9083/Path of Glory: He Shall Have Dominion

Path of Glory: He Shall Have Dominion
Date of Scene:	22 January 2022
Location:	Thomas Jefferson Park, East Harlem
Synopsis:	The Reistance scores yet another decisive victory over the angelic hosts. The Champions face off and find themselves rather equally matched. In the end, the divisive strike from Lady Death turns the tide and the Hell Lord pays with her body once more even as she throttles the advantage of Michael's demise.
Cast of Characters:	Michael Demiurgos, Jonathan Sims, Sarah Rainmaker, Michael Hannigan, Kaida Connolly, Hope Svelgate, Caitlin Fairchild
Tinyplot:	Path of Glory

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Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    With a clear and decisive victory against the forces of the angels the night before, it was only natural that the Archangel Michael would see fit to make an appearance of his own this time. Sure enough, early in the evening a contingency of angelic forces begins to swell on the horizon near Thomas Jefferson Park.

    The numbers, were not in the favor of the resistance last night, and they are surely not in the favor of the resistance this evening. The angelic numbers swell and swell and then they are at the border of the park; the distance in between the horizon and the edge of the grounds just...ignored.

    At the head of the contigency is the Archangel himself, resplendent in white mail that burns like the sun. He has another one of his divine lances in his right hand and the shield that pales in comparrison to his own armor in his left. At his side is his Champion, Caitlin Fairchild. Behind them row after row after row of anglic forces move in a single coherent mass.

    "Forces of the Resistance! I will grant you the victory you achieved yesterday, even if given unnecessary interference by my brothers! But I do hope you enjoyed your moment of blasphemous jubilation, for it ends now! I will have that Wellspring and you will all rejoin Our Father in peace and prosperity!" Michael's voice booms out over the park to all the defenders set up.

    "Hosts of Heaven!" he calls to his forces. "Advance!"

    With the single word the forces of Heaven move in to reclaim what they sought to take the night before.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon stands near a piece of artwork in the eastern section of the park. A tall pillar like structure serves as a base for a crystaline sphere. The "trunk" is hammered steel and beyond the hammering is unornamented, leaving the sphere atop it as the true vista of the piece. Inside the glass sphere are a number of arcing branches, and within the branches are a myriad of shapes. Birds, fish, reptiles, and what might be toys serve as the leaves for this tree of glass and metal. This is the El Arbol de Esperanza. The Tree of Hope. Gaea's wellspring to defend, and to mystical eyes it glows with tendrils of gold and white light.

    Jon's wearing his tac gear and carrying his staff. Tucked into a pocket of the vest: a vial of soil from Grand Central Station. He snorts at Michael's statement and calls, "Can't handle a little dissension in your ranks? Maybe you should learn to talk out your family issues!" But... they're doing this, like it or not. He shifts his hands on his staff and then puts up a barrier of green fire at a 7-foot radius around the Tree of Hope.

    "I just need enough time to cast this spell and Michael's forces will retreat," he notes to those around. Or at least, they did last time. He scans the horizon for a moment. Will Lady Death put in an appearance? They can only hope. He takes a step back and waves his staff. "Fire at will!"

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
Sarah Rainmaker would go to take her hands up together from her position and go to start laying in as thick a mist as she could. Going to start to heat the ground that had been covered in light frost and perhaps even snow. Raising the temperature to have a fog go up from the steam, then increasing it once again over the area, making the air heavier thanks to the increase in density from the fast freeze on the steam. This would hopefully blanket the area in a thick pelt of mist. Her going as far as she could around the tree and teh group that was dug in, giving a quick click of her tongue along the comm. <<Giving us some cover with the weather. It's not goin to last very long but hopefully will give us at least a few seconds>> Her hands braced together as she's ducked behind an upturned and smashed car that had been smashed over in one of the earlier fights. Pressed behind it and occasionally looking oer. Moving to stay close to the ground for now and not go to pick up and fly. Watching the arriving archangel and his troops.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
As for why Mike is here, it's a bit of a mute point. The Manhattan based musician has a lot of ties to the area and it is quite possible one of those just happened to ripcord him back to the area. Perhaps the number he was given to call actually picked up and told him to be here. Or -he could just have been incredibly stupid tonight. Each are likely possibilities. But if his friend were asked to place bets, he'd probably go with stupidity.

Either way Mike's here. And he's aware enough of the situation to at least be aware of his surroundings as he sets out doing whatever errand he's doing that merits him running from the direction of a recently evacuated shelter carrying a backpack with what looks like the corner of a child's blanket and the arm of a teddy bear peeking out of it.

As the booming of Michael's voice reaches even Mike's ears, the musician grimaces. Dammit. They're hitting this area of the city tonight? As he picks up running, the visual of the bag on his back starts to shift, what was peeking out of the right side of the backpack ends up peeking out of the left as he starts to Phantasm. The mirrored man leaps up and rolls forward, figure shifting smaller and darker before man and backpack are gone, leaving the visage of a purplish black raven taking flight.

This would be a good time for the Phantasm to make his leave but darn it all... Ravens tend to be curious things. With a flip and a roll in the sky, the bird heads towards the park.

Kaida Connolly has posed:
It took some time. Time that they didn't really have but time that had to be taken all the same. It was clear after a nap that this wasn't going to change. Maybe it would eventually but for now. It was just the way things were. Strangely, it felt familiar. It felt like this was a way she should be or perhaps could be. The dreams she had been having lately. Dreams that scolded her for goofing off. Resting on her laurels.

Acting like a fool with powers she did not grasp.

So, she worked at it. Focused on it. Focused on this way. This way of being. She knew that she couldn't change who she was at her core. She would always be that way because she had to be. It was an old saying.

'Had to laugh to keep from crying.'

And so laugh she did. Always. Today though. The forces of heaven had made one hell of a mistake.

Sarah's fog, a blanket of mist flowing out over the field made for a perfect blanket to cover a being who knows more about sound and smell than about sight. The angels, big and small, marching through it might sense something. Surely, some of their senses were based far greater things than plain old sight. However, it was very hard to follow when the mist swirled and briefly parted as a blur of shadow raced through the mist to the sound akin to a gun shot going off.

There's a brief gleam of two eyes glowing in the shadow and mist. The gleam of a sword made of Amazonian steel, one of the few weapons that could handle such a being moving at such a speed slicing through the heavenly host as she passed by them.

