15260/Cults are a C-Word

Cults are a C-Word
Date of Scene:	25 June 2023
Location:	Meatpacking district, Manhattan, New York
Synopsis:	Tabitha is almost abducted by one cult looking to screw over another. Thankfully she's saved by Raven and America.
Cast of Characters:	Boom-Boom, Miss America, Raven

---

Boom-Boom has posed:
The Meatpacking District of Manhattan is usually a good place to find a pop up rave or underground club for whatever strikes someone's fancy. Of course the fun can't always go on all night and sometimes people need to go home.

To Tabitha's chagrin. What she hadn't expected was to get a bunch of wannabe god bothering religious nuts trying to recruit her.

What might get people's attention is the sound of explosions and screaming down some seemingly random back alley between warehouses.

A couple white vans at either end and a bunch of what looks like Mormons with their shorts sleeved white shirts, black ties and slacks trying to shoot a blonde woman in ripped and tight red jeans and a yellow tube top with tranquilizer darts and stun gun electrodes sticking out of her.

Blonde hair flailing wildly while she tries to fight back though with the number of darts in her and electrode cables the woman seems tough but she's running out of steam fast. The bombs she throws not doing much more than knocking people about if not out as the drugs in her system.

There is banter among them, mostly amazement and frustration. "No frigging wonder the Triune wanted this one. We present her to Brother Blood, show him that mutants might sustain him longer... Our power will only grow!" this one with brown hair and a way too neat haircut sounds expectant while he moves to try and beat the woman they've targeted unconscious.

Miss America has posed:
Never staying in one place for long has its advantages.

Inveterate couch-surfer and no-regard vagabond America Chavez is currently what one might call 'in between living situations,' in so much as she's moved off of one person's couch and is about to make her way to the next. It's just the way of things, for her. There's no point in setting down roots, in America's mind, when she might be literally worlds away for an indeterminate amount of time. So she puts what money she scrounges together to better use than trying to find affordable living in New York City:

Getting the best damn falafel she can find this side of Manhattan.

That she sees fit to drag Raven along with her is just because she's that damn friendly.

This is what she can -currently- be found doing the second that explosions roll their trembling, bombastic way down the street. Pausing in the midst of shelling out a handful of crumpled bills for her tinfoil-wrapped treasure, America blinks. Her brows furrow. She frowns.

And then, tattoos at her wrists glowing, she just shoves all those crumpled bills at the vendor, swipes her meal -- and moves directly for the shimmering, five-pointed portal currently manifesting directly behind her.

"Keep it," is all she says to the vendor, waving nonchalantly as she goes. "C'mon."

She lifts one sneaker-clad foot--

--

It's just as that overly zealous, overly Mormon man is moving to attack his blonde-haired target that something abruptly appears directly in front of him: a five-pointed star, glowing blue, roughly six and a half feet in height. It appears, directly between him and the woman, just kind of stays there, shimmering and strange for about three seconds--

--and then abruptly SHATTERS as a red white and blue sneaker SHOVES straight through it, aiming to bury directly into the man's face in a bone-breakingly strong punt.

America Chavez emerges a second later, dressed in a blue tank top, black short shorts, and the most surly frown one can imagine, eyes half-lidding as she lifts her falafel to her lips.

"Okay," she begins, flatly. "We doing this the hard way?"

Raven has posed:
As a Magical Princess, Raven - of course - has a Transformation Sequence.

As a Secretly Evil Magical Princess, it is, rather than sparkling hearts and speed lines, an eruption of shadowy mist and feathers swirling out of her shadow to engulf her and leave her in full Superhero Garb. Which is to say, she goes from looking like someone who's only just left a goth club to looking like someone who's only just left a fetish club.

Her means of transportation is altogether less dramatic than America's, however - her shadow slinks forward to coat the wall of the restaurant, and she simply walks through it. An altogether more relaxed approach to crime fighting and disaster response, she just sort of ... strolls over, walking an inch or two off the ground with a huge, feathered cape drifting behind her.

But let it never be said she isn't /contributing/ to /the cause of justice/ - she lifts her arms up, and razor-sharp feathers made of shadow erupt outward, shredding the tires of over-enthusiastic missionaries' vans.

Boom-Boom has posed:
Star shaped portals, big fit Latina women, and pale goths are usually not something that most cultists or abductors in general would like getting in the way.

