Owner Pose
Caitlin Fairchild Manhattan's a big city and even for angels, flying around is a challenge. Too many tight corners and big buildings. Sometimes that means a dismounted patrol, short flights up and down building walls but never over the street.

Caitlin stops and looks at a broken window with a mournful expression. Predictably, looting started the minute the evacuation order was given. Vehicles are hastily parked and there is street trash piling up near the houses where people won't depart the area.

Caitlin brings up a readout on her HUD, her contact lenses flickering with little motes of light that project right on her optic nerve. "I've got some heat signatures and power consumption in that building," she tells the angels near here, and points at it. "Twelfth floor, looks like the rooms... uh, four doors on the right from that window there." She points at one near a balcony. "-No- fatalities, and keep the property damage to a minimum," she reminds them. The angels-- graceful and terrible, yet silent-- give her a nod of understanding and take flight. From Caitlin's perspective, their features are growing colder and more ashen by the day. Like there's less and less of the divine shining through the way she'd expect.

The brawny redhead pauses in the middle of the street, staring into empty space and messing with a controller on her armored left vambrace. A drone buzzes past her, takes a few moments to zero in on her face, and then leaps skywards once more to resume looking for potential resistance in the immediate area.
Johnny Blaze 'BEEP BEEP BEEP!'

The drone almost immediately starts going off, something's coming. A few of the reconnaissance angels have been taken down and they have no signals on their person any further. Are they....dead? That is a distinct possibility, though even still, something in Caitlin's angelic aura may feel something....terrible.

Something wicked this way comes.

Dressed in black leather, with some black iron plating around his wrists, shins, and chest, Johnny Blaze approaches, kicking through some glass of a largely shattered building from the first incursion. With a frown, Johnny sees the woman he had remembered once before, and with a frown, he looks ever onwards.

"Caitlin!"

His voice rings across the street, hoping to reach her, hoping to be heard by her. This is what happens when the world is coming to an end. Supposedly. But there Johnny was, a loose chain of black iron held in his hand, ready to be used.

"We need to talk!"
Caitlin Fairchild Caitlin whips her head around to face Johnny, staring at him in disbelief. She looks altogether different than the last time he saw her; she wears hoplite-style armor that's been heavily reinforced with more metal and a chinguard built into an oversized left pauldron. A small pack and a loaded utility belt look to contain a lot of specialized equipment. The tumbling mass of curly red hair has been combed down, braided, and twisted into a fighting knot at the base of her head.

"... Was that really necessary?" She gestures at the broken glass on the ground. "That's vandalism. Like, /petty/ vandalism, but it's still against the law," she points out.

Caitlin reaches behind her, unhooks the head of her maul from the armor, and swings it to the side. It's set carefully on the ground, head first, and the shoulder-level butt of the handle becomes a resting point for Caitlin's hand.

"What do you want, uh..." she stares at him for a second. "Johnny, right?"
Johnny Blaze Johnny snorts. "Yeah, it really was. Because look around." He outstretches his arms to the surrounding area. To the surrounding damages from the first wave. To the people who fought back still leftover...the ones who didn't make it. Then his arms lower. "Faith is our best weapon, Caitlin...but Michael doesn't represent the Presence...God...he doesn't represent him here. He's a one-winged angel whose sore that humanity isn't what -he- wants it to be."

He frowns. "He's using you, Caitlin. and you're falling for it, hook, line, and sinker." Johnny looks Caitlin in the eyes then. "As far as I'm concerned, if this is what following the law looks like." He gestures again with his arms. "I'd rather be an outlaw." Johnny tells her, her drawing of the maul is proof enough for him.

"So I'm giving you a chance, Caitlin. Go home, put down the hammer, and go home to your friends and people that care about you. Because there can be no judgment when saints and sinners are both paying when its not time."
Caitlin Fairchild "Uh--" Caitlin scratches her nose, looking befuddled, and wipes her brow against a thin leather band on her wrist. "Hey I understand collateral damage," she tells Johnny. "I'm just saying, there's a door, like--" she points. "Right there."

"Anyway, if anyone's giving you a chance, it's me," Caitlin tells Johnny. "I don't wanna fight you if I can help it. You're pushing back on the wrong people. If anyone should be giving you major bad guy vibes, it's Sims and his friends."

She gives him a concerned, perplexed look. "I mean when you're on the field face to face with a bunch of undead and demons... at some point you gotta ask yourself what could justify throwing in with a bunch of monsters."
Johnny Blaze Johnny doesn't seem to rest on the whole 'door' thing, though Johnny keeps his attention on Caitlin. "Sims and co. isn't trying to end the damn world." Johnny tells Caitlin. "You realize that Michael is trying to wipe mankind off the face of the map, right? And big shocker, you're human." Johnny tells her then, pleading with her.

