15274/But what IS it

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But what IS it
Date of Scene: 30 June 2023
Location: Masonic Cemetery, Sunnydale (TBD)
Synopsis: Summary needed
Cast of Characters: Sinister, Juggernaut

Sinister has posed:
Sunnydale. A city notorious for stowing a whole lot of things that really shouldn't be where anyone could actually touch them, in diabolically bad places.

Like cemetaries, that tend to be filled with the dead, but here? Also the undead. And other things even less savory. But at least the locals usually don't bother anyone at the wee hours.

It's near the witching hour, because you NEVER do nefarious deeds in the middle of the day, or catch nefarious types DOING said things in the sunshine, bright and high. But what IS going on?

Sinister is perching. He's actually remarkably good at that, crouched on top of a rather large crypt, watching a smaller one across the way. He has wings out, big black feathered things, which possibly helps him camouflage as a statue, for all he's not moving much. But he has a cellphone in the palm of one hand an occasionally is glancing at it. That's probably how a text message went out to Juggernaut at least. GOT A JOB. NOT A HARD ONE. BUT ITS BREAKING, ENTERING AND RETRIEVAL. IF INTERESTED, FOLLOW THE GPS. ~NE~

There are definitely things in here though, that are not nice. But probably nowhere near not as nice as those that might be appearing.
Juggernaut has posed:
Time passes since the message goes out. No response. Perhaps too much time. Is he busy? Distracted? On another job? Or just ..not interested? Then Emojis:

:fist: :muscle: :juggy: otw

Yes, he's got his own emoji. What else are you going to do when you have extra cash other then get your own emoji designed.

Eventually this response is made good on with actual action. Time has passed as, after all, the man can't teleport, but he does arrive on the outskirts of the cemetary. He's not exactly incognito per se though he's not the full on semi-truck cab with arms and legs that is usually associated with Juggernaut..but he is armored. His helmet held in a massive hand and his skullcap covering hsi head.

Upon taking full note of his location he frowns and checks the GPS again. "The hell is going on here?" There is a pause to consider if this was a mistake or not..and then he enters, his heavy footfalls cruching against the ground and rumbling through the area like a distant earthquake.
Sinister has posed:
It's fair to assume that the emoji caused a spocked eyebrow and a silent chuckle. Truth, it isn't something that -Sinister- would do, but Cain isn't Nate, he's his very own incredibly potent cocktail that needed to be a cartoon of himself. Makes for easy communique, that's certain, although emojispeak would probably get the scientist baffled after a few. Old geezers and all that.

The arrival has the statue of Sin moving just a little, turn of the head kind of thing. "I've run into a situation I was not expecting and need something out of -there-..." Sinister points toward the crypt. "I can't get in. Which by the by, I find vastly peculiar." He hops clear, glides to the ground and the wings fold with a featherwhirr snap as he approaches the door. "Watch," putting his fingertip against the stone portal, the end starts to smoke. "It's the most vexxing thing."
Juggernaut has posed:
There is a creaking sound like that of industrial strength leather being pulled and stretched as the Juggernaut enlarges. His muscles literally audible as they pile mass and sinew ontop of his each other. His Cyttorak empowered physique bulking out and enlarging vastly as if being hewn from a mountain range by the pressure of the power surging within.

His expression looking mildly..displeased..isn't exactly a cmmforting look either. "Whaddya mean you can't get in. You called me here for this? Aint you a world class telekinetic? Or did I get the wrong wikipedia entry.."

Crimson light flashes as he sets his helmet onto his head and it seals itself and locks into place.

Truth is he's got nobody to blame for being here but himself. He -did- answer after all.

He was bored.

"What is that then? Some sort of forcefield? What's in there?" he asks, taking a few steps forward.
Sinister has posed:
"According to the research, it's a reliquary. It's supposed to contain the bones of a couple of venerable missionaries that became entirely lost in the fact that they ended up here -- A Brother Jeremiah though, was apparently a dab hand at metalwork. He got buried with a few items I want to get my hands on, but..."

Sinister's lips press hard together, because yes, this IS embarassing and frankly, the man doesn't like to be embarassed much. Who does? Certainly not him. He gestures his hand forward, red light limning the tomb, which counters with a significant blue light. "I would not have called you, if I had the capability of counteracting it. Honestly, it'll be interesting if -you- have trouble getting in, too. It'll make those articles in there just that much more intriguing, don't you think?"

He looks up. And up. And up a bit more. "You know," he gestures up and down. "That never gets old."
Juggernaut has posed:
"Count yerself lucky. Most folk don't see it." notes Juggernaut, "Murder on havin' a broad enough spectrum of clothes though. I would just stay this size all the time but you know..I like going to the bar and strip clubs still and actually getting in the door without just knocking the walls down. Unless I'm in a bad mood."

He rests his massive fists against his hiups and looks at the tomb again.

"Huh.. Lemme guess. You're 'evil' and the tomb doesn't like that."

He seems pretty genre savvy but then again he is the avatar of a magical entity that some consider a demon itself.