A melodic bit of laughter came with a mischevious lilt.

Then it selected another direction and once more there was a burst of sound and that form that was there barely long enough to register is gone with, leaving a glint of slashing steel aimed for another group of angels. The only evidence of the passing of that silhouette is the swirling mist in its wake.

Hope Svelgate has posed:
    Two weeks ago Lady Death was seen being carried from the field after Michael's destruction unleashed the equivalent of a Holy tactical nuclear strike on her at point blank range. As more and more time passed without her surfacing to confront the angelic armies or even her forces taking the field whispers began to circulate that the vaunted Hell Lord, a mortal who managed to not only survive but thrive in Hell and tear that mantle from its previous owner, may have truly perished.

    It certainly seems possible. As the Heavenly Hosts move in and Jon gives the order to open fire, the White Witch, Hell's Own Valkyrie, Lady Death is nowhere to be seen. But then, the ground begins to shake as a rumbling builds and cracks begin to snake through the asphalt and earth of the park and its surrounding streets and paths. One by one skeletal hands punch up through the ground! The hands are soon followed by the rest of the skeletons as the armies of the dead emerge, glad in the uniforms and armor of a thousand different armies and bearing arms ranging from viking swords to Viet Nam era heavy machine guns. The assault against the angelic forces begins.

    As Below, So Above. In a different sort of pincer maneuver than the last time, winged demons descend from above the clouds, keening and descending upon the Host with claws bared. And stepping into view atop one of the buildings overlooking the park silhoutted against the light of the rising moon is the Hellborn Warrior herself, Lady Death. Her previous dominatrix looking leather 'armor' destroyed in the last battle has been replaced by fierce looking spiked black metal plate, in one hand the Chaos-forged blade Apocalypse glows with unholy might, her other hand, ensconced in a gleaming silver gauntlet, raises a scythe of rune-forged Asgardian make. And padding up to her on either side are the Nameless Wolves, a pair of Hellish lupine beasts almost as tall as a man at the shoulder.

"Ingen nad! Utrota dem!"
("No quarter! Exterminate them!")

    To mystic senses, there are no sudden portals to be felt this time. She knew and her forces were waiting.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"Sarah!"

Caitlin's voice can be heard lifting over the din as Sims' barrier goes up around the tree. "Listen, it's not too late to just walk away! I mean, I understand that you won't, because, you probably feel like you can't," she admits. "But you can! And if you do, it's all-- we're good, okay? This isn't personal, I promise!"

"I'll make it up to you, I'll bake a pie or something!" Caitlin glances sideways and catches a reproachful look from Michael. "What? Who doesn't like pie?" she says defensively.

Caitlin turns to the angelic host nearby and makes a gesture. Unlike the rank-and-file of powerhouse angels normally moving around, Caitlin is conferring with one of the Power and one Virtue, who step forward to attend her. "I need a squad of Virtues airborne and traiing conducting wire to the ground level. Get the ambient air over the dew point, it's easier to heat the area than try to move that much wind around."

The Virtue takes flight, gathering others to do Caitlin's bidding. Almost immediately the area is bathed in warm, golden light, a pleasant springtime warmth that prickles against the wall of hoary mist.

Caitlin gestures at the elegant grace of the Power waiting patiently for instruction. "Start analyzing that barrier and how to take it down. Knowing Sims, it's probably more than just a cool special effect."

Orders given, Caitlin hefts her heavy two-handed maul, looks at Lady Death, and nods at Michael. "I'm off to make friends," she tells him, and steps into a running stride. With a grunt of effort Caitlin kicks off the ground and flies through the air like an arcing shot from a catapault, aiming her feet to hit the surface as close to Sims' position as possible.

Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    Numbers of angels fall (either by Amazonian swords of terrifing speed, or relentless viking assualt, or gunfire from machine guns, or from the more modern guns of the Resistance. They die in bursts of St. Elmos fire, or shimmering sparkles, or explosive pillars of fire, or concussive waves of sound, but they die. And yet, their numbers don't seem to end. The living, the dead, and the demons meet divinity and light and it's absolute chaos. Golden light, blackest darkness, and green light all clash to the eyes of the Phatasm, a corruscation of color and emotion that would threaten to overwhelm mortal minds.

    Sarah's mist-laden dew fades under the assult of the Virtue before said Virtue is engaged with something large black and winged. Another Virtue crosses the field and fires blast after blast of divine fire at the supersonic mouse-girl. Missing with each strike but it should be enough to keep her focused on dodging instead of laying low the forces of divinity.

    A Throne whirls in from overhead and blasts at the overturned cars, one of which hides Sarah Rainmaker. The car simply evaporates under the pressure of being Seen by one of the eyes of God and that leaves the Rainmaker out in the open. Another high pitched whine gives evidence that the Throne may be looking to add the Apache woman to the scores of victims.

    Caitlin lands opposite of Jon -inside- his circle. The barrier, after all, was to prevent angelic energies and while Cait has that in her, her most defining trait is that she is still mortal. Champion faces off against Champion, but something is very different this time around. Michael isn't the only one who can imbue his forces with powers beyond their normal scope.

    Michael looks up at the woman he all but destoryed the last time they met and he shakes his head before throwing his lance into the ground at his feet. "You should've stayed where you belong, Lady of the Dead. I would have come for you soon enough. But if you wish to find your final end here..." He reaches and draws the Sword from his side. Michael's Sword, named Aubade, is a simple bastard sword of what to the mortal eye would appear to be high quality steel. But to those who have mystical sight, Michael's Sword is something that should not exist. It pulses with power that is too much. Looking upon Aubade is like looking into the pit of a black hole and seeing the theoretical white hole on the other side. It's like looking at the heart of the brightest stars. It is seeing the absolute Truth of all Creation and understanding that it's just far too damn big for any one person to understand. That is what Michael draws from the unadorned sheath at his side as he stares at Lady Death. "I will oblige to give it to you." Then as he unfurls his wings, one resplendent, one marred and bloody, he sails from the ground level to meet with Lady Death in combat.

    At his approach, Aubade touches one of the demons... and it is no more. There is no flash of light, no eruption of power, it simply touches the blade and is gone. Three more of the winged monsters lunge for him and meet his shield, their own hellfire washes over the defensive impliment and meets no quarter before the blade flashes again and all three meet the same sudden and empty end.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Caitlin's here. /Shit/. That... complicates things.

