Owner	Pose
Marc Spector	Jon's portal opens up on a barren plain before a rusted out shack of a building in the middle of the desert. The sun has gone down and with it comes the relative chill of a dry evening. The recon of 'an unnamed individual' had alerted him to the location where the last two surviving members of Alhambras had fled. It seems that they were being given asylum by the Juarez Cartel (though the red and black coloring of the missive left little mystery around who had done the recon).     The building looked like it had once been some sort of chop shop, but had been completely gutted in the intervening years since its production days. THe massive generator outside that rumbled, the large number of cars, trucks, and bikes, and the lights inside are plenty of evidence that there are people inside.     Just how many? Well, that would need to be discovered.
Jonathan Sims	The portal Jon opens is about the size of a door, high and wide enough for one person to go through at a time. He brings up the rear, and looks around over the desert with a frown.     "Well... this is the place. The plan is to go in and make sure these people drop their vendetta against Cael. I'd prefer to avoid killing anyone if possible. No magic that I can see, so..." He glances around at the others. He's wearing jeans and a green button-up that masks his glowing arm, maybe to camoflague it a bit. He did bring his staff, but it's collapsed on his waist.
Lydia Dietrich	When Lydia learned about the direct action that was taken against the Alhambras, there was a lot of scowling and disapproving looks. This time she insisted that she come with, not that she'd be able to keep things from turning deadly, but as something as a visible deterrent. She /is/ a scary mutant witch vampire after all.     "Hopefully I can be intimidating enough that they won't want to start something," Lydia says as she steps through the portal after Jon. "I've been practicing my menacing scowl. I think I've gotten rather good at it."     Indeed, tonight she's dressed to be as intimidating as she can. Her ectoplasmic field has been turned black, she's dressed in all black like any good villain should and she has her trenchcloak slung around her shoulders. She even put heels on to add a precious few inches to her height.
Charlie Gage	Charlie uses Jon's portal, it is way more subtle on the mystic radar than her own, slinking along after him and the others before looking around. "Wow... this place is dry.. like... I can feel my lips wanting to chap immediately...." which well compared to her Gotham stomping grounds where it seems perputually drizzling it would seem dry as heck.     She is wearing her usual magic stomping around gear. Dark jeans, a dark navy blue hoodie with a wonder woman logo on it, stompy combat boots. She is wearing her utility belt under the hoodie, and under it all is a tight weave under armor she usually has under her batgear. Her goggles are pushed up onto her forehead and her gloves tucked into her belt for now.     "So we going grrr knock it off right off the bat.... or some punching then growling at them once they are variously mauled and disarmed?"
Gabby Kinney	Gabby Kinney hadn't been in on the main action if only because she was busy with other things at the time. Tabs had been kept though, and now that they were following up with the remnants of the Alhambra in an attempt to ensure they don't try to retaliate again, she's free and able to join in. Her own attire is almost ninja-like in it's simplicity. Bodyarmor, black suit, and her old face mask: A stark white mask with blood red lips and a bandage on the cheek. It looked like some modern version of a Kabuki mask. "It's too bad Rien isn't here on this one. If they're superstitious at all having a witch around would rock their socks off. Or a sorceress," she's quick to correct. Rien wasn't really a WITCH after all. "I say we probably need to get in there quick and disarm them before they can retaliate."
Terry O'Neil	Is that a poncho? Yep. That's a poncho. And boots. And a hat. And chaps. Fortunately, Vorpal is wearing something under the chaps: jeans. But the resulting ensemble is very much precious. "We don't need no witches-" Vorpal says in a low and gravelly voice, "When we've got kittens." Pause. "Okay, so that didn't rhyme. But if you want scary, I've got you covered, Gabster." His costume dissolves and suddenly he is a skeleton cat, walking around in the threadbare remnants of old, moldy clothes. "They won't know what hit 'em. So I'll be glad to bring in the terror if you guys bring in the brimstone..." He returns to his normal self. For a certain value of 'normal', that is. "But a little wordplay to preface it should drive the point home, don't you think?" he glances at the rest of the team.
