I just wanted a Churro!

April 23, 2016:

Lyn went to the mall for a Churro, and the beasts of a hellish dimension showed up. It must be Saturday.

Fantastic Awesome Radical Mall

Out of the 80's was built a mall to beat all Malls, unfortunately while it has a more dignified real name, it has forever been tagged with the alias of the Fantastic Awesome Radical Mall. It has a huge food court; an 18-screen movie theatre, including six IMAX Screens; a bowling alley; a full arcade still kept up; a comic book shop; multiple gaming stores, including one that stays open for RP sessions and Card tournaments until 2 AM on Friday and Saturday Nights. And several of practically every kind of store (shoe, clothing, sporting goods, toy, chocolate, jewelry, coin, knives, etc) imaginable. It is 6-stories of corporate greed and consumerism, having health food stores, herbal suppliers, and even a psychic (or does that just reinforce the level of consumerism and greed?).

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

It was a good day by almost any standard one could measure by. The sun was shining, the air was clear and noone was trying to rob, bomb, steal or otherwise cause problems for those that would be obligated to stop them. Time to take a break! For Witchdoctor the day off offered a fantastic opportunity to explore some of the vast differences between the time she had been ripped from and the present day. The technology itself wasn't -too- different in its flashy display, but the genuine 'happy' vibe that many of the bright colorful displays offered were a stark difference.

Then there was that other thing…

After wandering between a few stores and a little magical credit card fraud to replace a few items of blood stained clothing Alyse had stumbled her way onto the wonder that is the food court. Most of it was junk food, but compared to soy-based imitations and protein packs? It smelt like heaven…


Lyn was wandering about, her flooftastic hair bouncing with each step, its hue a mixture of dark and pale honey-blonde. Keeping up with her personal comfort level, the girl's eyes are also on display, solid jade with slit pupils, no longer hidden behind solid hunks of boxy, black sunnies. She's dressed in ratty, thread-bare jeans, partially laced, scuffy boots, and a scarlet sweater that's a bit too big, its collar resting over one shoulder.

One hand partially in the front pocket of her pants, the other is wrapped around a massive churro, smothered in cinnamon-sugar, and filled to the brim with strawberry cream. It's already half gone, the girl's cheeks rounded out like a chipmunk's as she continously stuffs her face.


With a mighty yawn, Barry Allen entered the F.A.R.M., or Fantastic Awesome Radical Mall. Every time he thought about it, he felt like adding a cowabunga, exactamundo, primo, or something else you might hear from a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie. It had been a late night, one so late it dragged out into the next day. He had been working on a case that defied logic. Barry didn't know it, but the case that had given him so much trouble last night was magical, and that's why so many of his tried and true tests came back negative.[%R][%R][%B]

Nevertheless, with effort, determination, and more patience than he's used to, he was able to figure it out, and write his report. It was too late for him to go to bed; he always had trouble sleeping when his mind was racing, so he ventured down to the mall to calm down. Wearing a blue on blue shirt that read 'Sporting', some team by the look of it, and blue jeans underneath, he ran a hand through his flaxen hair. "Hmm, maybe it's time for a trim." Then he noted that one of his shoelaces had come undone, so he knelt down to fix it.


Even though strange people wandering around a mall isn't exactly a new thing, Witchdoctor is still in her street clothing rather then her gown that might draw an odd look or two. Right now she's simply walking stall and booth to both, trying to decide on which one of these great many fried 'historical treasures' she would sample when something 'pings' on her senses. Magic…or at least a being tied to it. The last two times she'd felt such a thing she'd stumbled on a museum robbery and a werewolf…but there doesn't seem to be any thugs or lycanthropes rampaging in sight just yet.

A shrug of her shoulders and the Witch turns those big blue eyes of hers over the crowd, gaze falling on Barry for a moment, but only a moment. He wasn't the one radiating magic. Eventually her eyes fall to Lyn and her sweet, curiousity at that magical dragging making her draw closer.


Content with her deep-fried pastry, she turns and finds herself stumbling as she hits Barry with her lower leg. On her tip toes, she squeeks to a stop and rests her hand out to gather some balance. Eyes wide, the Creole stares down at Barry, her cheeks flushing with heat and her full mouth muffling out worried words. "Shorey! Mmfs shorey!"

Swallowing, hard, the girl coughs against the crock of her arm before breathing. "Sorry. Didn' watch where I was goin'. Y'alright?" For now, she didn't notice the other blonde locking her gaze on her, or heading her way.


As Barry makes his way into the mall, he walks past a cobbler's, art house, ice cream shop, mobile device store, and then he sees it, Hairformers Studio. He breathes out a heavy sigh at the obvious Transformers reference, but he decides to wander in, "Hello Amber," he read the nametag of the blonde woman at the front, "do you have time for a drop in?" She checked the computer, looking over a spreadsheet, "oh, yes, we do, in, oh, two hours, okay?" She smiled at him.

