Owner	Pose
Sinister	One has no idea what one has been doing, up to this point. Things occured, earlier. It might have been yesterday, it might have been a week ago, but time is not quite what one might call legitimate in Sinister's world right now. This is why, despite the locale and despite everything that should be telling him to wear his face and behave himself on the ordinary side of the street, Nathaniel Essex is in his full self, crouched down infront of one of the fashion shops along the highstreet of Melville. There's potentially the threat of a news team to follow, but that's a thing of obliviousness to the villain at the moment. Why? Because he is staring at shoes, crouched on his haunches, peeking over the edge of the window frame like a small child staring at Candy in a tuck shop. "I want them. I can have them if I want them." Fingers tap an arpeggio of contact along the sill and he chuckles wickedly to himself. "Shiiiiiiny."
Nikki	When one tends to wander here, there, and back again one never knows where they will end up. Aside from home, but Nikki left home earlier in the morning and her travels have not taken her back to her home just yet. Instead, they have taken her to Melville - and for once not Sunnydale - to perhaps see if she can find anything of interest there. Her robot companion - a slightly clunky put together machine of wonder - rolls along beside her, making the odd boop or beep noise. "Squishy! No! Nikki will eat something later. She's not hungry right now...." This said as she comes up on Sinister, crouched and staring at...shoes. She tilts her head one way and then the other, and then just skips over and crouches with him, staring at the same shoes. "Does the man think the shoes are going to do tricks?"
Sinister	Oh, ideas. Red eyes slowwwwwwwly slide sideways, peering out their corners at the shape next to him. "Man thinks shoes are magic shoes. Look!" He looks back at the shoes and they dance. Jiggle, tap dance, charley chaplain heels to toes, ball change and back to their spot. "Magic. Shoes." He whispers that. The robot becomes a thing peripherally aware of and he looks that way. "Oh, sparky. Gyroscopic stabilizers. Rolly poly but clonk. I make those, too. NObody likes them." He hunkers down again, bringing his nose to the very edge of the sill. "Maybe I should get slippers. And a smoking jacket. Or a suit that's got metallic threads... that would be even shinier."
Nikki	There's almost a squeal of delight when the shoes start dancing in that jiggle wiggle tap kind of way. Nikki - who is clearly older than she is acting - makes a sound, claps her hands and then looks over to the red-eyed man. "Can the red-eye man do any other tricks? Nikki thinks he made the shoes dance. But that still makes them magic shoes, just with man's magic." She nods. Then he's explaining Squishy and Nikki beams. "Squishy is Nikki's creation. He's the only thing Nikki has made with success of it working, so it makes him special." She offers and then listens to Sinister as he talks more about clothing? "...Is the red-eyed man okay? Does Nikki need to go get help?"
Sinister	Sinister whispers his response. "There's no helping me. They haven't got any medicine that can cure me," a finger goes to touch his lips, lifts it up and waggles it side to side, as sirens sound in the distance. He looks up, over that way, tilts his head. "Ooops," back to this strange person that talks in the third person. It makes perfect sense in his world right now, which is not something sober Sinister would be able to wrap his head around. "Did you AI? Or AIeeeee? You know there's a difference." He points at the robot then, by indication. "One part genius, four parts blind luck, one part hitting it with a spanner." Pause "Don't tell anyone that."
Nikki	"Nikki knows people who might help without medicine. One is Romanian Man. He helped Nikki search for stuff inna dumpster one night." Nikki explains this, without thought of relations, while still staring at the shoes as if they'd move again. "Nikki also met Stoop Man. He was weird. They hung outside this...Magic Store." She offers further in explanation. Then she's being asked about Squishy again and she seems to go confused. "Nikki just squished parts together until all the parts worked. That's why Squishy is Squishy. He's made from squished parts." She nods, like what she's saying makes perfect sense. "Nikki learned a lot in school, and now she tries to make things but nothing really ever works. Except Squishy. He kinda works."
Sinister	Sinister holds up finger and thumb infront of one red eye. He peeks through the tiny gap, then closes it. "Squish!" Nodding, he looks at his fingertips for a moment, then looks around, across the street, repeats this motion with a public garbage can. "Squish!" It goes flat as a pancake, crumpling up in record time. "Fun word. Onomatopeic. It is what it sounds like. Squish! ONly that wasn't a squish. Maybe I should look for a squish." He looks around, settles on a person avoiding them on the other side of the street and holds his hand out, fingers soooooooo close together. "Squ'**hicc** Oh, for... Squ**HIC!** No fair. Sq'HIC!"
