2011-10-13 - Something Wicked - Conclusion

Log Title:
Something Wicked, Conclusion

Characters:
Magik, American Dream, Ares, Hyperion, Whizzer, Moonglow II, Skylark, Power Princess, Doctor Spectrum

IC Date:
10-13-11

Location:
Reutgar's Island Resort

Brief log summary::
Belasco has been released from the Abyss, his demon hordes poor out onto this plane and threaten all its inhabitants. It is up to Magik, American Dream, Ares and the Squadron Supreme to stop the demonic threat.

Rating:
r

There is no TS in this log::
Yes

Post your log::
A remote island in the Caribbean occupied by a lone resort with access from sea and air. Reutgar Island was a thriving resort community until yesterday when some unidentified plague struck nearly 500 people and took them to the afterlife.

This event called the attention of Ares whom thought investigation would be better served with his own eyes and not the eyes of some underworld minon.

Upon the side of a small mountain, Ares stands looking over the decimation of the resort below. What he expected to find was what was described in the news, the CDC and WHOM were supposed to be investigating. He likely expected to find the grounds littered with bodies and rescue teams in HAZMAT suits running around taking samples. Instead he arrived to find a darkness that has overtaken the island. A darkness of significant import. A darkness from the Abyss.

The resort itself is shrouded by a darkening fog, from within the fog various demonic creatures stirr as they wait for their master to arrive. The dark fog slowly reaches out in all directions from the center of the resort. All that came to this island to investigate are dead, taken by demonic entities.

Next to him, he will sense another presence emerging from a stepping disk. A horned and hoofed blonde in her early twenties wearing shiny metal armor and holding a flaming greatsword will glance up to the god of war. "Stupid, stupid, stupid people." She says with the hint of an accent.

This event called the attention of Ares whom thought investigation would be better served with his own eyes and not the eyes of some underworld minon.

Upon the side of a small mountain, Ares stands looking over the decimation of the resort below. What he expected to find was what was described in the news, the CDC and WHOM were supposed to be investigating. He likely expected to find the grounds littered with bodies and rescue teams in HAZMAT suits running around taking samples. Instead he arrived to find a darkness that has overtaken the island. A darkness of significant import. A darkness from the Abyss.

The resort itself is shrouded by a darkening fog, from within the fog various demonic creatures stirr as they wait for their master to arrive. The dark fog slowly reaches out in all directions from the center of the resort. All that came to this island to investigate are dead, taken by demonic entities.

Next to him, he will sense another presence emerging from a stepping disk. A horned and hoofed blonde in her early twenties wearing shiny metal armor and holding a flaming greatsword will glance up to the god of war. "Stupid, stupid, stupid people." She says with the hint of an accent.

At the edge of the swirling darkness and crouched low, Ares picks up a handful of the dirt from the ground. For a time he holds it there in his hand, as if balancing it, weighing it, then lets it fall through his fingers in small clumps. He looks up, one eye scrunching in a faint grimace as he considers the demonic presence within that darkness. His brow furrows a touch and then he stands to his full height.

It's a moment after Illyana's appearance that he seems to recognize her, tilting his head to the side and levelling his gaze at her calmly. "I don't suppose this is your handiwork?" There's a cock of an eyebrow that and she might get the impression this man in blue jeans and flannel might be just assuming, or perhaps he's trying to make a small joke. Probably one that'll only amuse him.

Bamf? No. Blink? No. Neither of those sound effects apply. Still, one moment American Dream was just finished stopping a mugging. The next? She and her very special shield are standing on the gateway to hell on Earth. Staring down at the horror that was once a slice of paradise.

"God." American Dream shudders. Then she glances over. "YOU!" She says to Illyana. For a brief moment, her anger overcomes her shock. "You dumped me in the middle of a fight with Graviton! I was captured! Tortured!"

After waving her hand through the aether and summoning American Dream through a teleport disk. "Nyet." Illyana says with a snarl in her tone. "It is the work of Velasco." <spelled Belasco> "He threatens once again to overrun the planet with his demons from the depths of the Abyss. And I, Illyana Rasputinia, intend to put a stop to him."

She glances to the American Dream and says, "And now you have work to do." before she points down to the unfolding scene below. "But first." she waves her hand again and other disks open revealing other heroes. The Squadron Supreme emerges, seemingly ready for action (Power Princess, Hyperion, Whizzer, Doctor Spectrum, Skylark, and Moonglow).

The Power Princess says, "By the Goddess."