Two hours? For the fastest man alive, that is an eternity. "That long huh." He tapped his fingers on the counter, trying not to look frustrated. Then he grinned with a twinkle in his eye, "I tell you what, don't put me in for the appointment, if someone else takes it, that's fine, but if I'm still here, and it's still open, I'll get a wash and cut." The girl would have preferred a booking, but she nods her head, "all right, hope to see you soon."

Yeah, two hours, that's soon in her world. After he gets a little further away, he sees an Antique shop and decides to have a look-see. It was looking at the shop that distracted him as Lyn bumped into him. He actually did see it coming, but if he evaded things like that, it would endanger his secret identity. "It's quite all right, I'm partially to blame. I got distracted. Are you okay?" She looks it, but best to check to be sure.


Well, time to head off to the background. The blonde woman might technically be stalking Lyn, but it's purely due to the 'vibe' the woman is casting off. Throwing glances the way of the pair, the witch makes her way towards the churro stand in the vaunted power of suggestion. So far it seems stable enough, but even so she can't help but shake the feeling that something is wrong.

It's not just her that would be feeling it either. Even the mortals, mundane and civillian patrons look about. Hairs on the back of everyone's neck standing up as some great feeling of some impending danger grows in every moment passing.

For Lyn however? There's something else to that rush of foreboding. The sound of hooves, galloping hooves growing louder by the second…and the sound of a hunting horn.


"Ah, m'fine, beaubelle. Don' y'worry 'bout dat." She checks his shirt and arm, making sure that none of the pastry dusted on him, or jam made a stain. Once satisfied, she nibbles against her lower lip and takes a step back. "Anyway, gon' jus' keep on movin' 'fore dis gets awkward, no?" Chuckling, nervously, she goes to turn away before her foot-falls cease.

Those serpent like eyes stare forward at nothing in particular. They focus, loosely, as she feels around for something, anything, that links to the sensation rolling up her newly scaled spine. The girl frowns as she eyes her food before moving to a bin and tossing it away. "Merde…gon' be one a dose days."


Barry is no mystic, he doesn't even believe in magic. The few times he has encountered it, he's taken the view that it's science that he just hasn't figured out yet. The laws of physics can be bent, he knows that with absolute certainty. But the Speed Force, like any other scientific principal, still works on something that is testable, measurable, and repeatable.

Still, the hairs on the back of his neck, the ones he'd like to have shaven off, seem to stand up on end. And he's not sure why. He looks around, trying to gauge the situation. Time slows for him. His perceptions speed up. There's not much that he misses when he focuses like this, but so far, he can't seem to pick up on anything. So why does he feel… uneasy.


Witchdoctor -is- a mystic, but her abilities stem from a different place to Lyn. She doesn't have quite the same warnings as the voodoo woman does as a result. Finally however, the woman's eyes come away from Barry and the magical mystery girl to stare at a nearby wall. To her eyes she can see it, something wavering and familier on the edge of perception. A blurring of the lines between one reality and the next. Something is coming, something big!

Lyn's trick will pan out, the effect is pretty dramatic. Most people wouldn't run quite so fast even if a fire alarm goes off, but when that alarm is coupled with all the sprinklers in the area bursting to life? People are quick to shriek and run from the artificial rain.

It'll work so well in fact, that the food court is almost entirely empty when that waver in reality splits open violently and a figure bursts out into the space. Dark-skinned, armored and astride a creature that looks like a hybrid of a horse and a goat, the being looks like some sort of knight from a dark fantasy…but he's not alone. Another rider, then another still burst through that same tear, their charge flipping tables and scattering discarded foods as the hunt invades.


Lyn moves her hand across one of the red boxes that ready the fire alarm. She doesn't touch it, not physically, but something just kicks it into gear. The bells are ringing, loudly, and waters washes down, beginning to flatten the girl's floofy hair. She watches as people flood out in droves from the building, leaving their now ruined food behind.

Looking over her shoulder, she blinks curiously at the blonde man. "Get goin'. Ain't gon' be safe here soon." And like on cue, in come the riders. Her hand up, she brushes some tendrils of jet away from her face, her hands gripping into tiny fists as she sizes up the threat with quickly darting eyes.


Barry Allen is in his civilian attire. He's not wearing a mask. While he could help out, he'd be far more useful in costume right now. So he does what a lot of the other shoppers do. He runs. But not at super speed. He just runs at a normal pace, well, a normal pace if you were a world class sprinter. But it's all very believable. Nothing to see here security guard watching the footage after the fact, move along.

Once outside, he'll make his way to an area that seems to lack security cameras. It's getting harder and harder to find them, but once he does, he opens his ring, allowing his suit to jet out. While the cloth is in mid air, he changes, folding his old clothes, and then he has to find a place to stash them. Fortunately, now he can use his powers, so the clothes get hidden on top of a building, with the heavier jeans on top so nothing blows away.