Marc Spector	One of the windows of the building darkens suddenly before most of the lights go out inside the building. Following this darkening a flurry of motion sounds as if a bunch of people inside started moving at once. It seems that the arrival of the five was not entirely unnoticed. It would make sense that there was external surveilance on the place, especially if it was a safe house for one of the largest drug cartels in the Americas.     After the commotion, all is silent within. Even the generator's rumble dies down to a low murmur--perhaps only enough to keep the lights on inside.
Jonathan Sims	Jon nods aside to Terry. "That's what I thought, too. Menacing scowls and 'grr knock it off' are probably the best way to go. If we /need/ to knock heads together to make the point, well..." He shrugs. He looks grimly resigned. He doesn't /want/ to be here, really, but it's the last bit of dangling thread from Cael's past, so here they are.     They square their shoulders. "Well. Let's get in there. Charlie, Terry, can you make sure we /can/ get in regardless of any locks?"
Lydia Dietrich	Lydia scowls (it's menacing! Really!) when the lights go dark. "I think they noticed us," she says. As they walk towards the chopshop she looks over at Jon. "Maybe it'll be better if I just rip the door off the hinges if they don't let us in? Or do you think that'd be to aggressive?"     She has to admit it. There's some part of her that /wants/ to rip the door off and go all grr growl. Really lean into the big bad vampire trope. It could be fun!
Charlie Gage	"Whoomp Whoomp.. they know we are here yeah Lyds..." she mutters quietly to herself.     Charlie reaches up and tugs her goggles down, they have a very very dim glow as the internal HUD fires up. Then she reaches down under her hoodie into a large pouch and pulls out a small black box with the footprint of a credit card, she flips it into the air and tiny rotors pop out as it unfolds itself into a small drone and zips off fast towards the building, giving her a birds eye view of it all, including any back exits now.     Finally she pulls her weighted gloves on, they are are a batgirl yellow so probably the brightest part of her costume, she tap taps her knuckles together and the spell work, in subtle threading, springs to life all over the gloves before settling invisible once more.     The suit up done she whirls her hands bending them into a new configuration despite the gloves, though the sparks and embroidered magical writing flares up once more as she pulls a gate open as the orange arcane portal opens "I'm doing this to the backdoor.... figure we blow it and enter in chaos instead of portal right inside since we don't have a view yet on the inside?" and indeed there is a view of the of the house and door right there.
Gabby Kinney	Gabby Kinney glances over toward Terry as he goes through his many possible options of appearance at her mention of spooky. A grin comes in response to the skeletal cat with a quick nod. "Okay that one would rule for spooking them," she has to admit, only for her eyes to snap back toward the quickly darkening building. "Looks like it's go time." Reaching up she tugs her mask in place leaving her looking like a pale white ghostly figure with dark black hair. Maybe they were fans of The Ring and it would work in her favor. Either way it helps to disguise her identity while she ducks lower to hopefully avoid whatever might come next. "I'm with Lydia on that one. I don't think we're gonna manage sneaking."
Terry O'Neil	"Between the two of us, doors and locks should be no problem," Vorpal grins and winks at Charlie, and then he looks at the building. "Five guests and they turn out the lights like that? How /thoroughly/ rude. I expect they will be ready to go pew pew the moment we step in. Guns. How /classless/." And then he gets a wicked grin. "Is there any particular reason why I can't just... open a Rabbit Hole into outer space inside and just suck them all out into the vacuum? Asking for a friend." These were killers. Vorpal was very much of Chaotic Good alignment, and sometimes people just needed... to be sucked into outer space, okay? For their own good. And everybody else's. "Well, let's blast in, then," the Cheshire says, and promptly vanishes from view, going in invisible. He can work terrifying illusions better that way if nobody knows he's there.
