14841/An Encounter From Hell

An Encounter From Hell
Date of Scene:	23 March 2023
Location:	East Park Side (Crime Alley), Old Gotham
Synopsis:	What happens when Magik's bathroom door leads to.. a Meth Lab in Gotham that is being raided by the Red Hood? Mayhem. And, perhaps, some common ground.
Cast of Characters:	Red Hood, Magik

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Red Hood has posed:
At almost 2am on a weeknight in Gotham, most law abiding folk are at home asleep or at their place of employment if they work nights. That leaves those who are disinclined to follow the laws of the land and those who hunt them as the only others likely to be awake.

Red Hood stands atop an apartment building in the East End, Gotham's less desirable part of the city. He is looking toward a building across the street, staring at an apartment that has been converted into a meth lab. They'd have been smarter to have set up outside the city, or pull a Breaking Bad and put it in an RV. They were not smart. And as a result, they have earned Hood's attention and growing displeasure.

He stands there in the shadows, releasing a small drone that silently wings its way to the window, scanning inside to get a head count. He may be brash but going in with incomplete intel isn't brash, it's stupid.

Magik has posed:
Illyana Rasputina does not necessarily know how she arrived in Gotham City. She was conducting research on leylines, a heavy tome resting in the curve of her arm, in the library of her Palace in Limbo. The words rising up from the page with the mystical curling of her fingers, creating interconnecting segmented lines that coelesce together into a lattice pattern shaped ward. Her perfectly expressionless face only flashes with the hint of displeasure when her spell does not summon the effect that she had desired.

This is hours worth of study wasted. A terrible inconvenience. Even for the Queen of Limbo, who resides between the flow of time as it exists in the world most people reside. Hours for her is seconds for them.. sometimes. Magic, while very structured and universally ordered, is an assholes card game when it decides.

The book snaps shut in her palm and returns to the shelf, passing away on bare-feet towards a horrifyingly beautiful plant in a clay pot sitting upon the rounded surface of a end table. She scoops up the plant, sprouting fingers, ears, and eyes on stocks, and walks through the twisted hallway of her domains...

Then pulls up short with a furrow to her brow when she passes one door in particular. She doesn't look at it, at least not at first. And when she does it's with narrowed eyes, "Where did you come from." With a small pale hand closing around the knob to give it a gentle twist. When it opens, she steps through. Heedless of where it might lead or what threats might be there to die horribly if they attempt to do her ill.

Instead of continuing into her own Fortess, however, she steps out of the bathroom of the apartment Red Hood was viewing. His drone seeing an alabaster skinned young woman, bare foot, in a long black sleeping shirt with a stylized Misfits print across the front and a pair of very comfortable fuzzy pajama pants. Also she has a plant under her arm and a sour expression on her face. "Why are you in my bathroom." To the meth lab people.

Red Hood has posed:
If this were a movie, it would be a dark comedy. This would likely be the point where the zany music or the laugh track would begin.

But it isn't a movie. The drug techs and their assigned security (AKA gunmen) all look up at the sight of the blonde in her, uh, jammies and that freaky little plant in her arms. The drug techs all have gas masks on and so their cries of alarm are muffled. The security guys have masks as well but they don't cry out. Their actions speak for themselves.

Of the five gunmen, three lift pistols that heavily suggest over compensation, while the other two lift up SMGs. All are aimed at the blonde.

In that moment, there is a string of cursing from the rooftop across the street, flowing colorfully from within the mask of Red Hood.

How'd the blonde get in there. There weren't supposed to be any users, just the lab techs and guards.

Pulling his pistols, he takes aim. The drone's video feed providing more accurate smartlink data to his mask to show his aiming points. Ten rounds are fired in total.

In that moment, the window pane shatters in the same moment that three drug techs collapse to the floor in a twitching, spasming heap.

Distraction or not, Red Hood is in motion, firing off a grapple line that rapidly pulls him across the gap. Landing on the fire escape, the vigilante hurdles the window sill, weapons in hand as he tries to keep the guard's attention on him and not the innocent(?) blonde. That's a conversation for later without question.

Magik has posed:
There could be a great many more firearms pointed at her and Illyana would carry the same, very unimpressed, expression on her face. She stares at them deadpan, with eyes so very blue and so unreasonably cold. She is, certainly rather late given everything happen at once, coming to terms with the fact that her bathroom is now a drug lab. Full of armed men.

Clearly her spell had unintended effects.