    <<No lethal force on the mortals!>> he calls over comms. That means Caitlin, and whoever else might be fighting alongside her. He scans the field briefly, seeing movement in the fog, laughter and slashing steel. Lady Death's forces arriving surprises him not at all; it's almost a relief. And some corner of his mind, the corner that is the Archivist, thinks 'damn that was /cool/.'

    "I don't want to fight you, Caitlin!" Jon calls out as the other Champion lands /inside/ his barrier. /Shit/. "But I /have/ to do this!" He spins his staff and summons a shield of water, his own shield, not reinforced by Gaea's power--unlike the green fire surrounding the Tree of Hope. He'll have to pray it can hold Caitlin off; it didn't last time they faced off, but his current patron's provided a bit more oomph to his spells since then.

    Then he raises his left hand and thinks about light, and life. About children--his daughters, alive and dead, biological and not. About the teenagers he mentors, the children they've been evacuating, the children ensconced in the Hyatt back at Grand Central. Meggan's emotional bomb yesterday, drawing on the power and emotion of El Barrio. Life, and light, and hope. A beam of pure white light encases several strands of the energy of Gaea's wellspring, and he bends the energy into a circle, laid down horizontally. One down, six to go. Hopefully it'll hold together better, using the actual elemental resonance of the site.

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
Any sort of focus that Sarah Rainmaker might have for the moment would be broken by the sight of Caitlin. It makes her just a hair too slow over as the hammer would smash down over where she had been ducking. And then she would dart to the side, away from it. She wasn't in a position where she could really attack the thing.. But she had at least a few tricks up her sleeve. She would go to hurl a lightning bolt over at the engine of the car after diving as far away as she could. Then she would go to make a massive blast of wind over at the vehicle to try and focus the concussion and fire from the explosion over -at- the throne if at all possible. For the moment, just defending herself from the first attack, tensing. Not able to maintain the mist at the same time.
    "Caitlin! Please, stop!" Trying to make her yelling carry through as she would scramble. "Please, stop!" There's a desperate plea in her voice as she would scramble.
    As Caitling oes to land within the shield, Sarah Rainmaker would desperately try to focus on how to keep her friend's attention.
    The wind hopefully keeping the worst of teh explosion away from her and if she was -really- lucky immolating teh throne.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
As the raven flies in upon the scene of the mist covered battle field with glimpses of what could best termed the army of the undead facing off against the army of heaven, it takes a moment to process. Body arching back, the black eyes of the avian takes stock of the visual while a general summary of what Terry gave him gives the counter agument in Phantasm's mind. There's what he was taught. And then there's what he was told. Facing off.

But then again, what he was taught isn't behaving how they should and that's quite... upsetting. Hearing the shout coming from Jon is the deciding factor. Eyes narrowed, and a decision made, and perhaps feeling a pull in that general direction, the raven's wings adjust, flying towards the area containing the tree surrounded by green fire.

Kaida Connolly has posed:
"Caitlin!" Kaida calls out and is about to go deal with her team's wayward Amazon/Awesome chef when someone sends fire at her. She dodges it and glares up with a huff. She can't use the mist as a hiding spot anymore and then more fire and she dodges that and has put her shield and sword away. She crosses her arms and huffs.

"I am-" Dodge. "-to talk-" Dodge. "-with-" Dodge. "-my friend." She glares even as she dodges again and then she really proves why turning Kaida from a six inch mouse into a five foot monster. Kaida, pound for pound is very strong. Now, she's vastly stronger thanks to silly angel shenanigans. So, she dodges again, glares and then she is standing by a car. Then a car is sailing through the air at the virtue and then another and another and another and another. Sorry insurance companies, you are in for a bad day. Before long, almost ten cars are sailing through the air at the virtue. Kaida is off to the side letting out slow huffs and then glares at Caitlin.

"YOU JERK! I need a snacky shake and you're being a big jerk!" And then Kaida grabs her ever present pack, opens it up and pulls out an entire two subway footlongs and eats them both right there on the spot and washes it down with a crushed pair of soda cans.

Dragonborn eat your heart out.

Hope Svelgate has posed:
    Lady Death directs the Nameless Wolves naught but her eyes, a quick glance at each and a motion of her head. The beasts leap from the rooftop towards the confrontation between Jon and Caitlin, only to be brought up short. Thunk thunk, one massive hell beast and then the other lands atop Jon's mystic barrier. Blazing eyes above slavering maws full of fangs peer down through the forcefield from above as they paw at it and pace in circles trying to find a way in. Another gesture directs one of the detachments of winged demons against the Virtue squad. No skilled battlefield commander is going to let special detachments operate unmolested, after all.

    "Betraying your friend for absentee gods who have never done anything for you because you were told to once upon a time, blind faith in your abuser," She sneers down at Caitlin. "And they call me a monster." Lady Death spits the words as she looks down at that confrontation.

    Her attention is not there for long though, she knows full well Michael isn't going to let her interfere with any other part of the battlefield. "So, you've finally decided to get serious." Her eyes narrow upon Aubade. "Good I'm tired of wasting time on you, too."

    The rune forged scythe is hurled into the sky, but not at Michael. It flies off spinning as if it has a mind of its own to find angelic blood, unceasing in its motion as the Energy Arcane wills it ever forward.

    Whereupon Lady Death proceeds to grip Apocalypse with both hands for the first time anyone present has ever witnessed. As she grips the weapon, the glow upon the blade intensifies. Dancing flame-like blue Energy Arcane sparks all around it shooting off in all directions as the weapon overflows with it. Only for the blue of the Energy Arcane to be sheathed in brilliant orange Hellfire suddenly making the blade seem far larger than it actually is. Within it all, a spiral of Entropic Chaos drawn from the Ends of Infinity, from the time before Creation begins to move up the blade, engulfing, blending into, merging all of the various powers into one cohesive mystic force blindingly bright to arcane senses.

    "No tricks this time asshole. All of this ends now. You end now." Intense eyes stare daggers straight into the core of Michael's being, tension hanging in the air like a pair of Samurai before a decisive blade clash. When Michael bursts forward, so does she! Arcane power trailing through the air behind her from Apocalypse held aloft, and then they CLASH!

