down and putting on the robe - whether or not the blanket is being held up. She then goes back to trying to rub any remaining gunk off of her face, hands, and hair.
    "I don't think I would recommend a trip to hell," she remarks, before taking another seat almost immediately. She's going to need a nap in short order.
    "I should go explain myself to Theo and Pete at some point, though."

Lorna Dane has posed:
"Limbo isn't much better though there's admittedly fewer bodies, usually," Lorna explains as she quickly divests herself of the ruined clothes. The clean, dry robe is taken quickly to wrap around herself with a shudder. THe hair was going to be an issue but for now she'd deal with it. "Still don't recommend. Illyana's methods of teleportation are a bit more dizzying."

Azazel has posed:
    Yep, another *BAMF*. Azazel reappears in the bar without the imp, near Mystique. Seeing that the medical personnel and Ree are no longer here, he nods and says, "She's being taken care of, I assume?" A glance to Clarice and Lorna brings a small smile, "That's probably a good idea. Detritus from the various hells tends to be rather clinging, you'll probably want to just replace those clothes. I can replace them for the two of you if you like, they were ruined helping me, after all. It's entirely your call, of course, but I thought it polite to at least make the offer."

    He pulls out a chair with his tail and sits down, leaning back in the chair and asking "So, has that dampened your enthusiasm for side trips to the lower planes? Some of them are, scarily enough, far worse."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Since everything seemed to be in order for Clarice and Lorna, Mystique turns her attention now to the alcohol behind the bar. She was just about to walk behind the bar when Azazel bamfed in, which causes her head to turn to ensure it's him, and once she sees it is, she goes around the bar.

Beginning to pour herself a drink, as well as one for Azazel, the same that he had had when the spoke the day before. "I'd go again, but would take rifles instead, and more ammo. Lorna needs more metal to work with in these situations and rifles mean more shots... anyone else want a drink while I'm back here?"

She looks back to Azazel as she offers him the drink, "Ree's with the medical team now, yes. They'll get her fixed up, though I admit I would have liked to see first hand how she intended to attach her own arm. I'm sure Hathaway will video the process, she always does."

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna Dane flips the tie of the robe around a few times to ensure it's properly snug as she steps out from behind the dressing rack. "Well. With that I'm going to go shower for days. And yes, if I'm to be going on missions properly again I do need some more metal. As interesting as it is to use the iron in someone's blood it's a bit of a strain. ... Thankfully there was an awful lot of blood." A thought which sends a shudder through her. "I'm off. Good night."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Scotch wouldn't go amiss," Clarice remarks, glancing towards Lorna as the woman talks about Limbo. "I've been with Illyana - but I mean, I've never wandered around without her. Pretty sure that's ill advised... So I have no desire to wander around on my own." Her gaze shifts to Azazel as she adds, "I can do without visits to other planes, I think. I'm pretty fond of //this// one," she remarks firmly.
    "I've yet to find another plane with tropical islands. And honestly, I'm fine on clothes, don't worry about it."
    "Night, Lorna!" she calls after her Queen. "That was damned impressive, by the way!"

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique pours Clarice a scotch as she says, "Guest room is being set up for you Lorna, use all the water you want, had some soaps and shampoos, as well as extra clothing put in for you. Rest well."

She slides the drink to Clarice before picking up her own glass and walking around the bar to sit on the stool by Azazel. "Azazel my dear, how kind of you to offer to pay for clothing," she offers with a coy grin. "I'd like a new leather outfit, are you willing to pay for it even though I had no clothing destroyed? I'm going to be cleaning my guns for a week."

Azazel has posed:
    With a chuckle, Azazel takes the offered drink and replies, "Not that you actually wear clothes, but I'd be happy to buy you some if you'd really like me too. As I mentioned, I'm stupidly wealthy thanks to thousands of years of squirreling away various treasures I came across." He grins and takes a sip, then continues "I'll have to think about buying an island or something now that I'm back. It seems like I should build myself an oversized house and fill it up with all kinds of creature comforts."

    He sips again and changes topics. "I left the other imp in one of my most secure caches with a couple of the bamfs to keep him company... and keep him from getting in trouble, so we should have no problems there. I can't wait to talk to this Ree though, most imps are so beaten down they don't have the ability to think for themselves."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Was that a momentary flicker of desire in Clarice's gaze at the mention of buying an island? Surely not. But the young teleporter makes no mention if so - hiding her expression behind a sip of her scotch instead.
    "What the hell's a bamf?" she asks instead, puzzlement in her tone. "And if you're really that rich - well, want to cover all or part of a jewelry commision for me?" she suggests. She maaaaay have overspent on Theo's birthday - a little.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique crosses her right leg over the left, leaning her back against the bar as she takes a drink from her glass. Whiskey with a splash of blackberry flavoring syrup, mixing it up today. She glances to Clarice for a moment, one brow lifting slightly. Azazel can explain the Bamfs himself, she'll just grin over it... she always loved those little guys.

