Owner	Pose
Rory Sakura	An invitation arrived in Vorpal's mail, holding tickets for two for an art show by Roark Sakura. And, somehow, delivered by an imp that stinks of chaos, a certain young fellow who also does magic, is handed an envelope with an invitation as well. Though the imp snickered and vanished before it could be interrogated as to why it chose him. This is Oishi Gallery, a beautiful name for a horrible littel hole in the wall, but Bludhaven doesn't have the same kind of high-concept fancy gallery space that Gotham boasts. It's in a downtown spot, a single-story storefront that was once part of a chain store, a Penney's or some such, but it was cut up for different stores and rat-or-worse-infested apartments above it. Now it's black-painted windows with boards behind and chicken wire in front, and a stark but clean interior, once you get past the curtains and barriers that separate the front lobby from the presentation rooms. A small crowd of about ten to thirteen people swarms in the lobby, where the free wine and skimpy snacks play to the "artsy" crowd in Bludhaven, such as it is. The presentation room for Japan Ink is set up as a series of small pallets on floors. On each pallet, a person sits, ten of them wearing traditional yakuza-style tattoos, sleeves and part sleeves, and five have full-body ink but not traditional subjects. Then there are ten others, painted or tattooed, with six of these being regular gaijin -- westerners -- wearing ornate, highly realistic ink or paint. A tall young man in traditional Kimono sits in the midst of the gaijin. He has no knowledge that his delivery monster just tossed the mail he was entrusted to the most potent magic-smelling people it happened across.
Wiccan	The imp's appearance caught Billy totally by surprise so that by the time he thought of a way to try and stop the messenger, it was too late. The invitation itself was magically inspected before it was opened and there was a bit of surprise when it turned out to be an invitation to an art show. Maybe he shouldn't be surprised, but precaution was taken as he arrived at the address. The invitation was brought with him and he's doing his best to be aware of any magic that might be bandied about.
Vorpal	Ticket for two? the Cheshire cat was not surprised at the invitation- he knew Rory, of course. He enjoyed a lot of Rory's paintings, they made for great places to hang out. His choice of plus one was not hard- he and Gar were trying to patch things through and see where things were going. A gallery outing was just the social thing to do. He doesn't bother with traffic, a Rabbit Hole is capable of taking them there. The hole in the fabric of reality opens to reveal the Cheshire cat, clad in an aubergine tuxedo, tie playfully undone and hanging from his neck. He steps through, the showy method of arrival no doubt drawing every eye in the room, and he turns back to offer his arm to his date. "Mister Logan," he grins. His arrival reeks of chaos magic to those who are sensitive to such things.
Beast Boy	Out of the rabbit hole stepped out Gar Logan, AKA Beast Boy. The green human grins from ear to ear, clad in a tux of his own, white with a red shirt and a white bow tie. He was dressed to the nines, complete with a matching white top hat with a red band. "Mister Hunter." He comments in his fancy voice. There's no mustache on his face, but there sure should be one, a nice handlebar waxed to the gods. "Indoubitably!" He proclaims, for no good reason.
Rory Sakura	In the background, now lit by overhead spotlights, a potentially gruesome display can be seen. There are twenty mannequins, which have been draped with what appears to be the flayed skins of twenty humans, each adorned by ink and markings much more ornate and elegant than even the most gorgeous of the Yakuza-styled works. The docent leads groups of between three and seven people into the viewing room, for up to ten minutes, before they are sent out to make room for the next group. Meanwhile, in the alley behind the gallery, a whispered conversation takes place in heavily-New-Jersey-accented Japanese. //"Do you have the bag?"// //"Yeah, but there's live people in there too."// //"Don't sweat it, guido. Are we not Clan Hashimoto? We can do this!"// Inside the presentation area, a smile crosses the face of the kimono-clad gentleman who is currently painting a small image of an Oni dancing, on a scroll. Two of the current group look at the flayed skins, and one of them reaches out. "Do not touch those, If you please," the tall young man in the kimono says. "They're cursed. Also, they're alarmed and we have security cameras." They don't actually have security cameras, but they might have something worse. The docent hurries the group out, and wouldn't you know it, the next group includes the purple-clad fellow, the one with green skin, and possibly the odd-man-out, who somehow came by himself. The path to the display space through a selection of curtains and paper walls, does a left turn, a right turn, and a left turn, in order to reach the display area with its living, and non-living, displays.