Marc Spector	However the heroes get in, what the find is a pretty formidable. There are a great number of people against one of the walls. Men and women, and fromt he look a number of mutants as well. There are also a great number of gunmen. Most of the guns projected forward are military grade rifles and heavy pistols. Five men and one woman stand behind the wall of guns. One is wearing a business suit and looks relaxed a woman clinging to his side seems to have his ear. Her eyes glow with purple psionic light.     Two other men seem haunted with dark circles under their eyes and a wasted, nervous appearance to their rumpled suits.     The last two men are hulking figures whose bodies gleam with the look of metal. Anyone familiar with the X men would recognize the same mutation present on Colossus. They flank the quartet in the middle like statues, clearly bodyguards for the lead man.     All the guns seem trained on the quintet of heroes that enter, even if they come from opposite sides, but not a single shot is fired. "We've been expecting you" says the besuited man calmly, a thick Latin accent coming out with this words. "You're here for these two, eh?" he says gesturing to the two haunted men. "That's where we 'ave problems. See, they're under our protection. And if just hand them over to be slaughtered like -vaca- like their -hombres- it makes us look bad. Like we can't take care of our own property... and that's bad for business."
Jonathan Sims	Jon walks on into the place through the portal Charlie opens, holding his breath until he's through the portal so he won't breath in any of the Chaos magic. Look, it's a serious worry for him! He glances around at the others still visible, all in deliberately chosen outfits, then shrugs and sticks his hands in his pockets as he eyes the men with guns, affecting unconcern. He eyes the woman with the glowing eyes specifically and for just a moment the circlet of Ma'at appears on his brow as he delivers a mental backhand in response to the psionic fingers prodding at his mind.     "Please don't do that again," he says in a droll tone. "This can be a civil conversation if we all play nicely."     He sighs. "Personally, I'd just like to ensure that nobody else decides to come after my girlfriend. I had my need for revenge satisfied when I killed Javier Hernandez. But my friends, well... they haven't had a chance to sink their teeth into anyone. Literally or metaphorically."
Lydia Dietrich	Lydia draws herself up to her not-quite-so-considerable height to try to be as imposing as she can. The black stars of her ectoplasm circle about her agitatedly as she glares at everybody who has a gun trained on her, as if trying to will them to put their guns down by staring at them alone.     Her eyes flick over to Jon and takes her queue, smiling wide enough to show off her fangs. Big scary vampire here, and she finds you all tasty! RAWR!
Gabby Kinney	With a portal inside made there's no reason for Gabby to stand around outside. Jon goes first of course, and a few others, but then she steps through to join them. Moving to one side she takes up position there not saying anything. Not showing fang. Of course she just had that odd doll-ish mask on. All she does is let her head drop to the side down to her shoulder looking at them as if her spine had just broken. And she continues to stare while Lydia flashes fangs.
Charlie Gage	That was an old fashioned normal magic portal, thankfully for Jon, only slightly tinged with chaos, unlike her personal 'bounces'.     She holds said portal open until everyone can get through it and the blown in backdoor, and by blown in, the one that was disinigrated when the portal came into being intersecting it. Hopefully no one was leaning against it looking out a peephole right. "Shoot, they were ready for either door.. I guess that tracks.." it's a frustrated mutter mostly to herself, due to her incapability of being able to stop talking right.     Louder next. "Look we are being reasonable, he wanted a convo, some of us wanted to just suck you all into orbit or the bottom of the ocean and call it a day. I recommend talking. Fast too, I am totes missing Adventure Squad Spy's new episode drop right now and lemme tell you.. very little patience."
Terry O'Neil	" Madre mia," the voice echoes out of nowhere, " Would you look at those two?" It appears that a hole opens on the ground of the building, and out of that hole there crawls a skeleton. A skeleton that looks like a cross between human and upright cat. It is exquisitely appointed, however- a suit of deepest purple with skeleton embroidery in burgundy red along the cuffs, and the lapels of the suit are embroidered in a variation of the Tree of Life motif. The Skelli-cat grins, because it can do nothing else, pinpricks of purple light blazing in the sockets of its skull. The skeleton makes a flamboyant gesture towards the two metallic men flanking the quartet " I know just what the doctor ordered: two of /them/ every twenty-four hours! Maybe if I had tried that, I wouldn't have died!" The ghoulish apparition lets out a cackle that echoes through the warehouse like the crack of a whip, and then he readjusts his suit jacket, which is draped plainly over his bony ribcage. " What my mortal companions wish to indicate is that, should there be any lack of cooperation from certain parties, I may be forced to summon la jefa to settle things. And she dislikes being summoned from..." A finger points down. "You-know-where."