"So you want me to desecrate a tomb for you... You know, that aint exactly something I take lightly. I have -some- scruples and respet for the dead.... Make it worth my time. You gonna tell me what the items are?'
Sinister has posed:
"Well... desecrate is a rather harsh term, but essentially, I suppose. It'll be very egyptian. Tomb raiding, even." He sniffs at the label he was given though. "I have a feeling it's slightly more complex than that, but I doubt whatever warding got put on that differentiates terribly much. I am coming to appreciate that magic can be very... annoying at times."

There's a hesitancy. A moment of consideration and due process for the issues at hand. "I imagine that Broad and Tall doesn't cover you for industrial strength spandex, either. A pity. There'd be a market for it, although I imagine you'd be at the harder end of being properly measured out by their tailors." He glances up again, up some more and flicks the black wings.

A throatclear. "One is a map-maker's sestant, of all things. The other is a puzzle box of a kind. It should be about the size of a rubix cube."
Juggernaut has posed:
The behemoths arms are folded. Massive pillars of flesh that have the girth of swamp trees with boulders sewn into them. He listens, the shadows of his helmet casing his mouth and eyes in complete darkness, aided by the lighting here in the cemetary so needless to say it could be an aptly intimidating presence that just sort of glowers and listens to Sinister's explanation without too much emotional response.

When Essex finishes, The Juggernaut doesn't move for a full minute, processing this all and silent aside from the creaking swell of his torso as he takes slow heavy breathes. Then:

"I'm gonna regret this, aren't I.."

Hie lets his arms fall to his sides and he takes a few steps for the indicated entrance...

"Stand back."
Sinister has posed:
"One does have to love when atmospherics and environment just add to the moment," there's mild admiration in the tone, at least for the aesthetics of things. Sinister inclines his head, just sort of... floating backwards several feet and throwing one hand in a semi-circle. Red glow once again manifests, this time in a shield of sorts. "I imagine the potential is definitely there," -- there's a snarl then, from one of the less locked-up tombs nearby, which is swiftly strangled -- "That's enough out of you. No interruptions, you wouldn't like me when you interrupt." He doesn't even look, fixed far too interestedly on the potentially spectacular event about to occur.

It does LOOK like a relatively ordinary crypt door, a few carvings, made of what looks like granite and a peculiar triple keyhole. It would probably be helpful if there was a key to match the aformentioned keyhole, but alas. If doors could stare though, this dread portal would have the kind of look that a feral tomcat gives. One that has had its fair share of fights. This after all, IS Sunnydale. You can't swing a handbag about without hitting something infernal or generalized nasty.

"Let me know if you feel anything peculiar won't you? For posterity and observation's sake."
Juggernaut has posed:
A rumbling *thooom* resounds as Juggernaut's massive palm slams up against the door of the tomb. The entire area shakes and rumbles, echoing with the force of his push.

He arcs a eyebrow slightly, sensing..something..but it doesn't seem to force him off or backwards. He cotinues pushing and pressing forward..and almost instantly cracks begin appearing int he structure and the foundation of the earth.

The rumbling continues, plumes of debris bursting up from the ground as if the very earth was seeking to reinforce the tomb and was being moved by the behemoths casual press. And yet.

"Huh. This' got aq trick up its sleeve. I'm trying to not just tear the place apart..."

Indeed..he could have just thundered ahead into it like a freight trai or an asteroid hurtled from on high but this more slow methodical approach, for the sake of keeping the structure intact as opposed to collapsing it all togethe, is yielding some interestig results as the tomb fights against him and he presses forward.

The walls and doors begin to buckle but still hold as the giant takes another step. His physique seems to swell larger as more force is applied.

"Well, well, well.." he rumbles to himself..slowly grinning, "I guess I'm gonna have to take up just a little bit more.."

His other hand clenches. A massive boulder of a fist with his knuckles cracking louder then the rumble of the splintering earth.
Sinister has posed:
If he ate popcorn, or watched action movies, Sinister would be having a thrilling time about now.

As it is, the scientist's focus drifts casually to the manifestations of the power of Strength incarnate. His hand holding the phone, slowly drifts in a generalized semi-circle, repeating the process seven more times as he walks 'the line in the sand' that he staked, back a ways from Juggernaut. Calibrating and triangulating three dimensional space? Quite probably. Measuring the gravitas, or at least the richter scale here.

"It does appear to be fighting back. Oddly enough, I'm glad it wasn't just me. But you my dear, are beyond anything that mere mortal magic and masonry can resist. It would be a darned shame if it crumbled though. It looks as if it was originally templar in design, or mimicking it."

Science. A whole lot of 'ology' under his belt, Sinister does have an earnest /wealth/ of knowledge in that head of his. If he was kinder, the world might actually benefit more. But baby steps, mmm? He at least let the geneticists in on a few tricks and watched disaster happen from a distance.

"Everything I think, has a threshold, even this kind of thing, from observations. I'd imagine that it's currently sitting at two kilometers beneath the surface of the sea kind of pressures. At what point does a ward implode?"