9647/Path of Glory: Merciful Vengeance

Path of Glory: Merciful Vengeance
Date of Scene:	14 January 2022
Location:	East Harlem
Synopsis:	The Archangel Zadkiel comes across an old associate and a meeting of the minds is had between the Rider of Vengeance and his old jailor.
Cast of Characters:	Michael Demiurgos, Johnny Blaze
Tinyplot:	Path of Glory

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Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    The streets of Manhattan are regularly patrolled by angelic forces but East Harlem for the moment seems relatively unattended. Maybe the angels have scoured it for whatever resource they were looking for, or maybe they just hadn't gotten to it yet. Still the emptiness and quiet of the streets might seem a bit offputting to someone who knows the streets of East Harlem. The distict lack of criminal activity stands starkly against the usual yells of violence, catcalls of sex work, and outbursts of a number of illicit activities usually found here.

    It's a good night for a ride, especially one for a spirit of vengeance on the hunt for let out some aggression for the evening. Tomorrow was supposed to be big, tonight would be a good warm up if he could find any takers for his particular brand of violence.

Johnny Blaze has posed:
Tomorrow was a big night indeed.

And no matter how hard Johnny attempted to resist Zarathos's call to avoid an early retaliation or anything of the sort, Johnny practically felt like his skin was burning without his say-so. So, Johnny puts on his jacket, and walks outside, mounting his bike and roaring that engine to life with enough force to wake a part of the neighborhood.

He cracks his neck.

He rides into the night. He hasn't turned yet, but he was starting to sizzle. Starting to smoke. "Where are you." Blaze whispers under his breath. He was hunting. Maybe there would be an angel. Or maybe just a murderer who got out of the danger zone just to run into the Ghost Rider who knows, but Johnny is ready to pop.

He just needs a target.

Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    There are no angels, but that doesn't mean their agents aren't afoot. After turning a block gunfire zips past Johnny's face. "It's one of them!" calls a gruff sounding man. "Take him out! For the glory of our savior! The gates will open!"

    More bullets, mundane in nature, are fired in the Ghost Rider's direction. Sparks fly up from the pavement and off the bike as their bullets are near misses for their actual target.

    From the crack of the munitions it sounds like rifle fire, but their handlers are either untrained or ony casual enthusiasts at best to keep missing such a formative target as the Rider.

Johnny Blaze has posed:
Johnny kept riding, then-

*FFWWEWW!*

The bullet sails right past his head, only took him out of the game permanently, but Johnny drifts to a stop and hears the sounds of the gruff sounding men. Most likely cultists who fell in line when Michael showed up with the invasion force.

"Perfect."
<Perfect.>

THe two voices of Johnny Blaze and Zarathos chime together as he drives towards the shooters! Bullets ping off of the bike, ping off of some ground in front of it, because they have no clue how to aim it or use it. So, Johnny starts to burn properly, a roar leaves his mouth in both pain and vengeance as his flesh bursts into the flame, disintegrating immediatley to reveal the skull underneath.

"Vengeance is mine!"

The cry of the Ghost Rider is enough to shrivel a man to his bones. Yet, the Rider keeps moving even as his bike becomes the Hell Cycle, a trail of flame following where the Rider rode. Even as a bullet pings off of the handlebar of his bike, he kept driving, and he intends to flat out run one of the gunmen over.

Brutal. Efficient.

THe chain is wielded, flame lining it's edge as he swings it in a circular fashion, whatever it strikes? The heat is amped to such degrees that the lake of fire has competition. The chain will seep through flesh and bone like butter, and hese men will die hearing the Ghost Rider's laughter.

Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    The men die swiftly and brutally; bodies torn to shreds by the flaming chain of the Rider. As the bike slows to allow its rider a moment to survey its work a flash of light appears to one side of the road and suddenly there is an angel there. Not just any angel though. There is an aura of power about this creature that marks it apart from the others.

    He is dressed for battle, a breastplate of silver metal that glows with unearthly light over his tunic and a sword at his side. The glowing halo about his crown burns with a red light as he surveys the surrounding. "Fascinating" the Archangel says in a soft tone that sounds more accustomed to passing out blessings than violence. "To think that my brother would find such an area appealing. Though he could view it as a passion project I suppose."