Marc Spector	The woman plastered to the lead man jerks and the light in her eyes fades to reveal amber-brown orbs. She reaches a hand to her mouth as if she was literally smacked by Jon and her eyes narrow before she whispers something to the man in the suit.     Lydia's display of fangs causes a few of the gunmen to stir and one drops his pistol (luckily it doesn't fire) before he scrambles to pick it up nervously swallowing in the process. Gabby is given a number of puzzled looks as well, the black of her hair and the doll-like mask adding to the disquiet of the group.     The leading man is about to comment to Charlie's admonishon for expedience when Terry makes his entrance. The display as well as the words earn a slow, nervous swallow from the lead gangman and a slow exhale marks the slow recollection of his composure. "The Mason girl--" he waves a hand. "Or... Becker or whatever she's calling herself. Yeah we looked into it." He glares at the two men. "Would I less of a businessman I'd toss these -cabrones- a you feet and let you tear them to shreds or whatever you want to do."     This earns him a shocked look and one of the men raises his voice with a cry of objection in Spanish before one of the mammoth men place a hand on his shoulder. He shuts up immediately and wide eyes turn to a hand that could likely encompass his skull with room to spare. The lead man sighs as if tired or bored or both. "But... like I said, they're under protection from someone higher in the food chain that me. Look, your posse all but obliterated Alhambras with the stunt at their compound. The Cartel would like to keep operating without interuption from you people so we're at an impass, you want these two and they're under our protection... but at the same time I don't need your people on the Cartel's neck. We got enough trouble as is with -el Presidente's- agents on our asses." He sighs. "Words alone won't cut it. They drew blood... but at the same time I like to stay in one piece and with all my blood inside me," he frowns and looks at Jon and the others. "So how we gonna do this?"
Jonathan Sims	Jon hesitates for a moment. "Well," he says slowly, and looks around at the others. "/Would/ you be satisfied with a truce?" This isn't entirely a question for show. Cael matters to people besides him, and maybe they want revenge. Maybe there's some kind of knee-jerk need for retribution in vampire or Chaos or Kinney circles.     He sighs, and looks to the lead man. "Because... you could pull them forward and I could take their statements and judge them right here. Or we could toss them to my friends. Or we could work something out whereby everyone keeps to their own bloody turf." A pause. "I... /will/ suggest that, perhaps, in the future you not..."     Suddenly he just loses his composure and /glares/ at the two men under 'protection.' "Didn't any of you /think things through/? Did you /really/ think you could just up and send out a hit on someone who runs with the Avengers and a branch of the Justice League and nobody would /care/?" He pulls out hand out of his pocket and gestures vaguely. "You saw her on the news after we saved the world from a bloody /angelic invasion/! We /healed/ her after she died! Didn't that /occur/ to you?!"     He runs a hand through his hair and huffs out an irritated breath. "Fuck! Gods save me from /idiots/!"
Lydia Dietrich	"I think the point has been made," Lydia says in response to Jon's question. "As much as I /like/ blood, there doesn't need to be any more bloodshed, unless we're pushed to it." She turns her strange golden eyes to the two harried looking gang members. "Still. They must answer for their participation."     When Jon loses his shit she puts a hand on his shoulder, whether to calm him or hold him back is up to interpretation. "I suggest that you let him take their statements. They will be judged fairly."
Gabby Kinney	"Blood oath." The phrase comes from Gabby where she stands. Given the lack of moving parts on the mask it might seem eerie, as well as the odd echo that comes from speaking behind the mask. As the 'suggestion' is made she lifts a hand which bears a knife--Wait. No. That wasn't a knife--It came from out the back of her fist. A single long claw which glowed with a pale light all the brighter against the darkness of her suit. "If it's broken, they're ours." Her other hand lifts with pinky finger extended and she makes a little slicing motion in the air to indicate precisely what she meant by 'blood oath' and how to make it. "I think that would do."