"Don't make me do this, Caitlin."

Though she tells him that when she's on the field with monsters and demons, you gotta ask yourself what could justify throwing in with a bunch of monsters. "In order to save the innocent and unleash vengeance on the guilty, I'd pay any price." Johnny cracks his neck as he takes his chain into both hands, raising his eyes to look at Caitlin.

"Don't make me do this." He repeats to her, even as fire starts to dance in his eyes, and he starts to shake his head as his skin starts to sizzle and burn, until his head, hands, and really anywhere Caitlin can spot skin starts to catch on fire in a burst of flame, and with a scream of pain mixed with rage, Johnny's flesh completely dissipates, with only a pale skull wreathed in hellfire remaining, the chain in the creature's gloved hands becoming alit with some kind of ethereal flame as he starts to whip both ends of the chain against the ground.

Makes one wonder how the hell he was able to get into a church.
Caitlin Fairchild Caitlin yelps. Immolation is not something she was prepared for. But her startled reflex is brief surprise and not blind, screaming panic. She checks her instinctual retreat to the heat and flames and plants a foot behind her for balance.

"Well, if that's how you feel about it," she mutters. The helmet at the small of her back is dropped onto her head, the brim creating a hard, angry brow over her shaded green eyes. Blue light crackles and flashes around her and resolves itself into a second set of armor, panels of hard light contoured to her body with a few millimeters of standoff from the steel under them.

"When you get out of the coma, I'm gonna have some questions about how come you can walk around inside a Church," she advises Johnny, and settles her weight over her toes to await Johnny's attack.
Johnny Blaze The Ghost Rider stands ready.

THis was a young lady who was always kind to him and always treated him with respect. Though, now that it's shattered for the moment, no doubt. "You'd be surprised." The whisper reaches Caitlin's ears like a whisper on a dark wind, as if the Rider was speaking to her very soul.

Then, in a mixture of two voices, the Rider howls. Glass shatters all around it, as it starts to twirl the chain in its hands as he whips it towards Caitlin! The chain-links burst into hellish flame, intending to strike Caitlin right at center mass!

He packed some heat into that chain! The tip of it seems much hotter than the rest. No doubt that extra set of armor will help out Caitlin. She's confident, perhaps overconfident, in her own strength. He'll use that against her.
Caitlin Fairchild "Gah!" Caitlin exclaims. The demon head was bad enough, a flaming skull that will probably feature regularly in her nightmares for a while. But the swinging chains are a much more serious tactical concern. It's not like there's a good standard of training for dealing with someone armed with such a weapon, whether it's an improvised set of truck chains or a classical kusari. The significant, surprising length of those scorching hot chains is also something she simply wasn't prepared for. One she parries with a free hand, her bracers gleaming with a band of gold around all the shining steel. There's a deep *chime* of metal against metal and a spark of light from their contact.

The other one she can't do much but tank, and put faith in her armor. Caitlin's left arm raises high and she tucks her head behind the chinguard on her pauldron. The impact staggers her slightly but she recovers fast and gets her balance back under her.

Caitlin releases a reverberating ululation, a battle-cry that shakes the buildings around them, and charges at Ghost Rider with a terrifying acceleration that most people wouldn't think someone her size could manage.
Johnny Blaze *BOOM!*

The impact of the chain seems to stun Caitlin for roughly a nanosecond. She's not familiar with fighting foes with creative weaponry like a chain. But honestly? He's going to have to hit her much, much harder for it to do anything to her. The Hellfire helps, certainly, as very few things have resistance to the very fires of Hell, especially when it comes to angelic presences.

But, the chime of metal later and while the impact staggers her, Ghost Rider brings its chain back to it, and as Caitlin seems to reverberate a colossal battlecry, Ghost Rider seems to retaliate with one of its own, though it stands its ground, screaming with a voice that sounds as if someone unleashed the caged beast that Lucifer keeps as a pet. With a leap, the Rider charges Caitlin, ready to meet her blow with one of its own as a punch is moving straight for Caitlin's jaw.

Curiously though, the Rider doesn't protect itself. Which means its likely going to find a hammer right for it's side...

This is gonna suck.
Caitlin Fairchild If Caitlin were a true bruiser-- some meathead who fights only with her fists-- Johnny would have clobbered her good. Even a decent fighter can only soak so many head hits, even if they miss the jaw or temple. Magical armor or not.

Instead she hits the brakes hard mid-sprint and skids several feet. It sets her up for a golf-club swing with the hammer that takes the Rider under the ribs with near-perfect timing and it breaks some of the momentum of the flying right cross he throws at her. The impact of the heavy blow sends him skyward with enough force to throw a small vehicle up several stories into the buildings overhead.