Wiccan	Wiccan is woefully underdressed, he finds, as he steps into the room with the exhibit. Despite being from Manhattan, he never really attended fancy Art galler openings...so had no idea what to wear! It's easily remedied, however, with a few murmured words and some magic. While a tuxedo just isn't really his style, he'll at least 'change' into his costume...it's a little more unique and mysterious, minus the cape and head-dress for now. It can always be added if needed. After all, he -is- a disciple of Dr. Strange...surely a unique outfit wouldn't be too far out of place. There's a blink at the two others who end up in his group, both of them getting a longer look than might be considered polite for random strangers. Maybe it's their appearance...or maybe it's the magic. As they're led into the room with the cursed display, his attention is immediately turned to that with a gasp. "Oh, my god..." what has he been invited to? Dark eyes flicker back over to the man in the kimono before he looks to those in his group, "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" That question could have multiple answers.
Vorpal	At first, Vorpal takes the glances in stride. He is, basically, an anthropomorphic Cheshire Cat (*the* Cheshire cat, at that), and he is currently being seen in public at the arm of a well-known superhero and Hollywood celebrity. But soon there is a lot more to stare at... While the art is exquisite, and there is no denying the skill of the artist, there is also no denying or ignoring the nature of the medium in which it is depicted. The Cheshire cat leans in closer to Gar, his eyes on the disturbing work, clearly intending to say something... but Wiccan manages to take the words right out of his mouth. Tommy looks at Wiccan, giving him a quick appraisal and taking in his costume at a glance, briefly wondering if he is 'one of us' or just a very snazzy avant-garde fashionista. "That's... human," Tommy answers in a whisper, quietly, drawing Gar in so he can hear as well. "This is not right." The Cheshire cat turns towads the docent. "By what method was this... artwork acquired?" he asks.
Beast Boy	"Hey guy! How ya doin'?" Beast Boy asks Wiccan, and the young man makes his way with them. "I totally thought we were gonna be best dress-holy drokk!" The fun mood of having a rather good looking guy on his arm was killed once they saw the exhibits. "Umm. You know Moon Moon? This must be what his room looks like..." Obviously he has an opinion on Dan.   "Can that be...I mean it can't be real? Nah it's real." He says with a sigh, disappointed but not shocked.
Rory Sakura	"These," the docent says, "are the bequest of a family of Japanese businessmen, an old family. They were taken two centuries ago, as a result of a fight between two families, one that was engineered by a third family. The story is in the pamphlet for sale in the lobby, but in brief, it is a sad tale of betrayal and love. The bodies of the retainers of both families were destroyed by a monster that left behind only their skins." Roark has kept his face perfectly serious while focusing on his painted oni art piece, and his models are talking very quietly betwixt themselves. Puffs of smoke erupt into the room, and swiftly-moving black-clad figures dart back and forth ... but whatever they are, they're gone within an instant. A rolled tatami mat is dropped to the floor from somewhere overhead, and unrolls to display a suddenly glowing pattern of distinctly magical symbols. There's a whispering folowed by a spate of brief cries of pain or surprise, and the fifteen Japanese people who are wearing actual tattoos are suddenly not moving, but their eyes are wide and look faintly panicked. There are thin needles sticking out of various places on their bodies, but not in any kind of significant pattern -- and if one can well enough to discern it, there is a stink of bitter herb from them. Meanwhile, the ten examples of recent Japanese paint and the kimono-clad fellow also sprout thin needles ... the fellow in the kimono puts down his brush while the ten "exhibits" freeze, then six of them ... the snake on the woman, and the tigers painted on the five men, begin to move over their bodies. The Kimono man removes the needles from his skin and picks up what looks like an iron hexagon-shaped baseball bat with knobs on the faces, and stands UP. He's very tall. "Now we're getting somewhere," he says. And the mannequins with the skin draped on them? Those begin to move. They're not magic. They're ... alive? From somewhere in the dark a New Jersey-accented voice says in Japanese, //"What da fok?? Guido, grab da skins, we gotta go!"// From the unrolled tatami mat, a burst of black-shadow ninja shapes erupts into the room.
