jla_watchtower | (no subject)

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Navigating through bleary signals and Constantine's direction, Hell really is a lovely place. Through what looked like the shallow outline of a town (minus anything that looked like people), and down and down, avoiding the locals, into desert.

Still, they haven't been turned wrong. Corrine can tell Caleb's signal is getting closer, there's maybe a few more miles between them. She's not quite sure why they're doing all this "shh!" moving, they could probably toss any stupid little thing they come across. One of them could just go ahead and retrieve him, and there wouldn't have to be all this walking.

Yeah, she's grouchy. It happens. And it looks like there's activity up ahead... there's certainly a lot of noise getting louder.

"That sounds like more of the 'not awesome'."

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*Far be it from me to be the voice of caution... but given how messed up spacial relations and the magical threads are here, I'd recommend teleporting right up there with Russian roulette.*

He's familiar enough with the types of demons that as soon as he can get an actual look at what's out there his face sets in a grim line.

"It's an army." And of course he's pissed people off, Caleb just sort of has that way sometimes. But this is family business and no one hates you like your family.

"Ellie's people, used t'be Nergal's with a few additions here an there. Not very nice people."

"Any weaknesses you know of that we can exploit?" Sand asks.

"Big, dumb an vicious enough t'rip your arm off for fun. Most of em are hard t'kill an she's got some with actual weapons beyond hands an teeth." He considers the question.

"Not really, they're completely whipped into a frenzy an there's too many of em t'draw off the threat. I'd say we're in trouble."

Trevor takes a peek himself, marveling at how many demons seem to want a piece of Caleb's ass.

"What do you know, we actually should have brought Amelia. Even if they didn't give her the time of day just out of professional courtesy, she could always whip out her checkbook."

Ditching the sarcasm, Trevor looks at Sand.

"So what does the superhero handbook say about what to do when you're outnumbered and out-gunned by hordes of the damned? Because the best I can come up with is to hit them hard enough and fast enough to get to Caleb before anyone dies, then run like Hell for the door."

"The book says let me keep them busy and you get Caleb out of there so we can all leave." The horns are back and her teeth are definitely sharper.

Corrine should not be laughing at a time like this. To Trevor, "They'd catch up with us long before we got out, 'specially if the doormen give us another headache. And I really like my arms."

Tefe's looking... weirder, but they said this would happen. "'Keeping them busy' wouldn't result in inevitable limb-loss? 'Cause grow back or not, that kind of sucks." And, yes, she heard what Travis said but anything to get them home faster. "This is real easy. I teleport over there, teleport back here plus one, go home. Even got 'distraction'. Easy. Ea-sy!"

Sand stares. There really isn't much in the superhero handbook. "Travis, your concerns are duly noted, but this is our only shot at getting out of here without bloodshed." He looks at Corrine. "Do us a favor and don't miss. Tefe, be prepared for additional distractions if something goes wrong." He then looks at Constantine. "If you have a better plan, sir, now would be the time to share."

Travis nods, not about to argue, given the odds. He focuses for a moment, having the ring keep an eye on Corrine's condition, having gotten used to filtering the information from his similar 'watches' on Ms. Lane and on Mar'i in the past.
*Alright, but you're our ticket out. I'm keeping track of you if this goes badly.* he sends to just Corrine.

"Only better plan'd to not be here right now." He shrugs, pretty much anything they do at this point will have to be making it up as they go. The weapon he brought with them won't kill this many and it would royally piss them off.

Blah, blah, blah. Army= bad, but dodging the thing completely makes it a whole lot less bad.

"Ten seconds, tops." And she's gone in a flash.

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