    The Archangel speaking is not unknown to the Ghost Rider. Zarathos has heard the voice before. It was this creature that has sent the spirit on its path before and likely will again when its work is done. This creature sees the spirit of vengeance as a tool to be used rather than something that deserves freedom and peace.

Johnny Blaze has posed:
Vengeance.

The smell of the charred bodies, the sins consumed by the Ghost Rider....it was as satisfying as achieving a life goal. The sinners have been punished, the vengeful have been avenged, and those who fell to these men may now know peace in the afterlife. Though...The Rider suddenly tenses up.

Not out of fear. Out of raw, unadulterated hatred.

The jailer has arrived. Zarathos wrestles with Johnny in the subconscious. <<Must kill him, MUST!>> Zarathos states to Johnny with ceaseless urging, and Johnny is trying -hard- to keep himself in contorl, to keep the ancient demon in check in Johnny's own kind of cage.

"Jailer."

The Rider whispers in a way that can cause the spine to shiver, bones to crack from the horridness of that dark speech. "We were you passion project once, do you remember?" Zarathos and Johnny's voice mix. Johnny was shown how Zarathos has been chained before. Chained in a different way...an agent of heaven, sent to smite down it's enemies.

No longer.

Zarathos is finally let into control, now that JOhnny has calmed it down enough...a feat many would consider impossible. "You remember me, Archangel." The Ghost Rider hisses out the name. "Zadkiel."

Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    Zadkiel turns to regard the Ghost Rider and his eyes show a sign of recognition. "The angry spirit? Here? How strange?" he says with a measure of surprise. "What purpose do you seek here in a battle ground that holds no revenge or anger in it? Or has this world become so fallow that you are to seek scraps like a vulture?" he asks casually.

    He shakes his head in disappointment. "We gave you shelter at one point, quite true. But being your host was so... tedious," he states and waves a hand dismissively. "And so we left allowing you to go your own way. Instead of seeking the peace of oblivion, you turned your employ to those among the damned." He tilts his head. Such a waste."

    He inclines his head in greeting. "I do remember you, Zarathos. Tell me, will you fight against my brothers and I for the sake of this and all worlds? Even should there be no morsels for your unending hunger in it?"

Johnny Blaze has posed:
The Ghost Rider huffs ember and flame.

"Being attatched to you was a purpose I was to fulfill. We were balance. Archangel and Archdemon working together for the sake of the world, we were justice, bringing mercy in one hand and judgment in the other. Yet you..." Zarathos growls. "You set me free...into the hands of Mephistopheles!" Zarathos calls out. "The damned cry out to be avenged. I will feast on the blood and fears and guilt of those who wronged them, and feast I have and eaten full. I fight against the forces of Heaven, for all the souls you angels have massacred. Do you hear them, Zadkiel?"

He growls. "I will. So I may have -my- vengeance." Just like that, Johnny is switched into control, and both Rider and Johnny speak simultaneously.

"We will protect this world because we must, for the sake of the innocent lives that are threatened to be destroyed by Michael's great host."

Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    The Archangel Zadkiel laughs; a sound that tinkles with bells and could make mortal's ears bleed. "Always speaking of innocents and massacres. Never understanding the true purpose in your position." He shakes his head. "I would think, after all this time, that you would've fifured it out. You are not an instrument of action. You are and always have been a deterrent. You and those with the same power within."

    The Archangel hits on something at that point. "Is your brother also here? The one who was driven mad by his bond? The inefficiency of it boggles the mind. Both of you waste your time scouring the globe and taking the souls to their demise one by one. Why should you not share such wastefulness in this pitiful endeavor as well." He tsks. "You seek -your- vengeance?" He spreads his arms, giving the Ghost Rider and opening. "Will you advance and take it now or bide your time for once and find the right moment? We watched you face Michael's Champion to a draw. If you cannot take a mortal empowered by one of us, what hope do you have to face one of us directly?"