Nikki	Nikki watches Sinister for a long moment while he tries to find things to squish. A trash can across the street crumples and Nikki blinks a couple of times. "The trash can went crunch!" She calls out, which would bring attention to them if anyone was around to listen. "Red-eyed man maybe find a cake? Or...something squishy...like a stuffed animal!" Though she doesn't follow his gaze, she does notice when he can't quite say the word squish. "Red-eyed man has the hiccups? Nikki will go get some water! Water helps hiccups!"
Sinister	"Cosmo**Hic**Logical! Not fair. THis isn't even you! It's not! I know it's not. Squ*HIC** FUCK!!!" Sinister doesn't often swear, when he does it's a very gutteral anglo saxon kind of sound. He gets up, attempting to walk it off. They're intermittant hiccups, also, only coming out when he's trying to say something potentially diabolical and/or detrimental to the moment. All the while, the sirens sound like they're getting closer. "Water. Yes, water is good. It works on hiccups. Does it work on other things? Witches. Works on witches, in hollywood."
Dracula	The elder vampire is amused. This is not a thing that happens overly often across the length of his existence, but it happens to be the case of this particular moment. The squishing of the items at random -- or more specifically the manner in which it's being done -- has Dracula trying very hard not to outright laugh. He has a particular vantage point, at the moment. He's perched on a rooftop, in a shadow there, and garbed entirely in black, leaning back slightly against the dark brick of the building. Watching, and listening. And pondering just how and if he can or should mess about with this particular situation. A smile teases at the corners of his lips. The fingers of his right hand move just a touch, and the garbage can that was squished now pops back into its proper shape as though it hadn't been a pancake a moment before. Then he makes a slight gesture of his fingers and mud starts to ooze out of a couple of yards, burbling and slithering, coagulating and gathering together and tumbling over itself and starting to sprout weird shaped arms and legs. And a head, misshapen and with worms wriggling out of it for hair. White stones for eyes.
Nikki	Nikki nods and stands up straight, about to go and fetch some water thinking Sinister might actually want some when she glances across the street. Right at that same time, the trash can is no longer a pancake and Nikki gives a blink. She then looks as something catches her eye from nearby yards. Oozing bubbling mud that then sprouts arms..legs...a head... "Uhm...uhm...Does the red-eyed man see what Nikki sees? Cause Nikki sees mud people..." She's actually going after Sinister from noticing he's stalked off, even so far as reaching and tugging on his jacket/cloak/shirt whatever he might be wearing. Before completely tucking behind him that that'll save her from whatever is coming up from the ground. Squishy just gives a series of beep-boops and rolls along.
Sinister	"Confounded, meddling, annoying, get out of my head, right now! This is MY head. Mine!" POinting at his temple, Sinister stops advancing when the decompression of the trash can occurs. He stops, turns slowly and stares at it. "No." Again, the peeking through the gap between finger and thumb, about to squash the can flat, when he has that slorrrrrping sound and frantic tugs on his cloak. It's a very specific and interesting kind of cloak and the sirens can't be more than a couple of blocks away now. Two of the ribbon lengths of it recoil from being grabbed, as if they feel affronted, but the one she grabbed doesn't. "What?" turning. "AUGH! Homonculus! No. Ah! GOLEM! RUN!" He flails arms, doesn't move an inch and looks behind himself, then at the little trundling robot. He looks up at the roof of Lux, can see nothing untoward, thanks to shadow magic and looks back at mud person. "NO squish?" This asked of NIkki, he sighs, holds both hands infront of himself and claps. **SPLAT**
Dracula	The faintest whisper of air wafts by between Sinister and Nikki, and it breathes 'Sssshhhhh' in what is intended to be a soothing tone, but which likely comes across as creepy given that it's disembodied. Further away, mud burbles up out of the ground, pulling itself together and forming into three more mudmen. And then, it starts to happen with a couple of the yards behind them, making two more there. And that one, across the street. Except the one across the street is more dog shaped than person shaped. They shamble, they shuffle, with no apparent intelligence of their own. The latter is proven when one of them stops to gnaw on a fire hydrant. Omnomnom! Vlad stares at that one for a long moment, he does. Then he turns his gaze back to Nathaniel and Nikki. For a moment, he watches them. And the robot Squishy. And he does nothing more than wait, letting a few precious seconds tick right on by. Then he teleports, winking out of existence on the rooftop and appearing perhaps five feet or so behind them. He wears a long peacoat in black, a black on black paisley patterned shirt with a crimson pocket square, black slacks and black shoes. His eyes are that deep dark brown, and his hair is black, the length brushing his shoulders. "Ah, Nathaniel," he offers in greeting, a smile touching at the corners of his lips. "And Nikki and Squishy as well," he adds, inclining his head towards them. He seems oblivious to the mudmen... mud creations. He acts entirely as though he hasn't seen or noticed them. The splatted one, meanwhile, is starting to pull itself back together. Slowly. Splorp, splorp.