"<Caitlin to MARVIN,>" Caitlin calls in over the Titan's private vox line, watching overhead to see where the Rider emerges. "<Priority task, all combat-relevant data about a ... demon. Er, a guy, who can turn into a demon,>" she amends. "With whips and a flaming skull and a leather jacket.>"
Johnny Blaze MARVIN pulls up some information regaling no solid information on the Ghost Rider, surprising. A few sightings here and there, with a....truly surprising number of casualties done by the Ghost Rider's hand. Curiously, the Rider has only killed those with deep criminal pasts, including serial killers, rapists, etc. With particularly...brutal murders for those who have managed to escape death's row when they 100% 'deserved it'.

Otherwise, there is nothing that indicated that Johnny Blaze was the Ghost Rider. Potentially a mystic threat, but nothing confirmed. Despite a 20+ year career of vengeance, very little is known. Caitlin might have to go without the tactical assistance on this one.

Though the swing from Caitlin manages to knock Ghost Rider way the hell into the sky! He smashes straight into one of the overhead buildings, landing in what seems to be an office space and knocking over more than a few desks and landing straight through a column. The Rider, as if it were some kind of program, stands up from its downed position and cracks its neck.

"Hnnnnnnnh....."

The creature growls, wrapping the chain around its person, he starts to approach where he was knocked into, exhaling brimstone in a long sigh.

The Rider then lifts its hands, large balls of fire forming in the being's hands, centered at the palm, and with throwing motions, throws two large hellfire fireballs at Caitlin! No doubt with....explosive reactions.
Caitlin Fairchild Caitlin gapes at the fireballs flashing through the air at her. The redhead turns in place and jams a foot against the asphalt for traction. Her lateral leap carries her a full thirty linear feet away from her position. It's not enough to avoid the heat entirely but it gets her out of the flash radius. She tumbles and rolls twice, leather skirt panels hissing with smoke and her tabard and cloak smouldering in several spots. The translucent armor overlay crackles and spits globules of light as the panels try to reconstitute themselves.

When she lands, Caitlin hooks a finger into a manhole cover, turns, and whips it at the Rider with astonishing force and accuracy. About a hundred and fifty pounds of rust-red Detroit steel whistles through the air at the Rider's position.

"No fair with the fireballs!" she shouts up at the skull-faced monster above her.
Donna Troy     Somewhere in the space between Caitlin and the Ghost rider, where the air ripples with the heat of passing hellfire, in a circular space some eight feet across, the ripples in the air seem to churn and swirl. Motes of flaming dust flicker and are soon overwhelmed with sparkles of purple light, and then with a sudden faint whoomph of displaced air, reality tears and a hole opens between Manhattan and Titans tower.

    The first thing through the hole is Donna's voice, calling "Jon, now would be a good place to start!"

    The second thing to come through is Donna Troy, all black in motorbike gear, though rather less dramatic than the Ghost Rider's own. In her hands her lasso glows golden and bright. Her head turns rapidly, first to Caitlin and then to the Ghost Rider, and then she moves like a blur. There is a loud clang of metal on metal as she raises her arm to block the spinning manhole cover with bracers hidden under her jacket, deflecting it to spin harmlessly away and crash to the floor.

    "STOP FIGHTING!" she bellows, head turning from one to the other. "Both of you! Stop fighting and LISTEN."
Jonathan Sims     Jonathan Sims is /right/ on Donna's heels, wearing black fatigues and his SHIELD lanyard, carrying his staff on his hip. No ICER, no armor, no tac vest. He never goes anywhere wholly unarmed since he got kidnapped right off the Hyperloop in broad daylight, but he was at Shadowcrest and then Titans Tower. There wasn't supposed to be a fight.

    He flinches visibly at the incoming manhole cover, eyes widening for a moment. The fingers of his right hand twitch over toward his left wrist. Easy enough to twist the bracer, call on power--but no. /No/. He's not doing that, not here. Maybe not ever again.

    Instead, he pulls the staff off his hips and shakes it out to nearly seven feet in height with the ankh at its top, braces himself, turns to stare up and try to find Johnny where he's crashed into the office. "BLAZE!" he shouts, with every breath of air in his lungs. "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING?!"
Johnny Blaze Ghost Rider was ready to dodge the man hole cover, but it would appear that a woman had arrived to deflect the attack! Ghost Rider isn't aware of the woman, but in Johnny Blaze's psyche, he hears the words whisper into his very soul.

<<Amazon...>>

Ghost Rider grumbles as the creature takes a step off of the ledge of the building he's on, suddenly dropping without a care for the height or the impact of the fall. He lands, surprisingly, almost immediately next to Sims as the impact cracks the ground beneath the Rider's feet as it exhales brimstone and rises back to it's full height out of the smoke and ashes.