Charlie Gage	Charlie just looks impatient. She has cartoons to watch. Fine quality anime. These gangsters are keeping her from them. Her arms cross and she just glares a bit behind her goggles as she lets the others do the talking for the most part.     "Well.. I mean... I'd love to know who is a bigger fish than the whole crime family running these parts that is willing to throw around meta or mutant muscle to protect a couple of jerkface idiots... that is just me tho."
Terry O'Neil	The skeleton cat grins again and strums a guitar that materializes out of thin air. His voice, like the wind howling through the trees, intones: ~ Our friend the vampire has the gist: This sacred oath, we must insist be taken, justice's claim on those she owns or else Llorona shall use your bones to grind your souls to dust, and be dispersed by infernal gust.~ There is a faint, far-off scream, a raw contralto that makes the walls tremble, and then is gone. " She approves."
Marc Spector	The lead man listens to more whsipers from the woman at his side. He nods and looks at the gathering. "I am willing to keep to my turf, like I said, business here is fine." He looks to the two Alhambras for a moment before he looks back to Jon. "What will this statement do to them?" he asks, drawing another wave of protests from the man who spoke up before. There is a crunching sound and his outbursts turn to sobs of pain as his collar bone snaps under the squeeze from the beheamoth behind him. He crumbles to the ground craddling his arm.     The lead man shakes his head in disgust and looks to Gabby and Terry. "I don't know that I want to get into a blood oath with people across the country. I don't need a war across the country. We have enough trouble keeping turf from The Crips and Lokotes and if you guys kill some banger from the Trinatarios or the Bloods we'd be drawn in. I'd have to pass on that."     His eyes fall on Charlie. "I'm a messenger, girl. PR. A mouthpiece for people with far too much more responsibility on their plates to handle protecting a couple of -pedazos de basura- like these."
Jonathan Sims	"This is just so bloody /stupid/," Jon grumbles to Lydia. "This kind of /bullshit/ is the precise reason I asked people not to go after Michael when I turned myself over to him. Retribution just leads to a cycle of pain."     He heaves a sigh, trying to pull himself together. "Alright, so... let me get this straight. These two escaped the destruction of their base and ran to you for protection because your group owns this territory. You're obligated to protect them, but they're not important enough for your actual bosses to get involved."     He eyes the man whose collarbone was just snapped. "So. What I was /trying/ to say before was, these people were /stupid/ enough to authorize a hit on a member of the Justice League Dark and agent of SHIELD, within /our/ territory. That's bad for business. It seems to me that it'd be best to cut your losses and give notice to anyone else who might be thinking of making trouble that you don't really want that kind of attention."     A pause. "A statement means that I pull the truth out of them, of what they've done, and the goddess I serve--Ma'at, the Egyptian goddess of Justice--judges their souls. If they deserve to live, they live. If they deserve to die, they get a chance to change. If they don't take it..."     He shrugs, and gestures to the others. "Lydia here is awfully hungry. And I'm certain La Llorona would appreciate an extra soul or two. Or perhaps I kill them myself. We'd have to see."
Gabby Kinney	Gabby Kinney clucks her tongue a single time at the response. It's taken in stride though as she straightens where she stands. At least everything straightens on her but her head which lifts to flop to the other shoulder now continuing her staring once more. The claw slips away once again and she listens to the explanation while just... being creepy. And perhaps mumbling, "Nice one, Ter," to the rhymer.
Charlie Gage	Charlie for one is a bit fascinated at the whole concept of Egyptian Goddesses judging people, enough so that she is quiet when Jon sort of lays it all out to them.     She keeps half an eye on her drone above the place to make sure they aren't being flanked or anything nefarious. These are bad dudes after all and bad gal, not to be sexist or anything.     "I'm still just amazed anyone would protect some peeps this dumb I guess..."