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
There are a lot of people yelling at Caitlin, and when that barrier snaps into place in front of her the redhead stares skywards in supplication with an expression of deep exasperation over any other emotion. "I have been telling you people for WEEKS to stay clear of this!" she yells back at Kaida and Sarah. "GO HOME. This does not need to be your fight! Look! Look at the sky!" She points a finger upwards at the colossal clash between Michael and Lady Death. "There is no reason AT ALL for you to take HER word over MINE, when she is summoning LI-TER-AL demons to fight the Archangel Michael!!!"

Caitlin throws two punches at the watery wall, to little effect-- but she didn't expect much either, apparently. The redhead grabs a nearby light pole and twists it open with her bare hands. Metal screeches dreadfully and she rips out the copper wires that run up the length of the lamppost. The electricity clearly doesn't bother her much. She tosses one of the split wires over the top of the watery shield, and her aim's good enough to have it land on a puddle on the far side. She waits for the water to spread just enough, then tosses the other wire on the ground. It closes a very powerful circuit of city-provided power-- with Jon Sims' feet right between those two electrodes.

Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    The Throne meets the wall of flame and can't do much to avoid it. Gas fires are terrible things. This one is no different and the wail of the Throne is that same tritone scream before it crashes into one of the buildings across the street and detonates. After the wash of sound and concussive force is over, the building and everything within 30 feet of the building is now a large crater where the Throne died.

    The Virtue's eyes widen as cars are hurled one after another at it. It's its turn to dodge, dodge, dodge, dodge, and dodge again. It manages, only getting clipped by the last of the large projectiles thrown by the oversized mouse and her oversized strength.

    The collision of Apocalypse with Aubade is something that should be in religious texts, or history books, or high fantasy novels. It's explosive and the Earth itself shudders at the collision. Lady Death and Michael face off in the sky, dark vs light, chaso vs order, hell vs heaven. Their movements are too fast to behold as anything but brief collisions of sparks in the dark sky.

    To the two engaged it's another matter entirely. Blades meet and repel each other. Apocalypse, the sword of forged Chaos, is at an even match with Aubade, the sword of forged Order it would seem. They could fight for eaons and neither would truly move an inch.

    At one meeting Michael speaks to his opponent. "You truly perplex me. You claim to have no interest and yet, here you are fighting alongside those who would shun you. -I- do not shun you. -I- would embrace you as an equal. The world that is to come could be ours together if you wanted. -I- respect your power more than any mortal truly could. Just join me instead of wasting time on this rabble. And greatness could be yours."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    The power circuit that Caitlin creates does indeed close--but a shimmering shield of woven green appears around Jon, the same color as the barrier around the Tree of Hope that the hell hounds are trying to get through. The current dances over the shield, causing his hair to frizz out and float a bit, and he winces--but it's little more than an electric shock to him. He's /Gaea's/ Champion, after all. Even aside from Her determination to keep him alive, earth-bound elements aren't likely to do much, just now.

    Still, no point in staying where the electricity will mess with his magic. He side-steps away from the spot with the electrodes, feet moving in a weaving pattern that looks more like dancing than anything military or tactical. "She hasn't seen what the angels are doing," he calls to Kaida and Sarah. "She hasn't seen the dead bodies. The people we can't bury because they were immolated. The four-block crater in Inwood caused when the Metatron exploded." A pause. "Of course, Jegudiel intervened to save a pregnant woman from being hurt by a Throne--none of this is /simple/."

    He huffs out a breath. Caitlin hasn't hurt him yet, so he's not about to go on the attack. Instead, he focuses his attention on the Tree of Hope. While he speaks, he lays down another circle of light, creating a vesica piscis. Then the third circle, creating three interlocking rings--and now his water shield begins to weaken, because the next phase is much harder to hold together. At least the talking is keeping him focused.

    So that's /about/ when Aubade and Apocalypse clash, and he turns, distracted. And for a moment, he's wide open as he stares slack-jawed at Michael's Sword, stares through that black hole at the white hole beyond, at the heart of a star. At the thing that's going to kill him, even if that doesn't register in his conscious mind.

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
It's a bit late for her to try and help poor Jonathan, but Sarah Rainmaker is going to at least -try- to help. She would go to take her hand up, going to yank Caitlin hard along if she could by the airstream. Going to try and whiplash around her friend, going to try and just hold Fairchild up several meters in the air if at all possible. "Caitlin, we are your friends. You were a sister to me. You still are. We're not going toabandon you. I already abandoned you once. I couldn't again. But this isn't you."
    She would look over at Michael, "HE attacked children. Children. They were just trying to leave the area. He sent in angels to kill them. I wouldn't have gotten involved before then but to try and help you. But there are some boundaries that can't be crossed." Sarah is heaving in and out.
    "I'm sorry for having not been there the last several years. I'm sorry for having not kept in touch. You are my freind, Caitlin. I abandoned you and I can't make up for that. But I have to do everything I can to save you the way you saved me." She's in a defensive stance now. Her eyes hopefully lockedup wtih Fairchild. She's strong enough with her winds to hopefully hold Caitlin up in them for a few moments. Caitlin knows full well how her powers work but Sarah at least has the advantage of Fairchild being fully ground-bound.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
As the raven flies in, the visual of the hell hounds not being able to get in despite Caitlin's landing inside is noted. Well, that isn't disconcerting at all, is it? But any doubts that may have started up are soon washed away as Caitlin starts ripping the light pole out of the ground. Electric plus w- NOT GOOD.

Extra motivated now by the sight of the raven lacking attempted murder, the bird's flight speeds up. Upon approach, the bird's body tucks and rolls, starting to change. With each spin, body becomes larger and lighter, less feathery and more furry until the form untucks. Instead of the twenty six inch tall raven with a three foot wingspan, a six foot wolf is in its place. It is a magnificent beast, with a gray brown and white mix of a winter coat witha tail long and bushy with intense blue eyes. Quite a lovely sight to see. And that fur missile is on a collision course with Caitlin.

Kaida Connolly has posed:
Well, she really didn't expect for that thing to dodge that many large vehicles thrown its way. Somewhat unexpected but then hey. Angels and all that. It does, however stop the fire from flying at her temporarily which gives Kaida an opportunity to go help Jon briefly. Not to mention she wants to get at Caitlin and defeat her with the power of mouse girl guilt. It's patent pending.

So, she turns and is gone in a burst of speed. She races right toward Caitlin and then there's a thud. A solid thud and like the dogs of Lady Death's war, she hits the shield and slams into it. Kaida's face is flattened against it and she is rather lucky that her natural toughness was increased as well. She winces as she groans and stumbles back. She blinks slowly as she holds her head and tries to figure out what truck just hit her but she still manages to point at Caitlin and mutter out.