"Enemy."

The Rider whispers, Jonathan able to hear the Rider's voice as if it resonated within his very soul. The Rider begins to walk, though Donna attempts to tell them to stop fighting. Strangely, the Rider doesn't respond to Jonathan, but seems to look at Donna, and she can feel the pressure. Like whatever the hell this thing was is peering into her soul. The skeleton in flames was steadily approaching.

Talk fast.
Caitlin Fairchild That heavy two-handed maul doesn't wait for anything, including the Rider's attention being temporarily diverted. Caitlin can throw that grossly oversized bludgeon even more accurately than those improvised weapons she can find on the street.

It's not particularly magical on its own, just well-forged Amazon steel. In her hands, yellow-gold flames erupt from the weapon as she cocks back behind her head and hurls it at Blaze's blindside when he starts pacing towards Donna.

"He's trying to kill us, that's what he's doing!" Caitlin screeches at Donna. "Why are you negotiating with the scary demon-face dude?! PUNCH HIM ALREADY!" she yells, and points a finger at Jon. "Put him on the ground before he zaps me again!":
Donna Troy     Donna's soul is an unusual one to peer into, even for an Amazon. It contains odd and unexpected resonances, and depths hidden from herself more deeply than most people's souls contain. It bears the marks and knots of anger and of guilt -- but of evil, of wickedness, even of ill-feeling? Remarkably little.

    She faces the oncoming Ghost Rider, flexing her lasso ready in her hands, legs braced. "You heard Jon," she says levelly. "Why don't you answer him? Or are you not on his side after all? Is Caitlin right? Do you want to prove her right? Should all three of us be fighting you? Speak to Jon. LISTEN to Jon!"

    With her attention on the Ghost Rider she misses Caitlin's hammer, hurled from behind her back, until it whizzes past her. "Cait!" she yells. "I said STOP FIGHTING! Both of you! You can't both prove the other right, that would be STUPID."
Jonathan Sims     "Gods damn it," Jon says, "Blaze, tell the Rider to back down, would you? Fairchild's off limits." He should have given the order before. He didn't want to be that firm. Stupid, foolish. "I told you, I told /everyone/, no killing mortals, and /she's a mortal/. So stand down."

    He shifts his grip on his staff. The Rider's not going to listen. He frowns, closes his eyes, and goes to one knee, holding the staff upright before him. Whispers a word, softly. The word means "water," but in a dialect of a desert people, long dead, whose entire civilization rotated around what may be the longest river in the world, "water" is a prayer.

    A shield forms, several feet in front of the Rider, blocking the space between them. A shield made of shimmering water, extending into the air and curving at the top, protective but also an attempt to keep the Rider from getting any closer to Caitlin. It's strong, every ounce of will Jon has poured into it, every scrap of concentration save what he needs to speak the next words.

    "MY enemy," Jon grates out, with the last bit of concentration. "She is for the /Archivist/ to judge, not /you/. I am Gaea's Champion. She is Michael's. I claim the right." It's the only thing he can think of, that /might/ get through to the demon.
Johnny Blaze Heavy steps, steps that leave flame burning in its wake, the Ghost Rider keeps its eyes ever forward, even as it watches Donna's soul. It searches. It's odd....guilt, anger, maybe even rage built up within her, but very little evil marrs her. The die is cast, and roll it does. Thankfully for Donna, it appears to have rolled highly. Her heart has been compared to the feather, and found worthy.

"Innocent."

The Ghost Rider speaks to Donna, whispering to her, even as she seems quite capable to fight, the Rider doesn't raise its hands against her. Rather, it almost looks like its going to end up moving -past- her rather than intentionally engage her in combat. The Rider sees the hammer. and looks as if it's going to catch it out of the air, only for the Rider's hand to be suddenly submerged in water.

"Humans and their titles." The Ghost Rider whispers in reply to Jonathon's pleas. "Champions see only what their masters whip them to see. Only care for what they intend to care. I do not see your pride or your honor. Vengeance has no honor." Ghost Rider replies with a growl.

"No death." It whispers. Eyes burning brighter. "Death is /easy/." Jon's will was strong....but so was the Ghost Rider's. Fearless(?) and indomitable. The Rider starts to move, yet Jon speaks of gods, and Ghost Rider seems to pause in his step, just as if he seems ready to punch through the shield.