Terry O'Neil	"It just occured to me," The skeletal cat says, "that you are in an unenviable position." The cat's bony toes rise from the floor as he begins to levitate, arms spread to the sides in a grotesque imitation of religious iconography. "We came here for those two /escuincles/, which is an /acceptable/ outcome. However it dawns that all of you are now making a very *compelling* target." There is the sound of bone cracking, and the skull's grin widens- impossibly, "For you see, did you not say you are but a messenger? An envoy? A spokesman? Why, as my colleague here so aptly observed, ones who would bother to gather such forces as these as their mere messengers? They must, indeed, be a /major problem." The cat skeleton comes to a stop in midair and and then leans back, leg crossed over a bony knee, hands behind its back. "These mortals defeated El Arcangel Miguel and his forces. They painted New York with the blood of Seraphim. And you think /you/ pinche pendejos would pose a threat? They shall make mincemeat of most of you, and keep... you!" the 'messenger' gets a pointed finger, "And hand you over to my mistress until she tears every name and every contact of your superiors from your soul." And there, in an instant, a few feet from the quartet, a woman appears. She is an impossibly gaunt and tall figure, draped in transluscent red veils. Her eyes are pools of blood that leak rivulets down her form, and her mouth is an open, gaping oval of darkness. Her scream is almost percussive, sound waves that seep into flesh and bone, there's some infra sound as well. But what's worse is the /stench/, the smell of corpse flower and mold and decay that hits like a wave a second later. And then she's gone. It lasted less than a second. "It's /hard/ to hold her back," the cat says, glancing at the man. "She does /so/ hate the Patriarchy."
Marc Spector	The majority of the gunline breaks, panicked shouts and calls for salvation come at the sight of La Llarona before them. Guns are dropped and they scatter out. Doors, windows, anything to get from the woman of their nightmartes. What's left is probably less than half the assault force from before.     The quintet remain though the lead man and his woman have stepped back and the hulking men have stepped forward as a shield against any direct attack. The remaining Alhabras who was on his feet is no longer on those feet. He's dropped and appears to be paying for forgiveness in a hushed tone.     It takes a moment but control is again collected and the man leans down to listen to the woman at his side as she leans up to whisper in his ear. He pauses for a moment anods.     Then he smirks at Charlie. "I agree. It is stupid and they are all but worthless to our cause in the end. But we have an obligation... unfortunate as it may be to see that they are either integrated or the crisis stops with them." He opens up his coat and shows a gun in a shoulder holster.     "Trust me when I say I'd like to dispose of them myself but there's no guarantee that you lot would be satisfied with that." He closes the coat one more and looks to Jon and Lydia. "If you judge them and do whatever it is you do... regardless of the outcome... it ends there?" he asks, his eyes flicking to Gabby for a moment as her claw slips in and out with a soft whisper of bone. "No more retaliation... from any of you over what they did? We go out separate ways and you handle the East Coast while we deal with what we do here in the west."     He shrugs a shoulder. "I think my boss can live with that as long as it's binding and kept that way."
Jonathan Sims	Jon watches the men scatter with a raised eyebrow and a vague smirk. It's entirely possible, he knows, that La Llorona is a real thing; they'll have to double-check and make sure she doesn't wind up angry for Terry using her visage. But for now he just says, "That seems equitable. So long as you stay off our radar, of course. But I doubt you're trucking with demons or evil ghosts or anything else of a supernatural nature." He eyes the windows people fled through, still looking amused. "You don't seem to have the... stamina for it."     The gaze he turns on the Alhambras, though, is... /hungry/. "Cael isn't here because she's put this behind her. As long as there's no further threat to my family, I will be satisfied with the statements of these two, and their subsequent judgement. It can end here." Oh, yeah, it's been a while since the Archivist got a live statement. Two at once is like a buffet.