"Clarice, are you hinting that you need a raise?" She asks before leaning slightly against the devilish mutant, she just can't stop herself. "I can arrange one if it's needed, or I can merely throw you a few more random credit cards, or perhaps Azazel will give you a jewelry allowance for a price."

Turning her yellow eyes back to Azazel, a playful smile plays on her lips. "I have recently started wearing real clothing from time to time, just to 'change it up', and to give Lydia something to slowly remove or rip off my body. Want to take me shopping Azazel, find something you like to dress me up in?" She licks her lips before taking another drink, some habits were very difficult to toss out and flirting with Azazel was one of them.

Azazel has posed:
    Azazel's brow raises slightly as Mystique details the use she puts clothing to these days. "Well, that's quite the interesting picture you paint, my dear. We'll have to arrange a shopping trip shortly." He looks over to Clarice then chuckles, "Well, you did just take a trip to hell to help me out, that certainly deserves some reward. I'm fairly certain I can cover a jewelry purchase or two. As for what a bamf is..." He snaps his fingers and a miniature version of himself pops onto his shoulder with a very quiet version of the bamfing sound he makes when teleporting. "This is a bamf. They're minor demon larva I discovered on a trip to another hell and fed some of my own blood to bring them into my service and image. They're handy little guys, easy to overlook when they want to be."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "I'll have Raven pass the bill on to you, then," Clarice answers with a broad grin, before taking another sip of her scotch - before she's looking with raised eyebrows between Mystique and Azazel at the flirting. She doesn't offer any commentary though, remarking to her boss instead, "I mean, I wouldn't say //no// to a raise. My expenses have gone up a bit lately - but it's not like I can't make due."
    Her attention is quickly captured by the strange little thing on Azazel's shoulder, however. She stares at it a moment before remarking, "That... is the most adorable demon I've ever seen."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
The minute the Bamf appears Mystique almost squeals in delight, this being a sound that Clarice has never heard the blue mutant make before. Setting her drink down, she immediately reaches over and steals the Bamf off Azazel's shoulder to snuggle up against her chest, cradled in her arms like a baby.

"Aren't you just the most adorable little Bamf in the world," she coos softly, then turns on the stool do Clarice can get a better view and press her back against Azazel. "I /love/ these little guys /so/ much, you have no idea. We'll get you hooked up with a large salary Clarice, you do have two brother's you're raising." And then she makes the greatest sacrifice and offers the Bamf to Clarice.

"Rodeo drive in California?" She says to Azazel as she lays her head back onto his shoulder and looking up at him. "Hollywood Boulevard? So many choices."

Azazel has posed:
    Chuckling, Azazel leans down to kiss the top of her head as she leans against him, then shrugs, "Anywhere you like. It's not like we can't go anywhere on the planet in a second or two." He looks over to Clarice, "Yes, they do seem to have gone a bit cutesy for some reason. I blame Kurt's influence, ever since he turned some of them to his side they've changed a bit. They used to look almost exactly like a tiny me. Not that it matters overmuch, they still do what I need them to, and really, what else could make Raven make a sound like that? That alone is worth it."

    He glances over at the bamf, then says "That one should be Iggy, it's his week to be on call. They have a schedule so they don't get bored always doing the same thing."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Mystique's squeal is greeted with a blink of surprise, as she watches the woman snatch up the little demon. She's a little hesitant taking the thing as it's passed to her. Yes, it's adorable, but... it's also a //demon//. Right? "Uhh... hello, Iggy," she greets the thing, before returning her attention to her boss. "Like I said - wouldn't say no. And I've promised them both they can keep their allowances and such until they're done with school so... they'll probably both go in for 8 year degrees, you know?" she remarks with a wry grin - not that she would protest at all. As long as they were benefitting, she was happy.
    

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique snuggles up against Azazel and now that Clarice has Iggy, she picks her drink back up.

"I can be adorable," she comments with a slight pout. "It's rare, takes just the right situation, and a Bamf to do it... but I can be adorable. Azazel has seen just how adorable..." she leaves it there and takes a drink.