The window shatters inward and a drug tech drops to the floor spasming. Illyana turns very casually and sets Petrovich down on an end table after knocking a half glass of spoiled milk and a few magazines from the surface to make room for the pot. So nonchallant in the midst of all this potential violence that it comes off as, understandably unnerving to the man stepping up to put a gun to her head. He says something crass and predictably thuggish, but she brushes her fingers along one of the ears of her plant before turning to face the barrel.

Staring around it pointing right betwixt her eyes.

Her fingers wiggle at her sides, but he's staring into Illyana's eyes staring up into his. Swirls of energy dance between those curling digits until she points her palm out at him flat. From her palm tendrils of inky blackness errupt from a wound running straight between her middle and index finger through the center of her hand. They wrap around him, bending his arms to his side, and squeeze as he's hoisted up into the air and flung across the room with a sweep of her palm, barreling through one of the pair sporting SMG.

Her other arm comes up when the firing starts, armor folding out like a hard light projection that bounce any incoming bullets away harmlessly. Tentacles coiling and writhing from both her palms as she walks towards the guards foolish enough to be looking at Red Hood and not the actual demon in their midst.

"Get out of my bathroom."

Red Hood has posed:
Red Hood hears that statement just as he physically arrives in the apartment.

_Get out of my bathroom._

"They're actually in the kitchen. Livingroom. Probably the bedroom. Seems like you came out of their bathroom, blondie."

The gruff masked voice comes from Red Hood, the man has his own guns. But they're not aimed at Illyana. And his armor has a red Bat symbol. In Gotham that is synonymous with The Good Guys. No, really.

Then she is doing witchy things, tossing a guy around, creating a shield to not get shot.

"Nice." It's all he offers by way of approval as he aims his guns at the two guards trying to shoot her. The measure of mayhem and confusion works in their favor and against the occupants of the drug lab. It means that in short order they're down to one SMG and one Pistol seeking to oppose their presence. And a volley of bullets rips through the kitchen wall as the guards fire blindly while the rest of their allies are incapacitated on the floor. It seems that whatever ammunition Red Hood is using is at least non-lethal. But no less effective.

Magik has posed:
It is by pure happenstance that Illyana opted for using shadow magic rather than her Soul Sword. Her inherent ability for causing things to die is in equal parts magestic as it is truly terrifying. However, through no doing of her own, she is abidding by the laws of the land.

Hurt them, sure.

But let them keep breathing.

The last guard with his SMG is of no concern to her at all. Not that she's immune to injury, truly she's not immune, but she is, as the kids say, OP. Is it fair? Probably not. But she came by it relatively honestly. In so far as growing up in Limbo is fair to any nine year old.

Suffice to say. Today is still not his day. Neither will tomorrow be.

Her palm points out to him and the black tendrils rip across the open livingroom to wrap around him, binding him like an Eldritch torture device that, should they not be in Gotham, would certainly snap his spine and spray the interior of this living room with three or four hundred gallons of black blood as if they were in anime. Instead, she flings him against the wall with a snap of her hand down to her side. He crashes through plaster, studs, and smashes up against the cabinet beneath the sink. Snapping pipes and spraying dirty brown water everywhere.

With no more threat, the armor collapses. Once more in her jim-jams. They are called Jim-Jams.

Turning cold blue eyes to stare at Red Hood. "Da, but is my bathroom to me." She points towards the open door she'd entered from and the expansive hallway that definitely isn't attached to any floor plan he's seen for this building. "Everything is subjective." Petrovich is scooped up in one arm. Eyes dropping from the Red mask to the red bat symbol. "You are Batman?"

"Thought you were taller."

Red Hood has posed:
Red Hood isn't bulletproof either. But his armor is advanced enough that he has no real risk from the rounds being sprayed ineffectively from the gunman in the other room. THen he's taken down by the blonde's magic and the issue becomes moot.

Checking that the occupants in the kitchen are down and out, Red Hood begins to move around to pull their wrists behind their backs where he secures them with zip ties.

A snort is given at her comment.

"Not Batman. No pointy ears. No cape." Plus guns.

"I've got it where it matters."

"I'm Red Hood. And this is probably not the place you want to be for very long. GCPD will be here in less than five minutes." Standing up after binding the last of the downed drug techs, he looks to her, "You might want to consider changing where your bathroom connects. This isn't a great part of Gotham. Even for hot blonde witches. Or whatever you call your talents."

Then he pauses, looking her over, "You're okay?" She seems to be. But at least he was decent enough to ask?

Magik has posed:
Blue eyes follow Red Hood as he moves around to secure the unconscious husks of guards laid around the livingroom drug lab in her bathroom. Turning to regard the doorway, she flicks her fingers and closes it. Blocking any invaders who, unfortunately, would probably be devoured by demons shortly after entering Limbo. Which doesn't necessarily bother Illyana, but would require her to clean up.