Nikki	Nikki watches as Sinister stops, and is about to squish the trash can again when she's warning him about the mud people. To which he seems to...have a bit of a break down over. Is he telling her to run? She doesn't run though, she does sort of tilt her head while watching Sinister sort of freak out before he then claps his hands together, looking across the street to see mud person go splat. Then more are emerging, and the one that went splat is starting to reform itself. Though before Nikki could freak out much more she hears that sort of ethereal 'shhh' in her head, which actually works in calming her down a bit. Then, a few moments later, she hears a familiar voice in her head and turns to look. "Romania Man!" She turns and makes way over to Vlad, but in a sort of hiding behind him kind of way. "The red-eyed man is acting a little funny, but he doesn't want help. Nikki tried to offer him help but he doesn't want it. How is Romania Man?"
Sinister	And THIS is when the cops show up and they do so with five or so cars, forming a cordon on the other end of the street. DOors are opened, guns are trained, but they don't appear to know where to look; at the strange red-eyed man in costume, at the relatively ordinary antiquated gentleman, the girl with her robot or the arm of mud men. That appears to cement the deal. "HANDS UP! DROP YOUR WEAPONS!" "I don't have any weapons. I could, if... no, wait... no I don't want to be... wait. What face have I got on?" he asks this as he turns about to speak to Nikki and Vlad and is promptly shot in the back. He looks down at his chest, stares for a moment and looks back at the cops with a bad look on his face. "Now I have no desire at all to help them with mud. I'm just going to watch. SO there."
Dracula	One of his eyebrows quirks up slightly at the greeting from Nikki, and he inclines his head a touch towards her. It's not inaccurate, after all. His home has become Romania, even though that's not what it was called in the year that he was born. "Oh? A little funny in what way?" Vlad asks, a touch of curiosity to his voice. As if he hasn't already witnessed some of it! "I am doing well, thank you. And for yourself?" he asks, tilting his head just a touch to one side. His gaze lingers on her for a moment before turning towards Nathaniel. So much for the fun he was having! "Dracului naibii," he grouses. 'Fucking hell', in Romanian, for those who are familiar. He'd heard the police approaching, and it had only been a matter of time. One of his eyebrows quirks upwards a touch as his gaze turns towards the police cars. And the police. He holds up his hands, turns them one way and the other, wiggles his fingers. "See? No weapons," he offers, a smile turning at the corners of his lips. He claps his hands together and there's a deeper sound -- feel? -- like a reverberation of thunder clapping where the sound travels out to a certain distance before roiling back to him. The mud creations all splorp to the ground when the wave of it touches them, as though they'd had nary a life to them at all. The fire hydrant ends up covered in mud from the one that was gnawing on it. He turns his hands ninety degrees to one another, and then slowly draws them apart. Darkness ripples out from him, seeming to thicken, becoming a palpable presence within the area around them. And his dark eyes flicker crimson as he looks from one to another of the cops before his gaze settles upon the officer nearest to him, seeking to make eye contact with the fellow. His heels make a faint click, and then he starts to step forward, slow and graceful. "Tell me, sheep," he says in a dark voice, "Which of you would care to die first?"
Sinister	Sinister stands watching this, unable to quite detach himself from the stoned state he's in, this is like being at a flicker show and at any moment Boris Carlov is going to be upstaged by the real deal. His back oozes a bit and because human beings have a protocol and non-human beings ALSO have a protocol, when nepharious things are occuring, the police don't mess around. More shots are fired, none of which really do very much but to annoy. Radio chatter can be heard nevertheless, of the cops calling in ST action (Supernatural THreat) trying to get back-up. "OOOooohhhhh," from Sinister, he floats up, over, into the line of cops and places a hand on the nearest car, is shot twice more at point blank range, before the radios all start to play easy listening. He tilts his head, frowns, is shot /again/ and it switches to death metal and the vehicle he's touching starts to bounce up and down, like it's on springs. "He really will eat you. Me, I don't care for eating people, but he? He's eaten nations. Very bad. Very bad. Doesn't add ketchup, just goes right on in there. Call this in and get out of here, you have to get the swat teams in. With the thingies that make us all go down like cards... or you know..." he smiles "...don't make us go down like cards."