"You...you're a bad friend..." And she then wobbles and her eyes go wide as she shakes her head, "What the..." And then she shakes her head harder, slapping the side of her head to get the little stars to stop wobbling about her skull.

Hope Svelgate has posed:
    Lady Death is lost in the clash of blades, she actually seems to be /enjoying/ it Aubade and Apocalypse collide again and again streaking through the evening sky, afterimages of mystic light left in their wake.

    And then Michael makes his offer. "And just like that, I should stop, I should forgive you for leaving me to burn." At first she sounds incredulous. "And what if I did? I'm not fighting for them, an equal you say?"

The sparks of the blade clash lessen as the eyes of Hope Svelgate stare into Michael's. "Alright, I'm listening. Convince me!"

Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    Caitlin seems only mildly phased by Jon's immunity to her attempt to electify him and then irritated by the winds sweeping her up. "I gave you every opportunity to leave" she says. "You can just go home. You don't need to be here helping... him" she pleades with Sarah and Kaida before golden wings of light sprout from her back. With a twist she escapes the windtunnel. Just as she does, her legs come up and she plants both feet into the muzzle of the black wolf-missile, converting his momentum to hers a she holds the maul forth, white and golden flame coalescing around it as she hurtles toward Jon's opened back.

    The angels continue to fight against the forces of death and hell as the heroes attempt to stall Michael's Champion from defeating Gaea's. The collision of Cait's maul with the shield is a thing if light show beauty, a green burst around Jon wars with the white and gold flame surrounding Caitlin.

    As Kaida pleads with her converted friend something looming steps up behind her. She has just enough time to move out of the way before the massive sword weilded by a Dominion comes hurtling for her location with devestating speed (or she can probably just catch the sword herself, her enchanged strength being what it is.)

    Michael and Lady Death stop their combat. He smiles. Look at all you have accomplished since that terrible night when you were burned. You've conquered Hell. Overcome the terrors therin, things that only a handful of mortals can even dream of doing. And instead of simply overcoming and finding a way out, you took what you were owed. You become its master."

    He offers her a hand. "If you join me... then you and I can have influence over what is created after. We can't fully end conflict, but we can ensure that it passes as -we- want it. You and I, co-rulers in the world that will be once Reclamation is finished. With you at my side, we can end this conflict in days... instead of this prolonged farce that the Resistance insists on with their pathetic actions."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    The force of Caitlin's hammer swing smashes into Jon's back while he's distracted staring at the clash of Aubade and Apocalypse. He screams in pain, as the green shield flashes again. It was meant to give them an even footing, after all, and to keep him from dying--not to keep him from any harm at all. He goes flying, thrown several yards past his own barrier, the impact with the ground breaking another rib.

    "Bloody /hell/, Caitlin!" he shouts, and pulls himself to his feet. He coughs, splattering blood down the front of his black fatigues. That's not good. He glowers at the Titan. "You do know you'd have /killed/ me by now if not for outside intervention! Some day we're going to have words about this!"

    Then he suddenly melds /into/ the ground. There's a ripple of motion along the snow-dusted grass and brick and he pops back up within the circle around the Tree of Hope, on the opposite side of the circle from Caitlin. Vines sprout from the ground, reaching for the flying form of Heaven's Champion. At the same time, Jon sends bolts of energy at her from his staff, that coalesce into yellow-orange crystals. No Void energy this time, just an attempt to get her off his back while he finishes the spell.

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
All right, this is getting a bit excessive. Sarah Rainmaker looks sadly at her only friend. "I'm sorry, Fairchild." The way she would shift to that marking a change of pace. "I'm sorry." her tone sad. "But you'd never forgive yourself.. And I'd never forgive myself." She would go to yank up with her hand, going to try and catch Fairchild over in a brutal crossbreeze. Fairchild could fly yes, but Sarah was now just going to try and pull hard. Going to try and yank the three hundred and fifty so pounds of amazonian gen-active redhead and slam her away if at all possible, going to yank her around if she could hard. Presuming she could her hand would snap up into th eair, going to try and freeze Fairchild's ankles over to the ground. not that even if she was fast enough that it would last for more than a couple of seconds at best. If even that. But Sarah Rainmaker would walk over towards Caitlin, interposing herself between Jonathan and Caitlin.
    "Please, Caitlyn. Please." Her tone sad. "We can just leave. Go home to your friends. Go home to your family. They worry about you. They miss your cooking. Your shakes.." And she would hold her hands in front of her. "I'm sorry I lost the chance to be a part of it. But your friends don't want to keep on going wthiout you. And youc an't go on without them. Where's the Caitlin that would do anything tos tand by the side of her friends? You just can't leave them. You can't tell them to just not get involved. THey are your friends and your family, Caitlin. You can't just never come back. Please." Rainmaker goes to put herself between Caitlin and the stumbling Jonathan. Her hands snapping up. "You want to continue this, you go through me. Kill me if you must. At least I know I died trying to help you. Which is more than I deserve."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
It was a pretty wolf. Honestly it was. But it's not looking so pretty as the foot comes flying up. The visual clues are subconciously processed and the wolf ends up getting shoved back. Just the slightest of impact touching the feet as it gives the impression that something was there.

Perhaps, to the genius mind, it may seem like not enough pressure. But as the wolf flies back, landing onto the ground, it's probably not noticable. Rolling to his feet, the wolf chaises after Caitlin again, trying to get himself between her and Jon.... AFTER his attacks are done thank you very much.

Delay! Delay!

Kaida Connolly has posed:
A whistle comes out of Kaida as she sidesteps the sword just in time, shaking her head a little more. She looks over that sword and pulls out her own shield and sword before laughing. She points her sword up at Michael and dodges another blow before rushing up and trying to slice into the Dominion with her own blade before laughing more.

She ignores the dominion and runs up to the top of a building and laughs more, pointing and laughing more at Michael and finally she shakes her head.

"The Archangel Michael, Saint Michael, the first of the angels. God's sword. A HYPOCRITE!" She laughs out loud and prepares to dodge as necessary but keeps laughing with her shield held at her side, "A giant hypocrite! Humans must show unity?! Your own brothers and sisters do not even do that! No archangel does! They follow you because they must! Now you recruit the Lady of Death!" She laughs more and shakes her head even as she laughs.