"Oh." Red Hood. She doesn't know what that means, but only because she is not well versed in the heroics of Gotham City. It is a city where she, ironically, would fit in very well because of the inherent darkness, but has kept her distance for unknown reasons. Until know anyways. Magic is very strange.

"Da. You are wearing armor." Tapping it with a long extended finger indicating what he has where it counts.

"The GCPD are not the good guys. I know this much from reading." So she makes a decision and lays a hand on his arm as a teleportation pad appears beneath her. She isn't sure where they're going, but it won't be here!

Luckily it's only the building from which Red Hood had been observing the apartment. She releases his arm. "I am Illyana Rasputina, Queen of Limbo. They call me Magik. I think this is derivative and stupid code name for someone as unmistable as me, but whatever. I do not make rules. You can call me Illyana, Illy, or Yana. I prefer Illy."

"I do not know if you are handsome, but thank you for compliment, armored man."

Red Hood has posed:
Jason Todd says, "Nah, GCPD isn't ba.." Then she's walking up and touching his arm. And then he feels like he's going to lose his dinner for a moment. Teleportation isn't a thing he does regularly. Or ever.

"...shit.. little warning, maybe, if there's ever a next time? Yeah, warning would be good." He takes a step to get his balance as he looks around. Continuing his last comment, ".. GCPD isn't entirely bad. There are good cops. But bad too."

Illyana. Queen of the Limbo. Well she might be that flexible. Who was he to judge?

"Nice to meet you Illyana. Illy." He adds as she notes her preference.

A laugh. "Well I'd say I break the mirrors I look into. But who knows. Maybe you'd like the beast behind the mask. But not this time. I don't get that familiar on the first date."

Reaching into his jacket, he pulls out a card. "I do things old school." Offering it over, it's a business card. THe same red Bat symbol, an email address and a phone number. "If you happen to be in Gotham and need a hand, you'll get a fair chance with me. But you should know, if you don't already, that Batman really doesn't like magic powers or super powers in Gotham. He considers it his city to protect. And he's funny like that. Me? I don't give a shit. If you're not a criminal, who am I go tell royalty to keep out. Seems like you've got the firepower that what I say wouldn't do much anyway.""

Magik has posed:
"Good with bad." Illyana nods to the clarification of the state of GCPD ethics.

She stands with her plant craddled against her side, the other hand rests under the plants base. "Okay, next time I will warn you." She could not possibly know there will be a next time, of course. She stares up at him with an unhealthy length of time where she doesn't blink. When she does it isn't by reflex, but because she seems to realize that staring is awkward and uncomfortable for people.

"Are we on a date?" Her head cockes to the side scrutinizing him with a thin lipped expression. "I suppose as far as first dates goin, I have had worse. One time someone took me to see movie, surrounded by strangers who did not respect boundries. They kept putting their elbow on my arm rest." her nose wrinkles, "I did not like that."

She does take the business card. Tucking the corner into the soil beside Petrovich's stim. "So if I come to Gotham, call you, do not call Batman." She nods to that, "I do not have my phone or I would give you number. In case you are ever in Limbo. I am ruler there, so you should not have to worry about anyone else... maybe be upset with whoever sent you. Definitely call me, I will make sure you are getting home."

Red Hood has posed:
Jason Todd sees the plant, finally. "Holy fuck.. " he mutters, stepping back once. Like one does when they realize they've been standing within striking distance of a rattle snake warming itself in the sun. More out of caution than fright. Probably.

He laughs quietly. "Just a figure of speech. Not exactly a date. Not a proper one anyway" he mutters. Then he nods, "People in theaters are the worst."

"Batman has specific views when it comes to protecting Gotham. THey tend to involve mostly him doing it. But grudgingling he lets some of us do it too. He can't be everywhere."

"I'm not sure what Limbo is. Or where. But I've seen enough to know I probably don't want to be there without you." He may be staring at the plant from behind that Mask. But mostly because, well. It's unique. That would be a word for it. Then he looks back at Illy. Because she's easier on the eyes without question.

"What about you? I assume you can.. wiggle your nose and portal your way home or something. Or do you need a ride?"

Magik has posed:
Illyana narrows her eyes at the reaction to the plant. Her hand comes up to cover one of it's ears, but there are actually dozens more sprouting off the stalk. "He can hear you. He also does not eat humans. Limbo flora eats demons.. or demon born entities anyways. There are no humans in Limbo, so they do not have this naturally occuring in diet." She presents the plant, holding it up to Jason so he can either get a closer look and see that he is not harmless, as far as she's concerned because the jury is still out, or to repulse him further by proximity.