Gabby Kinney	Gabby Kinney simply spreads her hands wide open showing she had no weapons on her, nor claws extended. Instead she lilts her doll-faced gaze toward Jon apparently taking what he decides as the final decision in this matter. Nevermind the fact that she had to lock her joints rigid when La Llorona showed up to keep from jumping herself. She's just patiently waiting and offering support this time. Not moral support obviously otherwise there'd be issues with the whole morality of this situation. Just support.
Charlie Gage	"See... this wasn't so hard." she smirks a bit.     Terry's whole display is pretty impressive, even if she thinks it is all illusion spells and doesn't have real bite. She really doesn't get the extent Terry can mess with reality with his chaos magic, not yet.     She glances at the HUD time in the corner of her goggles. "Also.. you need better help. They are really skedadling out of here..."
Terry O'Neil	The skeletal cat tilts his head to the side, as if listening to something. There is a disturbing cascading of sobs, barely audible to the human ear. This goes on for a few seconds, before the cat nods. "This is is acceptable. But la jefa- she warns you that from this point on, for every woman whose sons are taken by you, there is a price of a hundred years with her at the end of your days. She watches from every crossroad and from the eyes of every childless mother and motherless child." The figure begins to vanish. "Let the agreement stand. I shall be watching." and then the illusion vanishes, Vorpal remaining hidden in his invisibility for the rest of the proceedings unless it is time to up the levels to Pants To Be Darkened again. Hey, Gabby wanted spooky.
Marc Spector	The woman leans up once more to whisper in the man's ear he nods. "Alright. Fair enough... we will let you judge these two and whatever happens, happens. We go our separate ways then." The uninjured Alhambras rises and tries to run.     The woman peels away from the spokesman. Her eyes flare with psionic light and fall on the fleeing man. He slows and comes to a stop. Her head tilts slightly and he turns, his movements jerky and rigid, as he walks back to where he was kneeling before and drops to his knees once more. She sighs and turns to regard the group before stepping forward past the body guards.     "I apologize for his refusal to comply..." her voice is thick and sultry with her own accent much thicker than the spokesman. It also carries with it authority that is simply innate rather than put on. "I agree to your terms. We will depart from here and you can do... whatever it is you wish to do. We'll come for them when you are done and you will not hear from us or our organization directly again." She extends a hand toward Jon. "Deal?"
Jonathan Sims	Jon grins at Charlie briefly and nods his agreement. He takes a breath of vague relief after the illusion disappears. Damn, that's disconcerting.     Then the woman does her 'turn the guy into a puppet' thing and he quirks a brow. "So you're in charge, hmm? Pass on the word to whomever else you know: don't try to punch above your weight class. Heaven forbid you go after one of the /Gotham/ people. Can you imagine what Batman would have done?" He shakes his head, but then goes to shake her hand. His right hand, of course, glows emerald green and feels much like smooth glass to touch. It might be disconcerting.     Then he turns to the two kneeling Alhambras and, rather courteously, lifts that green hand and wraps it in warm light, making sure to keep it well away from Lydia. He plays the light over the broken collarbone of the second man, mending the damage and healing the pain. "Cael doesn't want them tortured," he says in quiet explanation. "And we're here for her, after all."     Then they straighten themself, and the circlet of Ma'at appears on their brow again, multicolored wings flaring from their back. They pull a microcasette recorder from their pocket and clicks it on. "Joint statement of the two remaining members of the leadership of the Alhambras, regarding the course of their lives that led to the destruction of their organization. They will give their names when they speak."     They focus on the man they just healed, and nod. "Statement begins." There's a wave of telepathic compulsion that hits the man, almost forcing him to speak.
Charlie Gage	Charlie sticks her tongue out in a blep for a moment there when Jon does his thing. "Bleh" is all she says after the moment of blep.     She is clearly less than impressed with the whole giving statement and all that, despite the potential of someone having their life or soul or something judged. She just shakes her head rapidly for a moment then steps further back out the disinigrated doorway she opened a portal in earlier.