"Judgment." THe Rider repeats, mulling the word. Okay...maybe that is starting to work as the Rider seems to be at least considering. Ball is in the other court!
Caitlin Fairchild Caitlin bellows with battle-lust and charges after Jon and the Rider as they hide behind that shimmering wall of water and will. It's that same shocking acceleration, faster than a cheetah could manage and with vastly more momentum. A few of those ground-pounding strides and fluttering silk streamers flicker into visibility over her shoulders, spread out like soaring wings. Caitlin's feet momentarily come off the ground. It gives her extra mobility, vastly more speed and momentum-- and more importantly, it sends her flying through Donna's grasp as the Princess lunges to intercept her. Alas, Donna tries to adapt too late to Caitlin's newfound mobility, and is knocked sprawling for her trouble.

The redhead lands two long strides away from the barrier, steps smoothly into in melee range, and sets her feet. She locks eyes with Sims through the watery barrier and hauls a fist back behind her head. Ethereal wings flex and stiffen as if locking her perfectly in place against the walls of reality around her.

Sims gets a good look at four small crucifexes fitted into the gauntlet's knuckleguard amidst delicate engravings of Latin text. The white light of the Demiurgos burns bright in the grooving of the metal.

Caitlin hits the barrier with enough raw power to knock a tank flying, and enough holy flame and fury to blow out windows for fifty yards in every direction with the sheer force of the hit.
Donna Troy     Donna curses herself that she wasn't sufficiently expecting more from power from Caitlin normally shows. She curses herself that she wasn't trying /harder/. Years of training have made her a very skilled fighter, but part of that has come from her taking care to limit herself, to avoid becoming too reliant on her powers rather than skill, and that comes with a price. She's not used to using her full strength, and she's perhaps a little slow to adjust when she really needs that extra little bit.

    She picks herself up off the ground, still cursing herself for failing to stop Caitlin, and pulls back her lasso to try to wrap Caitlin and pull her back, hoping that maybe if she doesn't hold back, she might have enough to pull back even this Caitlin Plus. But at the last moment, she stays her hand. This is still a fight. And that's still Caitlin. If she did restrain Caitlin, she'd open Caitlin to a counter-attack -- and that's not a good idea.

    Instead she braces against the shockwave of Caitlin's attack, then sprints forwards to simply be /beside/ Caitlin. It's where the two have been so often. Standing next to each other, in a fight. But she's not joining Caitlin in the attack.

    "Cait," she says, "Please. Stop. Give him a chance! When have we /ever/ not given someone a chance when they are standing there, willing to talk? This is /wrong/! You know it is. You say you're on the side of the good... then prove it! Choose peace, not violence. Give him a chance. Give US a chance. You told me this was your chance to be more than you ever were before. Did that include morality, goodness? Or was it just about power, and pride?"
Jonathan Sims     "It's not about /pride/ or /honor/," Jon spits at the Rider. He draws a shuddering breath. The shield has to hold. The shield /has/ to hold. "It's about /duty/. I swore an oath, and I intend to uphold that oath. I was /created/ to judge souls, and this one is /mine/ to judge. She serves Gaea, through Athena. I serve Gaea, through Ma'at. I claim the right. She is not for you. Back. Off."

    Then Caitlin punches the shield.

    The sheld does not hold. It shatters, dissolves, ectoplasmic water raining down upon them and evaporating before it touches the ground.

    Jon rocks back in shock, staff clattering to the side as he gasps, eyes wide. "Shit," he whispers. "Shit." He swallows, trying to remember what Donna told him. Apologize, tell Caitlin he liked her cookies. He can't think with his ears ringing, except that if she'd hit /him/ like that he'd be dead right now.

    "Please stop," he manages, breathless, terrified.
Johnny Blaze "Vengeance is mine."

Ghost Rider replies with those three words to Jonathan, as if it solves all problems. "I too was created for that purpose. To judge. To punish. You are no different." Ghost Rider speaks, though it turns its head at just the right moment when Caitlin suddenly charges! In a sudden movement, perhaps out of Johnny's care or because it was created to protect innocent lives, Ghost Rider reaches out to try and push Jonathan out of the way while the monster steps forth with a fist raised!

Seems diplomacy has failed.

With a leap off of his backfoot, the Rider attempts to meet Caitlin's fist with it's own hellfire-charged fist. Heaven's gates stares down Hell's flames, and Hell doesn't back down a single inch. Yet the white light of the Demiurgos burns bright, and the darkness of the deepest shadow rises forth to meet it.

Yet, Sim's shield was more than enough to block the mighty blow, or at the very least, intercept it. It gives the Ghost Rider an opening, one that it doesn't stop.

It's intention? Sucker punch Caitlin with enough force to push her back a good distance away.
Caitlin Fairchild Caitlin pauses for a half a moment. Sims, on the ground, backpedalling in fear and pleading for his life. Donna screaming at her, begging her to stop. Obstructing her. The words are part of a meaningless blur, a roaring noise in Caitlin's ears that is drowned out by the intense energies crackling through the air around her.