And then he's back, on his way to the mall. He arrives in a blur, stating in a deeper voice, but nothing like the actor Christian Bale in that superhero movie, "I'm the Flash. What can I do to help?"


Whatever these creatures are, they don't seem to be in any hurry to chase down the fleeing civillians. Those that hadn't quite got away and actually witness what's going on? They manage to skip the temptations to go digging for camera phones and instead run for their lives. So much the better. The riders seem to still be gathering as more and more pour out of the tear until finally no less then fourteen riders are circling the foodcourt, speaking…calling…hollering in deep voices speaking a language noone in the room would possibly understand.

While Lyn remains and Barry returns masked, Witchdoctor hadn't fled either, but she was seperate from the others where she'd been spying on the pair. Perhaps unlike the others, her eyes were wide. She knew what this was…

Finally gathered, the hunt cry out as one and draw their blades, calling and riding their beasts towards Lyn and The Flash. While it's pretty clear the brandishing of weapons and their general behaviour suggests they mean harm, there's something more.

They want the trio to run. They WANT to chase them.


"De Flash?" She questions, giving the man in red a quick once over. "No kiddin'. Well, Flash, I don' know yet. Dis, ah…dis be diff'rent den what 'm use t'." The force gathers and the noises grow louder, but once they start to charge, the girl with snake eyes doesn't move a muscle. Her hands rest to her sides, fingers wiggling idly as her lips move, humming out a soft mantra of prayers.

The lights flicker before popping and casting the building into darkness, with only the natural light from outside to give any visual aid. Taking a knee onto the water washed floor, she slides her finger through the puddles, causing ripples while drawing out symbols. Shadows grow and form, slicking away from their resting places and beginning to wrap around the eyes of both riders and their mounts, hopefully blinding them.


"Yeah," even he's not sure why everyone calls him the Flash as opposed to just Flash. It probably has something to do with the other guy, or just editorial choice. But whatever the reason, the name stuck. He watches as Lyn does her thing, not really sure what it is she's up to, but he knows enough to let a person do whatever they think is best. She seems to be on the side of the speedsters.

But the creatures who just came out of the portal. What to do about them. He's not scared, and he runs all the time, but never away from a fight. He looks up at them, the beasts, taking it all in, and then he chuckles softly. He got an idea that brought a true and delightful smile to his lips. Stepping forward, he states in a loud, clear voice, "Gentleman… good afternoon. As a duly designated representative of Central City, Andrew County, and the State of Missouri, I order you to cease any and all supernatural activity and return forthwith to your place of origin, or to the nearest convenient parallel dimension."


Well, at least when Lyn goes scrawling runes in the water Alyse knows she was looking in the right place, but the blonde has been backing up slowly as the surrounding ring of interdimensional riders move in closer with every moment. "They're hunters," she speaks up, the blonde woman drawing attention to herself for the first time. "They're looking for prey and I think…they probably don't speak English." She's backing up slowly, but her hand is very gradually reaching into her jacket while she speaks. Tension mounts as the Hunt advances in, slow and confident in their movements.

"If they're here, someone called them here…they don't exactly tend to go vacationing in malls."

The darkness sweeps in as Lyn completes her spell and those inhuman languages grow angry, more frantic as the indoor space is enveloped in darkness. Whatever these creatures are, they still use eyes to see.


"I…don' t'ink dey wanna jus' go on home. 'Mean, dey jus' got here, Red." Smirking, dimples pressing into her cheeks, she looks out toward the group as they begin to lose their ability to see. Her fingers draw a few more marks before she stands and eyes the other blonde through the sputtering rain of sprinklers. "Y't'ink?" Some of the woman's warning sounds obvious, but the rest?

"First, we take'em down, or send'em back. Den, we work on figurin' out who sent'em dis way. Red, y'gotta idea on stoppin'em?" She then snaps and points at Alyse. "You, y'know what dey are. Start tellin' us how t'stop'em."


They seem to be reasonably peaceful right now, and have been blinded by the darkness, so how to get them back through that portal. The Flash tried reasoning with them in American English, which movies have led him to believe is the universal language of choice. Moving towards the portal, making sure not to go through it, he turns his back to it and calls out, "Hey, over here!" He moves at super speed, a few metres to the left, "I'm over here," then to the right, "red rover, red rover, send the monster things over." He's taunting them. They may not understand English, but hopefully they can understand his tone of voice. And with the darkness blinding them, they might be fooled into thinking that instead of one Flash, there's a pile of them.