Marc Spector	he woman shakes with Jon and nods to the Archivist, though there is a tightness in her eyes. She understands that the heroes of the East Coast are a threat and that is why she is willing to leave these two men without forcing too much of a confrontation. Better for the business, better for their lives.     She turns and stops at the door, the two bodyguards and the spokesman walking around her like a living shield. The state of the Archivist's judgement forces her to blink as the psychic assault that is generated when Jon draws up the power is significant even if she can't feel the magic beind it all. She shudders and hugs herself a moment before turning and leaving the building, she'd rather not watch the two men die if it comes to it.     The men's statement is one of joint bloodhsed and exploitation. They're not good men. They're heartless, cruel, and greedy... always hungering for more power or more money or more excess. It's clear by the third minute that these men do not deserve to live past this moment. Their hearts are too heavy with the weight of their sins and their lack of remorse for what they've done beyond the punishment they are receiving is enough to make them as career men.
Jonathan Sims	The look in Jon's eyes as he takes the statements might almost be disturbing. Like he's /enjoying/ hearing all the poured-out confessions of cruelty and violence. Like it's a delicious meal. When it's done he almost looks... sated. He certainly looks less frazzled than he's been.     He takes a moment, with each man, to take the feather of Ma'at off his circlet and brush it across their eyes, to /show/ them what they've done in their lives, the pain they've given others. To give them another chance. Both men reject it, and Jon sighs.     "Don't know why I bother, really. I suppose some day one of you will wise up."     He considers them for a long moment, particularly the man he healed. Raises one hand, like he's going to reach out and do... something. Then he shakes his head and turns away. He can't do it. He just... can't. Even if they deserve it.     "Send them away," he says, expression disgusted. "I don't care where, just... not here. Somewhere deadly. They had their chance." He flexes his hand and shakes his head. If he doesn't know what happened to them, he can say that to Cael, truthfully, and maybe she won't have to know.
Terry O'Neil	And the skeletal cat is back, manifesting out of thin air as the screaming of La Llorona suddenly whips up in a frenzy, multiplied to sound like the hounds of hell coming for them. ~Justice at last, justice divine the wrath of hell to dispense with is mine, None shall mourn as you pass from this land ending your days in an empire of sand! The Rabbit Hole opens under the two men, who scream as they fall several feet in the air to the blazing sands below. It is approximately two p.m. in the Gobi Desert. Things are starting to get /hot/. And then the skeletal cat vanishes from view once more.
Charlie Gage	Welp. Charlie makes a shocked pikachu face when the judgement is pronounced and then Terry goes all out with his rabbit hole to send these two bad men, into what looked like the Gobi Desert. Well some sort of Desert.     "Um... so... I know they are .. well they suck... did we just dump them somewhere they are going to be dying real slow and painful like instead of prison or jail or something...?"
Jonathan Sims	"They'll die of dehydration in a couple of days, probably," Jon says, quite bluntly. "It's not a pleasant way to go."     After a moment, he adds, "Men like that have two fates in prison: they die, or they gain more power. They had a chance. They did not take it. Trust me, the direct punishment of the gods would have been /worse/. And my way might have been kinder--but I couldn't directly kill a man I'd just /healed/."     He shakes his head, and opens a portal in the wall, that leads back to New York. "Come on," he says, grimly. "We're done here."
Terry O'Neil	==============An Hour Later================= The desert is ruthless. It doesn't give you back: once you succumb to it, it buries you. And then, somewhere down the line, someone might unearth your bones and wonder what you were all about. The desert is the embodiment of history itself. And history is about to be made, soon, as the two men who are walking across the desert, drenched in their own sweat, fear. They still have a few hours left in them, but they can already hear the call of the desert. Surrender. Come to me. It is hard to resist. And soon, there will be no way to resist. They are all alone, abandoned. Except they're not. The Rabbit Hole blasts cold air into the desert, and the Titan known as Vorpal glares at the two men from his elevated position, looking down at them. "I am taking you to a place that is /worse/ than this," he says, not letting them speak. "And I expect you to serve your sentence. If you motherfuckers escape, I'll /know/. And I /will/ come for you." And that's when the Rabbit Hole rushes forward and engulfs them. Welcome to Arkham Asylum, boys.