The excessively clean cut man's head whipping back with a pretty big spray of blood from his shattered nose. Cartilage bending out of shape and orbital cheekbones crunching hard as he tumbles back end over end into a dumpster.

It takes a moment for the others to realize they might have yet more work to do before they can take their target back and dump it at Brother Blood's feet like cats with captured wildlife.

Of course some of them have to reload but those that don't already take aim and Tabitha's rescuers. The fact that they're trying to take shots with non lethal weaponry against someone that is nigh invulnerable, and the other is able to do some neat telekinetic tricks to avoid being hit may have not dawned on them.

They're absolutely doing it the hard way. To probably everyone's chagrin.

Another of the cultists having just watched his co-conspirator get his clock cleaned just yells. "You idiots, just grab the blonde slut and leave."

The vans at either end of the alley cordoning off Boom-Boom's escape soon becoming an obstacle for the cultists. Tyres pop and hiss with escaping air while already dented and battered from previous attempts at fighting back. A few already out cold in the backs.

The blonde in distress stumbling and flailing her arms to get back on her feet so she can keep fighting. Tranquilizers don't kick in straight away but they do kick in. The pain of the tasers and her own explosions speeding up how fast they take effect. A very slurry tone of speech coming out between some of the foulest swearing that probably would get censored with long sustained presses of the beep button.

"Daaaamn! Kick those asses. Didn't I see you in?..." she probably didn't but either of Raven's outfits would fly in most of the underground clubs Tabby leans into. They wouldn't deny America entrance either.

There's a snappoint to the women but it throws Tabithaoff balance and sends her falling side on into the paved ground of the rather gungy alley underneath her.

Miss America has posed:
Raven keeps it about as casual as a woman in a wrapped up in a dramatically feathered cloak can keep it. It's pretty impressive all things considered.

America keeps it about as disaffected as someone kicking a hole through space can keep it. They both have their merits.

The end result is one cultist down, and their means of escape swiftly dispatched; America finishes stepping through that portal, shards of blue spacetime flowing past her and dissipating into nothing as that opening in the space between things closes once more. A dark, ineffably bland stare turns on the men who are very clearly either here to convert by force or do something even more deeply inappropriate. A brow lifts.

And then they fire on her. Tranqs bounce harmlessly off invulnerably-muscled shoulders as they roll.

"Yeah," she exhales. "Okay."

And when they fire again? America -moves-, free hand sweeping outward to snatch those darts out of mid-air and then -hurl- them back at the ones who fired them, to see how well they deal with their own sedatives.

She's still in the midst of tossing tranquilizers like throwing darts as she calls out to Raven: "So. I need a place to crash for a few days. You mind?"

Like fighting a bunch of Mormons is just about as good as a restaurant to shamelessly ask for favors from a Secretly Evil Disney Princess.

She -does-, at least, toss a glance Tabby's way as she comes to a sneaker-squealing stop just in front of the blonde, brows raised.

"Hey. You good?"

Raven has posed:
"Yes. That is fine."

Like any good Magical Princess, Raven can fly. This proves a great benefit in ushering her to Tabitha's position; she simply ignores the ongoing ruckus while she does so.

Thin tendrils of shadow pluck each dart from the blonde woman's body at the same moment, all of them clattering to the ground. Raven crouches down, a gloved hand pressed to Tabitha's forehead. If Raven pays any cost, it is momentary - the slightest flinch of an otherwise mask-like face, there for only the blink of an eye before it is gone.

And, in return, Tabitha finds herself feeling... fine. Better than fine, in fact, positively energized.

"Hello. Would you like to show your appreciation to these fine gentlemen?"

Boom-Boom has posed:
While most of those darts do next to nothing. Even the taser electrodes just fail to stick when they hit, some do stick in clothes and a couple in that falafel. America is in no danger from either as she collects and starts sending them back.

Those do get yells and twitches as some have the electricity turned back on them and they collapse in a twitchy heap. The ones with drugs, they start slowing faster and faster. Making them easy targets for anything else before they pass out.

Light weights. Tabby might be stoned out of her nugget but she's also a Trailer Park Princess, she's built up a good tolerance over the years.

Tolerance that is. Not immunity.

So when America queries her she rolls up on her knees and one hand.