Johnny Blaze has posed:
The Ghost Rider growls, stepping off of the bike and approaches Zadkiel, grabbing some stone on the ground and lifting it upwards to make a stepladder towards the Archangel. It intends to step upwards and upwards until he's face to face with the Archangel who was used to control him. Used as a failsafe. Used.

That word rings in Zarathos's dark mind, that damned -bell- that Zadkiel's voice rings with.

"Killing you....watching you burn in the same fires I did..." Zarathos's voice starts shining through, and despite how hard Johnny tries to pull, Ghost Rider narrows his eyes. He remembers what the other members of the Justice League Dark has shown it. Compassion. Wisdom. Major dysfunctionality. The Rider reaches as if to grip Zadkiel by the throat, but stops just short.

"No." The Rider whispers. "When the Host advances on earth. The host will suffer. Your sin is the result of Michael, and you act on his orders. You will watch your brother be judged, and you will kneel in absolution." Zarathos speaks as if prophecy.

Thoug hon the matter of the champion. "I could kill the champion. Easily. I showed her not even a fraction of the power at my fingertips. The might of the angel pales in comparison to the true strength of the demon. I will consume. I will feast on the fears of the Host. Your only hope against me." Ghost Rider stares Zadkiel in the eyes, tempted to activate the Penance Stare.

"You will help me. You will get out of the way. You will die, right here...right now. The decision is yours to make. You have abandoned your post, Archangel."

Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    Zadkiel smiles at Johnny. At the Ghost Rider. "Good. Good. It seems you can learn restraint when it suits you." He gazes down at the flame covered figure and nods. "I appreciate your use of restraint in this matter, but not out of fear. You still truly underestimate our power, Rider. What makes you think that were I to will it, I couldn't be here, and in the skies approaching this world, while simultaneously guarding my post? Your graspe of location is so finite in comparison."

    He waves a hand dismissively once more. "But you are correct, in one regard. I -am- here to help you. What you and your fellows seek, one of the six, is in this..." he looks around them, "community. Neighborhoods they are called, yes? Take the knowledge I give you to Gaea's Champion, as a reward for your growth. You dismissed his leadership before, I give you a chance to build better the bridge you nearly burned in your haste to justify your strength against one who is not your quarry."

Johnny Blaze has posed:
The Rider growls, and, as if in trust, The Spirit seems to put itself out. The flames of Hell cease to burn, leaving only the visage of the skeleton. Flesh and blood and muscle and sinew and tissue and nerves all regrow in the span of seconds, the process instantaneous as Johnny is once again human - and vulnerable. Though he looks at Zadkiel as he stares at the angel. "We both know restraint when it's necessary. It's just far between." Johnny suggests to the Archangel.

People who can stare an Archangel down and live? Not many. Granted, Zadkiel wasn't looking for a fight, and Johnny forced the Rider into restraint. "No...we are aware. We mean this only in that you are the Archangel of mercy and freedom, yet you ride with Michael in domination." He tells him simply.

"One of the six?" Johnny questions, though he nods. "Wasn't trying to test my strength against your misguided champion. Merely trying to save my friend before she's coerced into butchering the planet she calls home." He defends, even in the face of the Archangel. "I'll talk to Sims about it. It's in this neighborhood...you got it, Zadkiel." He looks at him.

"Lack of leadership." Johnny tells Zadkiel. "But he's the best of what we have." He says in good faith to Zadkiel. "And one day, we'll finish this. But not at the expense of humanity." He offers the Archangel a hand. A deal. For in these matters, trustworthiness stems from equality. and maybe it's Johnny's Christian faith, powerful as it is, that's leading him this far. "Thanks for the help, even though you had no reason to help." He tells him then.

Zarathos is gonna bitch about it later.

Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    Zadkiel regards the hand for a moment before reaching out and taking it. "You're quite welcome, Rider. But you're still mistaken." There is a hint of mischief in his gaze. "We do ride, this much is true. But what indication do you have that makes you think we ride with Michael?" There is a clap of thunder and Johnny is left alone in the block with the judged dead not far from his feet.