The moment has passed. She tucks it beneath her arm again.

"Oh. I am still learning figures of speech, they change with every season. It is no longer considered socially acceptable to call things wack. I missed that period. I very much enjoy saying the word wack. Now, when I do, people look at me funny." Her nose wrinkles, shaking her head.

"Limbo is a dimension. I suppose closest representation to easily explain it would be Hell. It is not hell, hell is its own place, but it is very much like hell. There are demons, but there are also other creatures and not everything is evil. Only most things."

She stands staring at him, "Da, I can teleport, but you can drive me around and pretend to drop me off somewhere if it will make you feel helpful. My therapist says I should attempt to include people in my daily routine so that I can make more friends."

Red Hood has posed:
Red Hood shakes his head, "I didn't think it was going to." Eat him. "Just wasn't expecting it." He actually steels himself and regards the plant when it is shown directly to him. "It's not like any I've seen before." That might be good.

He laughs. "I think wack is a fair word to use for a lot of things in life. Just because cool people aren't saying it, doesn't mean it can't be an effectve term."

Listening as she explains, he nods. "Ahh.. okay." So not a circle of hell. Dante can't help him here. Or there. He shakes his masked head, "I'm not looking to do anything you don't need, Illy. If you needed a ride I would be helpful. If you can just portal wherever you want, I don't think you really need to subject yourself to my driving." A nod. "Friends are good to have." He's probably not the ideal sort of friend, by most standards. "Allies too." Now he's trying to make friendly with the devil herself? Maybe not so smart. Or maybe it's a move that is crazy like a fox.

Magik has posed:
Illyana does seem to appreciate the closer inspection of her plant, though the indication of this is a nod. "I certainly would hope not. I attempted to bring more, but the spell binding them to the pot did not hold and several got loose. Thankfully were able to recollect them before they soiled themselves. They are a very aggressive species and would have spread rapidly." She pats the pot with one hand. "Petrovich is very well behaved. I will soil him soon. Very good at keeping demons away."

There is a scrutinizing stare, though all of them seem to be. As if she's weighing every word for something most people can pick up naturally. "People find me very unsettling to be around. I do not think I am considered cool." Her icy blue eyes look over his armor, his guns, and the way he spoke of his differences to Batman. "I think you understand. Standing on outside, pretending you do not want to be part of it because you feel like they do not welcome you."

Her head tilts just slightly, eyes turning to the side in a thoughtful consideration. Then the snap back up to look on the red mask. "Do you need me to teleport you somewhere? If your driving is that bad, perhaps it would be safer for you to let me teleport you. Instead of subjecting yourself to potential harm." Her bare toes curl in the wet gravel. "Otherwise I will go. Gotham smells like old socks. I will text you immediately when I have gotten back to my phone. So you have my number. If you wish to use it. I will be fine if you do not."

Red Hood has posed:
She sees a lot more than most, regarding what is cool or welcomed by others. "Something like that" he says sullenly. "But why should we change for anyone else. They don't change for us."

He shakes his head, "No. My bike is in the alley." He laughs at the bad driving part. "More that I drive fast. And some would say recklessly."

Then he bursts into laughter. It's actually amused. To many it might be unsettling. Over all it's not such a bad sound to hear him actually laughing. He just doesn't do it often.

"Old socks. Yeah. I can see it." And smell it. "Travel safely Illy. It was.. nice. And Interesting. To meet you." A nod to the offer of a text, "Sure. If I run into any demons or strange plants I'm not sure how to handle I'll know who to contact."

Magik has posed:
Illyana nods once, accepting all that is sad to be true for no other reason than she's got zero reason not to. She doesn't know the particulars of why Red Hood is the way he is, but would probably not feel it any more fair the treatment he receives if she did. Her own upbringing and history is equally as depressing and sad. "Do not die being reckless then."

A glowing disk appears beneath her bare feet. Blue eyes staring at him as he explains the reason that he might contact her. "I cannot help with the smell of Gotham. Well... maybe..." She purses her lips thoughtfully, "Niet, I do not have an Ravens breath. Sorry. Perhaps you should rub vasoline beneath your nose to help." Her nose wrinkles, twitching side to side.

Nothing happens though. "That was a witch joke."

Then just as quickly as she walked out of a bathroom, she's gone.

No fanfare or dramatic pop.

She may as well have been an illusion or a fever dream.