The Flash's trick that he pulls makes the Witch blink. Teleportation? No…that's not it. Whatever it is though, it clearly works as the Hunters and their beasts turn and move in a far less organized mass then they had held moments ago. They're seeking prey, some even jabbing out into the darkness with their blades to mark and knock over the few remaining tables and chairs mistaken for figures in the black, but it's clear they're lost.

Taking the most of the distraction and handicap, the Witch looks over her shoulder at Lyn. "Iron will burn them, but if we don't put a stop to whoever is doing the summoning, more will come. There's a lot more then this according to the stories."


It's working, the Flash thinks to himself. They're moving in the right direction. So he keeps up the taunting, staggering himself, trying to give them things to lunge at, to strike at, and most importantly, to charge. But there are so many of them. He's going to have to give them a little help too. And so, in between taunts, "hey, ugly, over here!" he does a quick run through the mall, hoping to find something useful. He ends up finding a store that sells carpets.

He borrows several of the largest ones, placing them along the floor in front of the beasts and their riders. He keeps up the taunting, "fast as fast can be, you'll never catch me." Once he's coaxed them onto the carpets, well, that's when the fun begins. His plan is to start rolling it up from the other side and hopefully use that to push, slide, or cajole them into the portal. Of course, this is all based on the theory, an unconfirmed one, that somebody will be able to close up the portal. "Oh, that was close, you almost got me there." But if they can't, well, then maybe there's a few thousand rolls of duct tape in the mall.


"Move'em back in, Red!" Lyn seems to agree with the speedster's plan, though each time he moves, her curls flow from side to side, picking up with the wind he creates. "Ain't got de time t'find no iron, n'no clue of who's doin' dis." She's moving to the portal, though, stopping by one of the kitchen areas and taking up a knife. Thankfully, by now, the water pressure was gone from the building, ceasing the flow of liquid.

She wasn't sure if this would work, but, she had to try. Slicing into her palm, she draws a pool of crimson and dips her finger against it. Then, she starts painting, marking the area around the gateway with symbols and patterns. Her lips move and more words spill out, awakening the spirits around her, and within her.


It's a good point Lyn makes and a better plan that Flash offers. Odds are, if she had found herself facing this alone the Witch might have actually tried to fight the Hunt. That might have ended poorly! The Flash's almost comical wrap-up of the riders and their beasts makes her blink, stepping back a little before Lyn slices her hand and starts weaving her bloody spell over the floor. Voodoo? Alyse recognizes enough to work out what Lyn might be invoking, but her own knowledges are that of a dabbler at best.

Even so, the Witch raises her hand and traces several shapes into the air. No words from the blonde, but each gestures completed brings a glowing sigil of gold light that forms mid-air. Focusing spells, working like an amplifier for the different 'flavour' of power the other woman channels.


The Flash works from both sides, alternating his efforts behind them in pushing the carpeted monsters, and taunting them from the other side. This only lasts for a few more moments, or about half an hour from his perspective. But now it's too dangerous to taunt them. That, and he wants to make sure that he doesn't lose the carpets with them. These carpets are loaners, and the owner would probably frown upon losing so many large, and incredibly expensive rugs.

As he moves them closer to the portal, he gets ready to yank the rugs out from under them, trying to time it just so that they go flying forward, but the rugs come back with him. Normally it would take a few people to do this, but he's fast enough to be in multiple places at the same time.


Lyn rests her head back as her eyes roll back into their sockets. The last mark on the floor, she feels the odd, tingling rush of more magic flowing through her slender form. With a quick flick from Flash, and the bodies flying into the tear, it begins to mend and weave together, sealing up one reality away from their own. Pushing the power a bit more and then it's all over. The girl falls forward and down, giving a shudder and applying pressure against the palm of her hand.

Panting, she blinks and looks between Alyse and Flash. Silent, she catches her breath, but at least offers the pair a smile.


Somewhere, rooms away, the party responsible gives a shriek as their makeshift altar they'd assembled for their summoning shatters like it were made of glass, the fragments bursting into flames that are almost amusingly extinguished by the already pouring sprinkler system. They'll live to conjure another day, but for now the smaller portion of a Wild Hunt has been sent packing!

Those glowing sigils woven by the Witchdoctor wink out, dull lights disappearing into thin air while the Witch lowers her hands back to her sides. Completely saturated by the water raining from the sprinklers, the blonde woman looks between the costumed man and the other mystic before clearing her throat. "Okay…so that was…better then my idea." she admits sheepishly.


"So, would somebody like to explain to me what we just did? Where did they come from, who sent them, what's going on?" He doesn't seem to be out of breath at all. In fact, he seems quite calm, physically. Verbally, he's a bit of motor mouth. But at least he's speaking slow enough that he can be understood. Too bad he doesn't wait around long enough to find out, as he puts his hand towards the yellow lightning bolt-like antennae on the right side of his mask. "There's someone else who needs me." And in a blur of red and yellow light, he streaks across the city to deal with the next major issue.

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