Wiccan	Billy looks behind him as he's greeted before giving Gar a 'Who, me?' look. "Uhm, hi..." is offered a little tentatively, but then the conversation goes back to the artwork and exhibit. "Do I know who? I just got this invitation..." and yet he showed up. Maybe Strange hasn't reached the lesson of accepting invitations from strange Fae. And this is probably why. As things begin to erupt into chaos, another murmured word causes Wiccan's cloak to appear about his shoulders, and he flicks the hood up to shade his features some. A hand is held out and there is the blue glow of his magic as he commands, "Stop!" It's not for long, but it might give him a chance to assess the situation. Dark eyes flicker to the docent and the ones who have been frozen by the needles. He chews his lip briefly before announcing, "BeSafeBeSafeBeSafe" towards those that seem to be caught in the cross-fire. Time then starts back up again.
Vorpal	"Of course," Vorpal says, "I shouldn't have expected a regular night on the town." As the Ninja shapes erupt into the room, Vorpal whispers "Close yours eyes for five seconds!" to Beast Boy and, hopefully, their companion can hear him. The reason for it is that he conjures up one of his favorite illusions- 'Haunted House Spinning Tunnel #12'- whereby the entire room becomes a vortex tunnel of swirling purple, magenta and blue lights converging around a central black hole. Guaranteed to send anyone to the ground, or at least to cause them severe loss of balance unless they closed their eyes. Five seconds, he judges, is enough for the illusion to leave people dizzy and allowing them the upper hand... He hopes.
Beast Boy	Gar tossed his top hat to the side, closing his eyes for the asked for five seconds. During that time he had started to change, into a green tiger, still with eyes closed. The tiger got to all fours and was already starting to growl. "Five!" He yells, opening his eyes and letting out a roar. He paced around, putting himself between Vorpal and Wiccan as they do their magic.
Rory Sakura	"Hammer time" the tall guy in the Kimono mutters, while around them, the frozen people disappear, the needles dropping from where their bodies were. They reappear elsewhere ... at a safe location, but for now it's probably only Billy who knows that this is the case. The moment time starts up again, the shadow-shapes begin leaping at the remaining people in the room, and the dramatic lighting in the room which contains far too much black and stark white, reveals that the shadow-shapes are wielding daggers, swords, and three-pronged sai as striking weapons at the remaining folk. Of course there's a light-show immediately after, but the shades seem peculiarly unimpressed, as if they don't actually see with eyes. It works to delay the immediate onslaught, but it only seems to distract the tall kimono-clad guy as a veritable rain of the needles come flying at him, and it leaves him with a porcupine-like affect. He tips over, hand grazing the painting he was working on. Meanwhile, back to the Ninjas of Clan Hashimoto: There are three similarly shadowed figures, not actually made of shadow like the ones attacking Vorpal and Billy and Gar, and they've forced one of the skin-covered mannequins into what looks a lot like a burglar's bag, except that whatever goes in? The bag remains flat. The image of the Oni leaps out of the page, and picks up the iron club that the Kimono-guy dropped. And the snake, and the five tigers, finish wrapping around their wearers, who have now become snakes and tigers, respectively. They roar in unison, and the snake coils and leaps up into the rafters above, vanishing into the darkness. The ninjas ... pause. //"Whut."//
Wiccan	Wiccan starts time up again in time to hear the quiet instruction to close his eyes...or look away. He does and counts to five before looking back and seeing the Oni and friends. "Whoa..." is murmured before he looks about as if trying to figure out what to do. His hands continue to glow with that blue magic and he holds them up, as if taking in the entire visible area. "InvisibleToVisible," is chanted, as if those that are better hidden might be revealed somehow.