"What a giant cosmic joke! Michael, the number one angel and number one hypocrite!"

Hope Svelgate has posed:
    In the sky, as she faces Michael, Lady Death's form shimmers and adopts the countenance of Hope Svelgate, a blonde Scandinavian young woman of much healthier pallor, seemingly glowing with Holy Light. She looks from Michael to the outstretched hand and Lady Death now in the countenance of her young holy maiden self, before the burning, before rising to become a Lord of Hell, reaches to take it.

    But that is not how the story of Lady Death ends. Instead of Michael's hand, she clasps his wrist and with a sharp tug brings him close, close enough to whisper in his ear. To the onlookers below it might even appear like a lover's embrace.

    <<You never learn.>> The white maiden whispers in Michael's ear, before thrusting the blade Apocalypse, still in her hand, through his gut.

    <<You'll never understand. And /that/ is why I will End you.>> The illusion melts away and Lady Death twists the blade in Michael's gut as she holds him there in close.

    But she knows what is coming. Fool her twice with the same trick, you will not. Leaning backwards so that back is to the ground and Michael's face's the sky, she places one of her high heeled armored boots upon his chest and kicks savagely upward, releasing all of Apocalypse's pent up summoned energy as she does in a massive skyward blast.

"Die clamans Michael!"

Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    Caitlin hovers in place. The vines are beaten back with two quick swings of the maul. But the blast from Jon hits, the crystal shards hammering into her armor. It doesn't seem to do more than force her to block but it gives Sarah an opening. The Rainmaker's wind catches on the Angelic Champions wings and pulls her to the ground. The Amazonian hits hard but is quickly to her feet, only to find ice holding her in place. She shakes her powerful legs and jerks one free just as the wolf harrasses her side. The maul swings in an arc catching the shadow beast and then stops before hitting Sarah. "I... I can't... you aren't supposed to get involved. None of you are. Can't you see?" she gestures at the angels fighting the demons. "Fighting against them is bad. They're trying to help us. To bring peace. To bring about paradise. Why do you fight against it?" she all but pleads. It may be her last warning to her friends.

    The Dominion tries to take the hyperfast mouse girl and fails. Her own speed was just too great. She encounters a set of Cherubim on the rooftop who spray the field with plasma infused projectiles... all miss and all are felled by slashes of that amazonian blade and it's far too capable weilder.

    The war between heaven and hell was all too much of a staging action for the angelic forces. Four Thrones simply fall down from the heavens and open fire of the site of El Arbol de Esperanza. There is a flash of light and the smell of springtime air as Gaea's barrier is simply erradicated, Dominion as well giving the Nameless Wolves plenty of opening to interfere as they see fit.

    Michael's eyes widen as the feel of the blade pierces him. Blood splashs out of his mouth, it likely has an almost acidic feel on the skin of Lady Death as it boils and sizzles against her skin. But she's probably not feeling it now.

    The white light engulfs Hope Svelgate just as Michael goes nuclear and she sends him rocketing into the Heavens, a shooting star going out from Earth instead of one propelling towards it. His explosion lights up the sky over the entire Northeast when it happens. But it doesn't have the resulting effect on the angelic forces below. Without being in the proximity of his blast, they are not rejuvenated as they were the first time his contengency happened.

    There is a pause from the majority of the forces.

    Their pause is interupted as the form of Lady Death careems down onto the Tree of Hope. The sphere of bronze and iron bars shatter under her impact, a number of them going through her bone white flesh as she destroys the physical marker for Gaea's wellspring. Even so... the Well itself is still quite active and awaiting more seals upon it by Gaea's Champion.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Sarah and Phantasm interpose themselves between Jon and Caitlin, and he shakes his head. "Nobody's bloody /dying/ today! Not if I can help it!" But he steps back and takes the chance to lay down the fourth circle, while Sarah pleads with her friend. He closes his eyes for a moment, swallows, lets the pain pass through him, filters out the hope underlying the words, the hope that Caitlin /will/ return to her friends someday. He uses it to fuel the spell. The construct above the Tree of Hope wobbles, but holds.

    Kaida laughs at Michael, points out his hypocrisy, that he calls for unity but sows dissension. Light, and life, brilliant and defiant. Courage and gumption, from a mouse girl grown large. He lays down the fifth circle, watching intently as it shifts the others around. Two more, now.

    Lady Death changes, high above, and he looks up. She's taken on the countenance of Hope, and for a moment he can see what the world lost when Hope was sent to Hell. What might have been, had that pure soul not been forced into torture? To become a woman who would so easily speak of death and torment? Is that why he keeps going back to talk to her? Some part of him convinced that he can save even a Hell Lord from what she's become?

    Probably a foolish task, and arrogant to even consider, but he uses the emotion to lay down the sixth circle. The whole thing wobbles, though he's got a grip on it. Now just one more.

    Then Lady Death /stabs/ Michael, and Jon's eyes widen. "Oh, /fuck/."

    He stretches out one hand to hold the spell in place. The other holds up his staff--and he tries, rather desperately, to catch Lady Death as she falls, with another barrier similar to the one that the Thrones just destroyed.

    ...She falls right through it, of course. Proof that she's still mortal.

    "Are you alright?!" he screams at Lady Death, then coughs up more blood. Would his healing even work on her? Would she be offended by the offer?

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
Sarah Rainmaker would go towards Caitlin, seemingly ignoring everything else around her as she would move to try and give Caitlin a tight hug if allowed. "No matter what happens, I forgive you. You will alwys be my sister, Caitlin. You will always be the onet hat saved me. You will always be the one who saved my soul and kept me from the darkness. I owe you everything. Please.. PLease. Drop this. I know that we can't put things hte way they are.. But you're my friend and my sister." She would go to sob then and go to try and cling tightly to the far huger woman. "I can't go through losing youa gain because I'm a failure. Please." She's sobbing loudly over even as she's trying to so long as her friend would let her hug. "Just.. I know you can't abandon this but please.. Please remember, we're all your friends. All your family. Please. Just no matter what happens remember that. And that everyone will forgive you and welcome you back no matter what. And I'm sorry." She would then slowly release the hug, and take some steps back. "I'ms o, so sorry that I failed." All the rest of the world and the war forgotten for a moment as she would look over at her friend, sobbing and tears freezing, leaving small tufts of ice along her cheeks as frost would come out. "I'm.. Sorry I failed. And we'll always be friends." Tears streaking down her face then as she would go to rest her hands at her side. "Please come home Cait."