Her attention's diverted before she can commit to that last final step and she flicks her gaze to Donna's face. Lips part, a breath away from expressing some frustrated sentiment.

And then the Rider clocks Caitlin on the cheekbone with a brutally efficient right cross. Her head snaps back and she goes flying backwards a solid thirty feet, tumbling and scrabbling over the broken asphalt until she fetches up against a car hard enough to dent every side panel and shatter all the windows.

She groans and pushes herself to an awkward crouch, using the car for balance. Her left cheek is marred with blood and burns from where Rider's unholy flames seared her skin while he delivered that heavy hit.

Caitlin's hand tightens and her fingers dig into the car panels to reach for a good grip on the frame itself.
Donna Troy     'Innocent', had been the Ghost Rider's judgement, though he'd seen signs of rage in Donna's soul, and now he sees it on her face, as just for a moment it's right up in his own, braving the heat of that burning skull. "Vengeance? Vengeance for WHAT?" she screams.

    And then she's out of his face, as quick as it happened, striding over to check on Caitlin. She gestures towards where Caitlin crouches recovering from the ghost rider's punch, looking back at where Jon and Jonny stand. "You both talk about judgement. Judgement for WHAT! Look at her. LOOK! Because you think she's WRONG? Because you think she made a mistake? You're going to judge her because you believe she has been LIED TO?"

    She turns to face Caitlin, and for a moment Caitlin might notice an odd expression on her face, something that even after ten years she finds hard to judge. And then she's yelling at Caitlin. "And what about you, raising your fist to someone just as they might be about to see SENSE and TALK? Did you forget about EVERYTHING the Titans ever stood for? Or Aphrodite's words, do not subdue with force those you can subdue with reason? Did you FORGET? You say your on the side of good -- then ACT IT!"

    She turns again, stalking away down the street, throwing her hands up. "What's the POINT. All anyone can talk about is fighting each other. Nobody LISTENS. You're all as bad as each other!"

    She turns suddenly on her heel, finger raised in admonishment, not at any one of the three in particular, but perhaps at the whole world. Her mouth opens as if to keep yelling, but suddenly the anger subsides and she lets out a huff of frustration instead, and glowers.
Jonathan Sims     Jon is pushed aside, and can't move fast enough to stop Johnny punching Caitlin. He pushes himself to his feet, clutching the staff. "I'm trying to talk down a bloody /demon/, Troia," he grates from between clenched teeth. "I'm trying to speak its language. But evidently that... that wasn't /good/ enough. I'm never..." This is not the time for self-recrimination. He pushes it away.

    Instead, he steps forward, well into Caitlin's path, doing his best to get between her and Johnny. "I'm sorry, Caitlin," he says firmly. "I'm sorry I hurt you, the other day. I didn't want to kill you. I'm not going to... I'm not going to fight you anymore. I'll defend myself, I'll defend others, but I... I'm done fighting. There are others who can do that. It's not my place."

    It may come across as false words to Caitlin, but Johnny and Donna at least can surely hear the sincerity in his voice.

    "/Stop/ this. Stand /down/, Blaze. Get control of your bloody 'passenger.' This isn't what we're about. Didn't you /hear/ me at the meeting? We're defending /Gaea/. She doesn't /want/ this."
Johnny Blaze CRACK!

Ghost Rider's fist connects with Caitlin's face, sending her reeling across the street. The Ghost Rider huffs some ash and flame from it's maw, before it stands up straight, and seems to keep advancing. Caitlin was on the ropes, it would seem, and the Ghost Rider had it's chance.

It's chance for vengeance.

Though it seems to be mildly distracted from the repeated interferences. The first was from Donna, who braves the flames of hell to get into his face. No doubt it singes a few hairs. "She assists in the destruction of the world. Blindly or no, the crime is the same." Is all the Ghost Rider whispers to Donna about it's reasonings for doing what it's doing. It starts to take its steps as Donna begins to lose her temper with everyone present.

Though as the Rider continues to walk, it's suddenly affronted with Jon's presence standing between Caitlin and the Rider. "Move, Champion of Gaea." The Ghost Rider commands, the eyes as seering as the pit Lucifer was thrown into. He seems to exhale a breath, the foul air leaving Ghost Rider's mouth could melt a man's skin off of his bones, the kind that breaks the will of men. But Jon has a stronger will than that.

"Blaze and the Rider are one in the same. United in soul. One cannot exist without the other. The other cannot exist without the former." The Rider replies to Jon's words about 'passenger'. "If Gaea does not wish this, then let Gaea step forth into the fray." Despite Ghost Rider's...rather harsh words, Ghost Rider -has- stopped moving.

Finally, reason.