Three out of all fours. It's a struggle as she does want and not to pass out. She swipes off anything sticking in her that's pointy. A groggy and not fun expression that briefly is replaced by a very impressed expression. These are very attractive women after all. She's stoned, not but not blind. "Westchester... gonna be a ... hell of a commute. May crawl into that..."

That's when Raven starts doing her thing. The darts Tabby missed. Mostly all in her back and behind where she can't reach herself.

The groggy feeling passing as she seems to feel like well. Like how a high should.

"Oooh wow! Daaaamn!" she says again a lot more eager. The tranquilizers had really taken most of any pain. And Raven probably just prevented the hangover.

Picking herself up she smiles to Raven and then to the attackers probably all feeling a lot more like Tabby just was.

"Well I dunno what I'd do to them would be called appreciation." she states and swirls ger arms. A rather massive sized amount of spheres of energy start lighting up the alley.

What hits them sounds a lot like firecracker strings and likely burns flesh with the same intensity. One last bomb the size of a baseball thrown into an open van booming loud turning and curving towards the back with psionic direction.

BOOM!

The van tipping on it's side and burning as it's forcefully blasted to open up the alley.

"You two on the other hand. Appreciation is like straight up underselling what I  owe you the both a ya lovely ladies. I'm Tabitha, but everyone calls me  Boom-Boom. You guys may wanna get out of here. Cops are gonna be swarming soon! Gonna get real awkward I bet!" she says with a grin to the women.

Miss America has posed:
Muscles tense and flex as America Chavez rolls back up to a full stand; the full process is something that can be glimpsed here and there courtesy of the new holes her tank top is sporting courtesy of a few overenthusiastic cultists.

She's used to it by now.

So instead, she focuses on what matters: offering a gruff "Appreciate it, princess" Raven's way as she lifts one Blood Mormon to volley at another Blood Mormon.

She wipes her hand off after, lifts her falafel to take a bite...

Only to find it riddled with taser electrodes and at best overtoasted.

America's eyes narrow towards dangerous slits.

"Mother"
    BOOM
"fucker!"

And America is the most animated she's been all night as she grabs that remaining van that Tabby HASN'T blown up and just up and hurls the thing straight into the sky.

It'll eventually hit a portal to helpfully deliver the whole damn thing to the moon. No one's getting that creeper van back.

In the aftermath, America considers Tabitha, head cocked to the right and hand rubbing one broad shoulder as the blonde speaks. "Boom-Boom, huh," she utters, vaguely thoughtful. Westchester, too. Makes sense.

"How about we give you a ride back to Westchester, and you tell me what you know about these creeps?"

She thinks it's a good deal. Besides -- she's not really a cop person.

Raven has posed:
"Hello, Tabitha. I am Raven."

"She," Raven gestures towards America, "Is 'America.' Her nom de guerre, also, is 'America.'"

A tendril of shadow slips around a dart on the ground; it vanishes into the darkness of her cloak.

"The Titans have no difficulties with temporal law enforcement, but I follow your lead if you wish to flee from them."

Boom-Boom has posed:
Yeeting via super strength gets an impressed half nibble of Tabitha's lower lip. Not that it's new but it's not every day she sees a woman launch stuff. The few she knows at home capable of it kind of skimp on showing off.

"Well about as far as this donut shop near where I live. I'd probably get in a lot of trouble bringing strange but super hot women over. And I think something with a lot of carbs and sugar would be straight awesome right now! So maybe get donuts, then risk being chewed out. I can handle being chewed out." she states and rubs a hand over her own mostly bare and toned abdomen where the hem of her tube top terminates.

Most of these guys are probably going to have a difficult time with the cops since finger prints and forensics on weapons they discharged seemingly at each other kind of gets frowned upon. The introductions given get big bright smiles.

"Titans? Awesome!" the blonde trying to not fan girl. They probably get enough of that from a different blonde back in the Tower.

"So these guys, no clue. Mostly blah blah blah, Blood Brother or some crap. I'm still fuzzy." a mind read probably would get more details from these guys.

Explainations about cultists get made too on the flight. "Think they mentioned something called Triune. Ugh, My stupid dad joined something like that. I think I just got dragged into a pissing contest between cults. Lame. Sure dad, get sober, marry wife number four. Inadvertently get your daughter targeted for some creepy shit. I get enough people targeting me for other shit." she says with a very dismayed tone and a few face palms between Manhattan and Westchester.

"I tell ya, parents can drive ya mad!"