Kaida Connolly has posed:
Finishing off the Cherubim, Kaida stumbles on her perch on the crumbling roof. She goes dizzy a moment and slides her sword away, grabbing her pack and opening it to find...a pack of cookies and she stares. She looks at the others and hten holds up a hand.

"Ok, I uh...I eat a lot." She tries to explain to no one in particular, "When I'm like..." She holds up a finger and thumb to indicate how tiny she usually is and then she nearly stumbles and tears into the cookies before sucking in a breath.

"I need to make lambas bread." She then rushes back down and drives her blade into the Dominion she was fighting before leaping off of him and rushing off, "Gonna pass out soon..." And she rushes off to find the nearest still source of food. It might seem strange, but she really and truly needs to refuel or else she's useless.

Hope Svelgate has posed:
While she fairs a bit better than the last time, forewarned is forearmed, Lady Death is still sent flying by the blast created by Michael's destruction. It felt good though, totally worth it. Though she'll definitely need to find another solution.

Like a meteor, the armor clad albino woman is ejected from the sky. She flies straight through the barrier Jon tries to erect as if it isn't even there. It certainly does say something about her, despite her protests to the contrary, but then Endless Death already told her that once, if only she'd listen.

There is a deafening crash and the protests of squealing metal as Lady Death impacts the top of the Tree of Hope. When the dust clears, there she is, impaled upon the rent and broken bits of metal that made up the trees upper reaches, hanging there like Odin did upon Yggdrasil, on the 'tree' that bears her name 'Hope'. Is there hope for her? Is she hope for others? That remains to be seen.

But she still has enough fight left in her to give the middle finger to the place in the sky Michael exploded with her good hand, before spitting out some of the black ichorous blood that is now streaming down her chin. "Get fucked Michael, this isn't over yet."

Eventually Jon's screaming reaches her and she looks down as the Nameless Wolves dash protectively to the base of the tree. "I've had better days. Now hurry up and win this fight so we can get on with the war." She rasps and then slumps back a bit, conserving her energy for the time being. Though streaks of glowing blue energy shot through with sparkling holy energy that makes her wince are already appearing around her wounds, helping them close. She'll probably need to get down from there soon, but for the moment she's taking a breather and letting her soldiers do the fighting.

Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    Caitlin looks torn as Sarah pours out her heart. "I... I..." She might've been broken at that very moment. And then Michael goes nuclear. "I can't!" she cries and breaks out of the Apache woman's grasp before lauching herself into the sky, she turns into a white streak heading to the West.

    The angels are falling by the score with the tether to their leader severed temporarily. The lack of focus allows the demons and minions of the dead to make short work of them before one of the Seraphs sounds a retreat and they begin to depart, the Thrones taking up a rear guard position to keep the forces at bay with devestating beams of divine light.

    A few moments pass before a golden light appears from the sky and Michael returns landing in a classic superhero pose (he doesn't have the weakness of knee and ankle joints to worry about.) His Sword is back in its sheath and he narrows his eyes at the those gathered at the Tree of Hope, now graced with Hope's damaged form.

    "I could end this now... one stroke and all is over..." he mutters more to himself than those gathered. Another voice answers him.

    "And violate the terms of our agreement? If you wish to lose so terribly, be my guest. But know that if you raise your hand, I will protect my children... all of them, I care not that the Presence's mantle is still upon you. They are my responsibility and you have lost another battle. Take your toys... and go." Gaea replies, her unearthly beauty hidden in the voluminous folds of her green robe.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon hesitates for a moment, then nods sharply to Lady Death. It's... strange, trying to do the last of the spell with a Hell Lord hanging impaled on the metal tree. But... she /did/ take the blast and protect them, in a way. So... Hope hangs there on the Tree, and Jon sighs, and takes a step back, and waves his staff in the air. One last circle.

    The seventh circle settles atop the others, and the white light flashes in the air above Lady Death. A hexafoil, Flower of Life, a protective symbol from long ago, etched through Europe and New England, on barns and churches and gravestones. He pulls a glass vial from a pouch on his tac vest and uncorks it, then uses flows of magic to lift it over the Tree of Hope. The vial tips, sprinkling the soil dug up from beneath the tunnels of Grand Central Station onto the center of the hexafoil. The dirt does not fall onto Lady Death, but instead solidifies the seal.

    "White light flashes down across 1st and 2nd Avenues, acros the Upper East Side, connecting Thomas Jefferson Park with Grand Central Station. Golden light flashes back, a line of magic visible across the city, to the eyes of all.

    He turns to glare at Michael. "Kaida's right," he spits. "You're a bloody hypocrite. I think I know how to fix the imbalance in the universe now--and isn't that the /real/ problem? /Isn't/ it?" He arches a brow. "Or is the /real/ problem that /you/ aren't the one fixing things?"

    He narrows his eyes. "Or are you just using all of this as an /excuse/ to re-form everything in /your/ image? That's not your /job/ and you know it. Keep to your Purpose, lest your soul be judged forfeit when your time comes."

    He thumps the butt end of his staff on the ground. "This site is sealed. The battle is over. Go, and let us tend our wounded, and dead." He's holding an arm across his chest, and wavering on his feet. He'll heal his wounds soon enough, but he's got to get Michael to leave first.

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
Sarah Rainmaker would break into sobs as she would look up into the air, yelling something that couldn't be made out. Then she would go to fall over onto her knees as her friend would vanish. She would bury her face over in her hands and nearly curl up fetal as whatever she had done with her friend seemed to have broken her mentally for just a few moents as she would curl up on the ground. Then as Gaea would enter she would seem to not notice, moving to slowly pick herself up and just stare for a moment, not blinking. Then breathe in and out. Her hands going up and in front of her as she would turn to focus on the no doubt continuing combat, hands up in front of her. An exhaustion on her face the likes of which there had not been before visible. And she would steel herself. Ready for things to continue.
    then turning to look up at MIchael, "You took my friend, my only family, the kindest girl in the universe.. You kill children. You attack anyone around you that does not conform to things. You hurt the helpless. You slaughter those of faith. You are a monster. If I could feel for you it would be sympathy at such a thing like youe xisting and that you do not have anything of purpose. Only your anguish and your hate." She is tired. So, so tired.
    "I can onyl feel sorrow for you. At those you've hurt, at those you've changed, at what you've done. You are but a monster that dosn't even bother to wrap around thesemlves and put up a pretense. Leave our world."