HYperion looks to Magik, "We're ready, you just better uphold your end of the bargin."

Moonglow starts casting some sort of spell.

Skylark and Doctor Spectrum both take to the air.

Whizzer speeds away to do recon.

"I don't suppose we can ask him nicely to leave." John Aaron smiles to himself a bit, his gaze lighting for a moment upon American Dream. "Hope you've been training well." That having been said he turns towards the appearance of the Supremes. "The more the merrier."

A few steps take the tall man forwards even as his silhouette flickers. There's a surge of shadowy power around him, so similar in some ways to the magics that Illyana and Belasco utilize, yet with subtle differences to the trained eye. There's a swirling lash of dark energy, a solidifying of shadow into form as heavy pieces of what could be gladiatorial armor seem to grow out of nothingness around him. In one hand a great obsidian axe takes shape, while in the other a long spear is gripped. He breaks into a jogging run forward.

"Ready for what?" American Dream says. "I don't have intel. I don't have… grrr…" She sighs as Ares begins his jog forward. "Great. Teamming up with folks I've never worked with before to battle a menace of intergalactic proportions with no intelligence. Wooonderful." She points her shield at Illyana. "You and I are going to talk later." Then she runs after Ares. Directly behind him, actually. Let him be the tank. Her job is to be smarter.

The Squadron Supreme launch into action after Illyana nods and she herself starts moving down the mountainside toward the resort.

Emerging from the dark fog, countless demonspawn from the maw of the Abyss lurch outward in response to the approch of the heroes. They are varied in their sizes, shapes and grotesque and deadly nature, but are nothing more than hordes with which to wade through and give the heroes resistance as Belasco himself readies for the conflict.

Belasco is likely located within the obsured resort, his location not yet identified.

There's a wildness that shines in Ares' eyes, glowing red from within the great crested helm of shadow that he now wears. A tinge of an ancient accent touches his words as he calls over his shoulder towards American Dream. "What more does one need?" He turns back, picking up speed as he lashes to the side with that large axe. "There," He gestures with the spear. "There lie foes that stand before us. There lie those that would oppose us. They invite us to battle with the purity of their defiance."

A laugh comes from the God of War, echoing preternaturally as his voice grows ominous and wild. "Naught else matters a'tall." And even as the last word leaves him he uncurls in smooth form like the crack of a whip as he sends that great spear hurtling forwards and towards the lead demon who would dare challenge him "To BATTLE!"

"… no wonder Athena kicked your ass in the Trojan war." American Dream mutters almost entirely to herself. Still, she follows the god of war into battle. Unlike the rest of the people on the field, she has no powers. Just training, moxie, and one hell of a shield. American Dream fights smart, sticking to Ares' back. Using her shield and some kung fu, she slaps down those demon that might beat on the big man from behind.

The Demon Hordes rush forward, the heroes are quite able to knock them away, turn them to dust or smoke with their powers (or shield). Illyana herself wades through the demons with her sword slashing them into oblivion. The Squadron Supreme have no issues with the demons, especially those with ranged attacks like Doctor Spectum, SKylark, and Moonglow.

Ultimately, the heroes dispatch the bulk of the demons and are able to enter the resort's main structure. Inside they find a horrific macabre of death and decay as human bodies litter every aspect - used as demonic artwork and disgust.

Moonglow, the resident 'other sorceress' points toward the central hub of the resort (ballroom) and says, "Belasco is that way!"

Slinging the large great axe over his back, Ares walks forward amongst the corpses and chaos. He tilts his ichor-spattered helm back with one hand as he looks upon the carnage with his own eyes. There's a distance to his gaze, unphased by the spectacle. He moves forward with the other heroes and considers his surroundings with a measure of aplomb.

There's a coalescing of energy upon his left arm as a heavy squarish shield forms out of shadow, solidifying into an elaborately ornate defense. To the side Ares murmurs, "What is it you know of the demon-girl?" He asks of American Dream even as they make their way towards Belasco.

"Her name is Illyana Rasputin. Codename Magik. She was with the New Mutants… a splinter team of the X-Men… for a while." American Dream answers as she steps up beside Ares. She watches the shadows. Watches the doorways. Watches the ceiling. The enemy always attacks from the ceiling when you aren't watching it. It was one of Clint's big rules. "She's a mutant with teleportation power. Apparently, she's also connected to a magical dimension known as Limbo. That gives her sorcery powers and the whole demon appearance."

The Squadron Supreme doesn't let up, nor does Illyana. The hatred within her demonic eyes pushes her on toward the resolve of Belasco's death and further dismemberment.