"They'll keep more than there allowances if they go on to college," she states plainly. "And you won't be paying for their education either, they'll get to study exactly what they want no matter the cost."

Azazel has posed:
    Azazel chuckles, idly running a finger up and down Mystique's arm. "It's nice having basically unlimited funds, isn't it? I'm going to enjoy spending some of the wealth I've amassed. There's really not much of an economy in the various hell dimensions, so it's just been sitting there for a long, long time. I'll have to put on my human suit and hire a staff, I imagine. Perhaps you can help me there, my dear. They're going to need to be a touch on the unscrupulous side, a lot of the things I'll be looking to turn to money probably count as protected antiquities of the countries they come from. I'll need to sell mostly on the black market, as they call it."

    Iggy seems to be about the most well behaved, and dare we say it, cuddly demon that has ever existed. He's perfectly happy to snuggle into Clarice's arms if she keeps possession of him, or Mystique's if he's passed back to the blue skinned mutant. Azazel comments, "I didn't need them to be vicious little things, they're mainly spies, security and distractions. So they don't act like normal demons might be expected to. They're not helpless, but combat isn't their real purpose."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Well - of course not just their allowances. I mean - I didn't expect any of us would just turn them out into the cold," Clarice remarks with amusement. "They'll have all the help they need, or could want."
    After a few more moments studying the strange little demon, she passes the bamf back to Mystique as she remarks, "Must be handy having your own spies, though- I mean, it's not like I'd be completely without resources if I needed something discovered."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique eagerly takes Iggy back, and once again he is cradled right up to her breasts in her arms. There were a few things in this world that Mystique was very easy about, Bamfs were one of them. One in the room instantly turned her into a squishy type, because they were just sooooo adorable.

"I can help you with that Azazel my dear," she offers to the devilish mutant, even as she cuddles up with the mini-version of him. "There aren't exactly employment agencies for unscrupulous employees, but I happen to know a few contacts to can arrange servants and workers who look the other way for a price. Loyalty for money is never that difficult to find."

After another moment of the snuggle, she settles Iggy back onto Azazel's shoulder then leans back against the man. "Speaking of Kurt..." she begins, knowing Clarice was safe to talk in front of regarding this. "It might not be a good idea for you to present yourself to your son at this time, Azazel. He's having quite a few issues dealing with having just learned I am his mother, and believes himself to be some kind of hideous demon... being a Catholic," she twitches at this. "... that's not a good thing in his mind. Seeing you, well that would seal the deal. We need to ease him into the truth."

Azazel has posed:
    Nodding to Mystique's statement about loyalty for money, he says, "Yes, but it's a little easier if you aim me at the unscrupulous types rather than having to try and see if any given employee is willing to break the law. And of course, other mutants who would like a job are better than filling my new home with humans. Perhaps some of your Genoshan citizens might be in need of a rather well payed position." He looks down at Mystique cuddling the bamf and smiles, slipping an arm around her. It's like a demon family picture come to life.

    When she mentions Kurt's beliefs, he just shakes his head, "Oh, that is just depressing to hear. Human religions are such idiocy, filled with whatever rules suit the people in charge. Well, at least he knows a little about his dad then, though I swear I never slithered around trying to get people to eat apples. Which, given that the whole Garden thing is pure fantasy, should not be a surprise."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Yeah, well, we really need to give Kurt the time to come around about his mother before we mess with him like that again..." Clarice remarks, shaking her head again. She glances at her phone - smirking with amusement as she adds, "I think I'm trying to boys' patience. They want to know what the hell my emoji's meant. I better go explain things to them and shower.
    Picking up her drink, she finishes off before remarking, "See you both later." And with that, she makes her way from the bar.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
For a moment Mystique's expression is distant, as she thinks about Kurt and how that had gone, but she pulls herself back.

"Tell them both I said be good," she offers to Clarice. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Turning her head back up to look at Azazel she smiles just seeing his face. "You know exactly how I feel about the hypocrisy of the Christian God, but he is very devote. He holds so firmly to his beliefs, at it seems to comfort him, so I won't be the one to tell him his belief in an invisible man in the sky is worthless."

Although she really didn't want to stop being right there against Azazel, it was time for her to shower and check in with Lydia as well. "We also know that if the garden of Eden was real, you /would/ be the snake who got Eve to eat the apple, and then you would have also done other things to her in spite of her being 'married' to Adam."

Lifting herself away from him and standing up, she finishes off her drink before leaning to place a kiss on Azazel's cheek, "It is time for me to shower and get some sleep. I will call you the minute Ree is up and moving around so you can return to talk to her."