"Will you judge the human fairly, as the balance would demand?" Ghost Rider asks of Jon, as if it were weighing his heart on a scale against a feather.
Caitlin Fairchild Caitlin gets to her feet slowly and rubs her fingertips under the wound on her cheekbone. It's already healing despite the heavy hit, fresh pink skin pushing out the charred flesh from her fine features. Her grip loosens minutely-- for a few moments-- but then the Rider's stepping towards her, and Caitlin adopts a hard expression and shifts her weight for better balance.

"Didn't ask you to step in," Caitlin tells Donna with a scowl and a furious glare. She looks back to Sims and the Rider. "And I'm running out of patience for you," she tells Sims. "You talk a pretty good game right up until you run out of juice." She touches her face again, examining the blood on her fingertips. "You both go for a sucker punch instead of a straight fight. I'm gonna remember that for next time."

She looks up; a winged squad approaches, glowing with heavenly auras and making good time towards their location.

"Last round," she informs Sims and the Rider. "You can surrender now and we'll show mercy."

Caitlin lifts the car partially off the ground with no visible effort, setting her hips for another fastball throw. "Makes no difference to me. I can do this all day."
Donna Troy     "When have you ever had to ask me to step in, Cait?" There's no trace of rage left in Donna's voice when she answers her oldest friend, just exhaustion. "You told me about how they attacked you. I'm trying to get them to stop, to rethink. I wish you would too. Why are you so /angry/, Cait? Is this really you? Or did this get so bad that /it/ got out?"

    'It'? There may be questions later, but there's not much chance of receiving answers. That word is not intended for Jon, or for Johnny. Only for Caitlin.

    She turns to Jon, her expression blank, but she holds her gaze there as if she's trying to communicate something without giving anything away. Then her eyes go to the Ghost Rider, and she gestures towards them both. "Go," she says quietly. "Please. Both of you. Go and rethink. There's no good outcome here. None at all. Just go."

    The squadron of angels gets closer. Not far away, the Rabbit Hole still shimmers in the dark. Donna glances that way before her eyes seek out the oncoming angels. She looks again to Caitlin.

    "Cait... I... I'm trying," is all she can say.
Jonathan Sims     "You keep telling me to do that," Jon says, shifting his grip on the staff. "Surrender. But... I cannot surrender yet. Michael himself made that clear. I have to find my daughter before I can turn myself over to you. So just wait; you'll get your chance, and Michael will get his retribution. I intend to honor my promises."

    He turns to the Ghost Rider, and gestures toward the Rabbit Hole with his staff. "We are going to talk," he says in a firm voice. "But if you doubt that Gaea has spoken when Her Champion and an /Amazon/ show up to stop you, I don't know what there is to say."

    He glances to Caitlin. "You bake good cookies," he says. "Someday, when this is over... I'm going to ask for the recipe."

    And then he'll go, presuming that Johnny goes first. He's not going to leave until he's sure the Ghost Rider is off the field.
Johnny Blaze And the plot thickens.

The Ghost Rider watches as Caitlin gets back to her feet and readies herself. "The chance has been lost." The Rider comments in it's usual tone, lacking all emotion. Yet, The Rider seems more than fine standing his ground against the oncoming Winged Squad, growling. "There can be no mercy." The Rider replies, and he looks about to attack, though something in Donna's eyes seem to convince something for the Rider.

The Rider is willing to give his very existence for the sake of the human race. For the sake of the innocent. When Heaven becomes the enemy, the lines start to blur. And he sees something in her eyes. In her soul. What that meaning is? It's not the same thing as what Donna attempted to communicate, that's up in the air. But The Rider simply growls, and he's already turning when Jon is making his gesture, and Ghost Rider is stepping towards the Rabbit Hole without another word.

Yet....talk of a daughter is news to the demon's ears. But, it would appear that the Ghost Rider is off the field.

For now.
Caitlin Fairchild Caitlin's not much one for quips or conversation, thus her sole reply to Jon's words is a mute, steely-eyed stare of frustrated anger. For his attempts at being cordial Jon is rewarded with nothing except a momentary delay in Caitlin's aggression-- and that might as well be due to Donna's presence as his offered retreat.

The portal vanishes and Caitlin drops the car with a heavy *thud* and clattering of steel. She leans over, hands on her thighs, and takes a few steadying breaths to calm herself down and speed up her recovery. Fortunately the redhead is made of pretty tough stuff, and it only takes her a few beats to get her aplomb back together.

Angels land heavily near her, weapons out, and their focus zeroes in on Donna. "No! Leave her. Non-combatant," Caitlin exhales, still panting a little. She gets her warhammer, inspects it for damage, and hangs it from the U-shaped hook at the back of her armor so it rides safely out of her way.