Every so often, a demon will jump out of the shadows - easily smacked down and discharged.

Moving forward together, Ars takes up his position beside American Dream and covers her with his shield at times as well as using it to slam into the face of an errant demon. He heaves a grunt of acknowledgement when she finishes reciting the information about Illyana, then breaks into a jog again in the search for Belasco.

"She reminds me of an ex of mine," He says this even as he rounds a corner and _slams_ the shield into the chest of a large burly demon, then promptly caves in its chest with a heavily armored boot. He rounds to make sure there is no ambush, then presses on.

"Really? I thought Aphrodite didn't have cloven hooves." American Dream is only a little snarky there. Its the middle of a fight and she's sort of cranky. She slips under Ares and throws her shield. It bounces off a door on one side of the corridor, shoving it open, and hits another, opening it as well. American Dream catches her shield and then checks each room to make sure no surprises linger.

The ballroom is a vast location with two stages, overturned tables and chairs, littered with dead bodies and housing several score of demonkind. These demons are of a heartier sort and will pose only a minor challenge to the heroes. In the middle of the room, seated on an oversized throne is Belasco, the one armed demon. His dark features aglow with demonfire and bears the smile of an usurper.

Illyana steps forward, "Velasco! Today is the day you truly die. For I will be killink you." and she rushes forward, leaps over several demons and uses others as steps to place her feet in her lunge toward Belasco.

Hyperion orders his team to fan out and take care of the demons. And Moonglow to back up Illyana.

In answer to Dream's quip Ares responds almost too casually, "It is different for we gods." And he does not elaborate further than that. Instead upon reaching that doorway into the ballroom he takes point and considers the situation. In a flicker of an instant he quantifies the beings there, the likely disposition of force that shall occur in the coming conflict, and where he can apply his own strength to have the greatest effect. Luckily, for him, the answer to that tactical question is to once again charge forward and kill everything that gets in his way.

"Come then, send what stunted creatures you can! Send what abominations you will!" Ares' helm snaps back down into place as he roars happily with a burst of laughter. He charges forward with that shield before him, seeking to plow a path through and heading towards Belasco, if only to give him something else to think about while Illyana attacks.

"Great." American Dream analyzes the situation. Cut off the head and the snake dies. Unless its a worm and not a snake, in which case cutting off the head just gets you two worms. Still, she tries to end this, quickly. She leaps up into the air, using a minor demon as a catapult. Then she throws, hard. Her shield… the shield of Captain American… zooms through the air, on a direct course for Belasco's ugly head.

The 'snake' doesn't go down so easily. He stands slapping away the shield with a sword of his own. His height is revealed to extend upwards of 9 feet.

Illyana closes with him and they begin their own melee.

Ares will find two larger demons heading his way from either side, bruisers/enforcers, to ward away any who may interfere.

Hyperion's group is doing what they can to levy the demon hordes.

There's no hesitation in the god's stride, no pause or shift of momentum. It's almost as if he had expected those two great creatures to move to intercept him. He hunkers down behind the shield as he charges, as if getting ready to slam into these creatures as he has done to all those who opposd him moments before. His footfalls are heavy, shaking the earth as he draws near, and then when the creatures are drawing back to slam their firsts down upon him…

He rolls forwards, tucking neatly into a smooth somersault that has him coming up behind the creatures and slashing sharply one way… the other, trying to hamstring the creatures viciously.

"Right." American Dream says to herself. "Of course not." She runs forward and jumps. Her next step takes her to a table top, which she uses to spring board forward. Her hands find the top of a demon's head and she vaults over. This particular demon is one of the ones trying to make Ares a dead god. It gets a star disc on the back of the head in passing. Just at the base of the skull, where most creates are more vulnerable. When she lands, American Dream tucks, rolls, and snags the shield.

The demon heavies stand no chance against Ares, but they're good at slowing him down, something that Belasco expected.

Illyana and Belasco go at one another like father and daughter after breaking curfue.

Once Dream obtains her shield, she sees the back of Belasco's throne. Within the throne itself is some sort of radiant gemstone which may be the source of the demon's power, may also be the item that keeps the portal to the Abyss open and demons pouring through.

As one of the demons goes down on one knee, Ares' axe sweeps around cleanly in one smooth arc. The creatures manage to delay him, and for that they serve their master well. But it's only a moment… two before the God of War is past them, leaving the large shield in the throat of one of the fallen creatures, now taking his axe in both hands.