Hope Svelgate has posed:
There is an exasperated sigh when Michael reappears, as Lady Death begins tearing herself off of the metal pieces of twisted metal impaling her. "I will kill you as many times as I need to Michael, I even said good night so sweetly, so why don't you just go and stay dead for while?" There is a squelching noise of metal leaving flesh as she drops from the tree, but the wounds from mortal metal are already closing.

She holds out her hands and into one flies Apocalypse, into the other that rune-forged morphic Asgardian blade Synister. "This is a game, right? Rules are your whole fucking thing. /I'm/ the one who gets to flip the table." She says glancing sidelong at Gaea, the Hellish Valkyrie asks no ones help, nor seeks it, even if it is probably saving her at the moment.

Lady Death takes a step forward, choking up and spitting more of that ichorous blood. "One stroke? Then what are you waiting for? Or do you enjoy being cut down by me again and again that much?"

Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    Michael regards Gaea with a sigh. "Mortals and their ignorance." he mutters softly. Then he fixes his glowing blue eyes on Sarah. "The children would not have been harmed. The agents were my target. The woman you speak of rests comfortably at Saint Patrick, she like your 'family' has given herself willingly to my cause. Which brings me to my Champion. She is free to leave when she wishes... she does not and that is -her- choice. It is through no coercion of mine."

    He shakes his head as Lady Death begins to move off the rebar. "Stop... you have made your point... we will have another encounter soon enough..." He sighs one more time and steps back before bowing gracefully to Jonathan. "Another battle won for Gaea, Sims. Congratulations. Enjoy your time of safety, it will be over soon enough." Then with a flash and a slow peal of thunder he and Gaea are both gone and a soft quiet peace settles over the entire neighborhood.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Wanker," Jon says, glowering at the place where Michael used to be. He can't help mouthing off at the archangel, it seems. He shakes his head and turns to look out over the battlefield.

    "We're going to get Caitlin back, Rainmaker," he says aside to the woman. "She's going to see through him. We just have to... to give her the chance." He swallows, and flexes his grip on the staff. "Be nice if she'd stop breaking my bloody ribs, though," he mutters.

    Then he draws power up through his staff and sends it out and up into the clouds. Phoebe isn't here today, nor Lydia, nor any of the other magical healers, so he pours his energy into the clouds, into adding to and transforming the water within. They grow heavy, and then snow begins to fall, a soft white blanket that provides healing energy wherever it touches. It cannot raise the dead, but it should ensure that anyone else is healed from this battle--in body, at least. Minds are more difficult to heal.

    It's exhausting work, though, doing that without inadvertantly changing weather patterns across the globe. He wavers, clutches his staff. <<Alright, people,>> he says into his comm, though loud enough for the others nearby to hear. <<Return to base. I'll see where Project Gozer's setting up and we'll focus our next efforts on the seal in that neighborhood.>> He wants, very much, to just go back to Grand Central and get some food and tea.

    One last thing, though: he looks to Lady Death and inclines his head. "Thank you," he says. For a lot more than she probably realizes. "I'll keep you informed as to where we move next."

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
Sarah Rainmaker would keep her hands in front of her, holding herslf up mentally at the point of near collapse but focusing herself upright. Locking her gaze at the departing Michael, "Don't lie to my face." Her tone would be flat. "Insult my intelligence all you wish. But don't lie to my face. A young girl collapsed and offered herself up without resistance to save others. Your brethren beat her to death while she didn't resist before you blew up the area." Her tone flat.
    "And she was one who believed in you and had faith. I'd be terrified to see what you would do to.." Michael is gone. Sarah's moment of exultation would fade as adrenaline would fade, and emotional collapse would set in. Sh ewould stumble, throwing up a wind around her back to keep herself upright and to not collapse. She could hold it together for a little longer. At least.. At least until she could find somewhere to be alone. Now.. now there were too many things to do. Too many things.. But.. They had a chance. They had a small chance. Donna was right. They could still reach Caitlin. If Sarah could hold on enough to not break into blubbering once the area was cleaned up.
    Jonathan's emotional support is almost overlooked, so lost is she in her own world. "If the angel leaves enough of it left.." Then they'll save her. As far as Sarah is concerned.. No matter the cost. She would free her friend or die trying. Because she couldn't forgive herself if she didn't try.
    Glancing over at Lady Death for just a moent.. "Do you need help?" She would try to shake away her numbness.

Hope Svelgate has posed:
Lady Death looks in Jon's direction when he thanks her, but doesn't reply. When was the last time she was thanked? Does she even remember what one says in such a circumstance? Instead she just turns away and cuts open a portal. At different points around the battlefield other portals open as well as the Army of the Dead and Damned begins to withdraw again.

Lady Death stops in front of her portal and looks back at Jon and Sarah. "Your friend betrayed you. Betrayed all of you. You'd be better off just accepting that. Ask yourselves, what makes her so worth saving? So worth sacrificing for? More than the rest who are laying dead on the ground?" There is something about her in this moment, the bravado is gone, the words are very real, at least for this moment. "Ask yourselves that." She says and then just before she steps through the portal, she stops and flicks a mote of Energy Arcane that goes flying off through the air.

Even after the portal has closed behind Lady Death, that mote of her power sails on until it lands on the chest of one of the dead bodies and that individual suddenly begins gasping for breath as they return to life.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "They're /all/ worth saving," Jon says softly, watching Lady Death leave. "Every one."

    Before he can say more, respond to Sarah... one of his people is alive again. There's no time to thank Lady Death or stare after her. Instead he runs over, conjuring up a globe of water as he goes. "Get a portal back to Grand Central!" he shouts at a nearby agent. "Now!!" He'll do his best to stabilize the now-living agent until they can get back to base. Later, he can wonder what inspired Lady Death to heal them, bring them back. Whether he agrees with the point she was trying to make.

    Later. Right now? There's a life to save.

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
Sarah Rainmaker is watching at Lady Death, speaking. "No one is lost and its' never too late. She doesn't see herself as having betrayed. She's been made to beleive that it's the truth. When we figure out how to make her understand she's been lied to.. Then we can have her back. And.. Good battle. May your swords be sharp and cleave through your adversary. And may next thime your strikes remind him of how to properly cower."