The redhead walks towards Donna in a path that moves near the princess without intercepting her. Caitlin stops, looking ahead, with Donna in her peripheral vision.

"Try harder," she tells Donna, bluntly. "I had that handled. I can't -believe- you're dumb enough to get suckered by that Sims guy," she exhales through gritted teeth. "And you apparently trust him more than me, since you're BFFs and whistling up Rabbit Holes to conveniently move him around."

Caitlin digs a cloth out of her belt and wipes at her face to remove the worst of the dried blood and dirt on her cheekbone. She examines the detritus on the cloth, balls it up, and tucks it back into her belt.

"If you're not going to help me, then at least stay out of my way," she tells Donna with a blunt anger. "I don't need to get blindsided like this--" she points at her cheekbone- "because you feel like having a sharing session in the middle of a street fight."
Donna Troy     The disc of altered reality, the hole punched from one place to another, shrivels to a point of purple light, and is gone, leaving only a faint after-image of the lights of the tower. That too quickly fades.

    Donna watches the angels come to the ground all around her, her lasso loose in her hands. She makes no effort to run away, or to fight. Instead she waits for Caitlin, silent as her friend approaches, silence as her friend berates her. When Caitlin is done, she coils the lasso, and hangs it from her belt. She looks calmer now.

    "That report you sent," she says, her eyes still on the surrounding force of angels rather than Caitlin. "That... energy. Void energy? Something like that. That they fired on you. He promised me he won't do that again. So if he's suckered me? We'll see. And if he does use it again, I'm going to fly him out to the middle of the Atlantic and drop him there."

    "I'm giving him a chance to be better," she continues, "Because that's what I do. And I told the rest of the Justice League Dark what I thought of their tactics too. I don't trust Michael, Cait. I know you do, but I don't. But I warned him anyway. About that Demon Lord. Don't think he listened, but... I know that what they've done so far... it's proving you right. I'm not blind, I'm not stupid. But I believe people can be /better/. I will never stop believing that."

    Finally she turns to look at Caitlin, holding the gaze for a few moments, before she gives a shake of her head and looks away again. "You asked Marvin for help, Cait. You really thought I wouldn't come? You're my best friend. I love you."

    As soon as those last words are out she takes off in a blur, the glow of her lasso leaving a faint trail of gold, high into the sky.
Caitlin Fairchild Caitlin watches Donna fly off. Her expression is tense and hard-set, difficult to read. It's not until she's alone that the redhead exhales and lets her shoulders slump in deep-seated exhaustion, and she leans heavily against a car roof with elbows planted for support and her palms resting on her forehead.

<< WE DEMAND EXPLANATION. >> One of the angels-- a towering thing, easily ten feet tall and wearing shimmering pink armor, moves closer to Caitlin. It has more heraldry and presence than the others, likely one of the Second Order that form officer ranks for the lesser Thirds.

<< THE DEMON ESCAPED. THE HERETICS DEPARTED. >>

"You noticed that, huh?" Caitlin mutters into her hands. She lifts her gloves from her face, examining the damage that the fight with Johnny did to her modified armor.

<< YES. >> The angel lives right in the middle of that uncanny valley, a full and featureless facemask covering everything except an alabaster mouth that doesn't move when the angel speaks. It's alien in every regard-- too tall, too skinny, joints at wrong intervals. Humanoid but absolutely not human. << YOUR ORDERS ARE TO JOIN BATTLE WHENE-- >>

Caitlin turns, grabs the angel by the front if its breastplate, and hauls it down to crash to its knees in front of her. With no visible effort she hauls it towards her with one hand until her nose almost touches the sanctified steel.

"I -know- what my orders are," Caitlin grates through gritted teeth. "And -I- decide when I'm going to follow them. Not you, and not Michael." The angel starts to struggle and she bullies it backwards so all its balance is over its feet, the angel struggling to get leverage to rise.

"Donna's off-limits, and whatever that ... hell-biker's deal is, I will *not* authorize lethal force Sims' people unless I have no other choice."

She looks at the other angels. "Any of you at all unclear on what my orders are?" she demands of them. There is silence, which is as good as assent, and she looks back at the Dominion in her clutches. "How about you?"

<< NO. >> Caitlin glowers at the angel pointedly, and those frozen alabaster lips finally twist into something like resignation. << ... NO, COMMANDER, >> it corrects itself.

Caitlin shoves the angel aside and steps past it. Mystical, silklike ribbons of holy white light unfurl behind her in a shape like flared wings. "Then we're wasting time. All troops to the next zone. We're on a schedule," she reminds them, and with a minor flexion of her legs, surges skyward in flight.

Very deliberately, she forces herself not to turn and look in the direction of Donna's departure.