"Demon Lord, you suffer such difficulty with one mortal child. Turn and face a God if you dare." That arrogance, the utter bravado of it comes to the fore as Ares exults in the craze of battle. He lashes the axe to the side, demonic ichor spattering upon the ground.

"Right." American Dream scans the room. Her eyes lock onto the back of that throne. Something Clint Barton told her once pops to the forefront of her mind.

"These big superhero brawls aren't always decided by who is the most powerful. While Thor and Iron Man slugged it out with the baddies and Cap directed traffic, sometimes it would come down to a single arrow hitting the right spot to shut everything down."

American Dream aims carefully and lets fly. Her shield hurls through the air at the target. Not a demon. Not Belasco. Not Ares' bragging mouth. No, it hurls towards the big gem on the back of the throne.

Belasco catches glimpse of the flying shield thinking that he may be its target. Instead, he sees the direction to which it flies. He screams, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" a split second before the star spangled shield strikes true. Then with a chink of glass being cracked, the mottled red football sized gemstone splits in twine. The energies from within are released in an explosive wake that casts darkness in all directions at unseen speeds.

Seconds later, when the smoky haze clears. Only the heroes will be revealed standing. Beneath Magik's cloven feet lays Belasco, her sword burried within his chest, through his black heart. His features begin to blacken, crack, and ultimately turn to dust.

The great crested helm upon Ares' noggin is pushed back with one hand as he straightens up from his ready stance. The axe lowers to clank loudly upon the ground as he leans upon it. He's definitely a sight to be seen what with the blood and ichor clinging to his armored form. He looks between the various heroes and then says levelly. "Victory." As if that was all that needed to be said.

"Right. Victory." American Dream says, gasping. That was a tough fight. Her costume is ripped in a dozen places thanks to demon claws. Her shield will need a new paint job. She'll have bruises the size of poodles in the morning. Still, any victory you can walk away from…

The Squadron drops out of combat and Hyperion walks to Illyana.

Illyana states, "It is done. Velasco has fallen and the vorld saved."

Hyperion looks back at his group then to Illyana, "Now for your part of the bargain."

Illyana nods. A stepping disk envelopes her/Belasco, Hyperion, and the Squadron. Thus leaving American Dream and Ares in the midst of the ruined resort.

"Hm." The tall man says calmly. He looks after the direction of where only moments ago Illyana and her comrades had stood. Ares folds his arms over his chest even as the shadowy armor about him begins to fade back to the nothingness from whence it came. He looks over at American Dream and then says, "A touch rude wouldn't you say?" There's a small smirk that flickers over his features, barely there but still.

"I'm guessing she's not big on politeness, no." American Dream slides her arms through the straps of the shield, putting it on her back. "So… did you fly a Quinjet here? Because I don't have a ride home."

"I did not fly here, no." Ares slides his hands into his jean pockets as the last bits of his armor fade. He starts to walk away from the resort, stepping around the debris and carnage as he moves. Over his shoulder he says, "I can get you home, but it is not entirely a pleasant trip." No longer Ares, and more John Aaron now, the tall man pushes open the shattered remains of the double doors that lead into the room. "I can create gateways, but if you do go into one with me I recommend you close your eyes until we're out the other side."

"Why can't anyone just teleport in a nice, normal way." American Dream follows behind Ares. John. Whoever he is at the moment. She glances around at the resort and sighs. "I suppose there's no point in searching for survivors, is there?" No. This isn't the sort of horror show that leaves survivors. Dammit.

"You see so mispleased." John holds the door's frame for her in that oh so gentlemanly way. He then stalks out into the hall and extends a hand to the side. Again there are the wispy wavery tendrils of dark energy that seem to swirl around him, this time manifesting in a twisting vortex of shadow that slowly tear a bloody hole in reality. Yet he continues to chat easily enough even as he does this. "You just aided in a fine victory, you performed what you could for your world. One would imagine you would take some aspect of pleasure or pride in such."

"I got the job done. I'm still not sure what the job was. I'm not convinced the fight couldn't have been avoided." American Dream admits. "But, no. I'm not pleased. This much death shouldn't please anyone."

"It is what mortals do." A horribly callous thing to say, yet for a moment there's a hint of hesitation even as he murmurs this. His gaze narrows and Ares looks to the side. Once the vortex finishes forming and solidifies he gestures towards it. "At your leisure, or if you wish I can send an Avenger back with one of their jets if you so wish." He looks back to her, an eyebrow cocking as he awaits her answer.

FTB

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