Dracula	As the radio chatter comes across, Vlad tilts his head a touch to one side. He exhales a breath, and then he lifts his right hand to make a slight gesture. One police car tumbles over onto another police car, roof matching to roof, and then the top car crushes the bottom one. There is a hint of a cold smile that touches his lips, and his gaze meets that of one of the police officers. There is a mental suggestion made, and it's enough to have him turn to one of the other officers to shoot them dead. "Ah, the mind of the sheep. So simple to turn and bend to one's will," Vlad says softly, darkly. He also gets shot it, and though he doesn't care about bullets or the damage that they can do to his physical self, he dodges the bullet easily. "Ketchup sullies the flavour of perfectly good blood," he comments, a smile curling at the corners of his lips. He glances towards Nathaniel, a hint of amusement to his gaze, and then he turns his gaze back towards the police. He looks from one to the next of the officers, and then he tilts his head a touch to one side as he focuses on one of the officers. "You will do quite nicely," Vlad says softly. And then, he swiftly closes on the officers, grabs the man's hair with one of his hands and tilts it to one side before biting the fellow's neck, to drink the officer dry.
Sinister	At this point, it's all for one and one for all, to beat a hasty, hasty retreat. It is going to cause some stir in Melville, because this sort of thing doesn't regularly happen; Two cops dead, two vehicles crushed, impossible reactions from those that escaped. Nathaniel leaves Dracula to his meal, looking up and around at the CCTVs. He ponders them for a long while and attempts, whilst cars scramble, to get his brain to cooperate with him. He floats up to one of the cameras on posts and lays his hand against it, staring off into the middle distance. Where all of that is recorded, will come a very surreal chop piece, involving a splice of Sesame street and an empty chair in a middle of a room, stark light and a spider spinning a web over the camera lens. Psychadelic CCTV feeds, which he spread out, zoned where he floats, altering the feeds of everything nearby.
Dracula	Once he's finished with his 'meal' of the officer, he lets the body fall to the ground in a tumble. Then Vlad straightens, and he slowly flicks his tongue out over his lips. Tasty. But not as tasty as either Nathaniel or Lucifer have proven to be. He turns away in order to look from one to another of the officers, his fangs gleaming red with blood. After eyeing each of the remaining officers now in their retreat, his gaze falls upon Nathaniel, to watch him floating and touching one of the CCTV cameras. His eyes flicker crimson, and then he lightly rises from the ground in order to float over to join the man there. The shadows linger thick in the air, though they will eventually dissipate. And the mud from the 'monsters' creeps and oozes back to the yards from whence they came. And he offers his left hand out, with his palm up. "Watching my back, are you? And where wouldst thou care to venture next?" he asks, a smile quirking at the corners of his lips. The peacoat he'd been wearing shifts and flickers, changing into a black cloak with a darker than blood red lining.
Sinister	Sinister stares at the proffered hand a moment, a long moment indeed. Everything is still just skewed off at a strange tangent for him, so he closes his eyes, reaches out and places a hand into that of Dracula's. The result of this, for reasons unknown is that one of the CCTV cameras in the vicinity explodes in a puff of sparks and fritzing and the streetlights all burn out in a one block radius. "I was trying. Methinks, it will simply be inexplicable, as I don't think... whatever I did was quite right. Nevertheless," that weird recording then the brownout, is likely enough to make for a problematic clean-up when the City comes on by to fix the area, along with the extra response teams that no doubt will arrive. "I feel... we ought not to make more trouble for Lucifer, in his neck of the woods. THe last thing he needs is prying detectives or rogue shoe salesmen. I want shoes, VLadimir. I have a -mad- craving for shoes."
Dracula	There's a dark laugh that comes from the elder vampire at the shower of sparks from one of the cameras. His fingers softly close around Nathaniel's after the hand is given into his care, and he inclines his head towards the fellow. Lifting his free hand, he makes a slight gesture towards the fritzed camera in order to cause the short-circuited power to hop to another of the cameras. It will make for a interestingly strange report when it's given. "Inexplicable happens to be most delightful, Nathaniel," Vlad says, a smile curling at the corners of his lips. There's a glance towards Lux, and then his attention shifts back to Nathaniel before he gives a nod of agreement. "We have, perchance, caused a question or three to be aimed in his relative direction. Given our proximity to his club," he comments, sounding a touch amused at that. One of his eyebrows quirks, and he gives a nod then. "So long as you are not intending to eat the shoes, then I shall take thee to the best shoe emporium that there is," he promises. "Your wish is my done deed." The shadows come close and near, and in a wink -- that is exactly what Vlad does. For there are, in the next moment, row upon row, shelf upon shelf, of shoes in all imaginable sizes and shapes and styles.