Welcome to Gaia! ::

((Don't worry, this thread isn't dying. It's just slow.

Also, I think this writer's block is contagious, cuz now I have it.))

((
Egads! It's an outbreak of writer's flu! Symptoms include headaches and hours spent pacing and mumbling to oneself. Quarantine not advised; the outbreak seems to spread by a carrier's absence from an area...

Welcome to the thread, K.N.Y.!
))

Location: the church, in that city, 20mi S of MMHQ

The basement door flew open. Joel barreled through and hit Maro at a run, running him into the wall. The two men struggled, then Maro aimed a blast of fire at Joel's face. Reflexively, Joel jerked back, and Maro added a push to send Joel stumbling back across the room. When he recovered, Maro had a hand pointed at him.

"Stay back! I will roast you if you move."

Joel pointed the pistol at Maro. "I can kill you before you can singe my hair."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

"This is a temple. No one kills in a temple."

Joel pointed to where Maro was using his other hand to jinx the gun. "You're not sure about that."

"If there were less at stake, maybe I would be."

Joel set the gun down on the ping pong table behind him, although it was still within reach if Maro let up on the jinx. "You said something like that earlier. Something about your village?"

Maro seemed very willing to talk about that. "My village is in the path of a dragon. Several dragons, even. The king's men can do nothing to stop them. Thanatos can. A priest offered me power to slay dragons in exchange for building a circle of power for him here."

"So you're going to try to kill everyone here for power."

"They won't die, unless they put up a fight. Look, don't tell anyone, but I don't like Thanatos either. But, his clergy will reach this world with or without my help. This way, at least something good happens because of it."

Joel recalled a scrap of conversation from a day before. "Are you aware that your king hired mercenaries from us to slay the dragons?"

Maro blinked at that, but then shook his head. "They don't stand a chance. The dragons will eat them before they even reach the light crystal mines."

"They're better than that," Joel insisted, and then Maro's words caught up with him. Wait - light crystal mines? Riku had said that the demons of Thanatos were weak to light crystals.

Maro shook his head before he could pursue that line of thought. "No. they're dead by now. Thank you for trying, but this is the only way." He stopped, as if uncertain what to say next. "Now what? I can't finish the circle with you in the way."

"Actually, I've got an idea about that."

"What is it?" Maro asked suspiciously.

"Your fire is just fire, isn't it? You're not using oil or kerosene or anything that would stick after it hits?"

Confused, Maro answered "No."

"A little fire means nothing to me." And Joel jumped him again. He came in head first, ducking under the worst of the flame. Minutes later, Maro was tied up with a convenient roll of duct tape. While pulling up the cardboard circle, Joel called the Mishaps headquarters. "Groundwalker here. Maro is in custody. I'm bringing him to the base for safe keeping now."

On the road to MMHQ

It took some time to retrieve his car, and even longer to argue with the police about how to transport the priest. They wanted Joel to use his own car, because they had just lost two and they didn't want to risk a third. Joel wanted to use an official police car, but he was willing to use his own car as long as Maro remained duct taped into submission. The police thought that was inhumane. The argument ended when Maro revealed that he could blow fire through his mouth and had to have it taped shut as well.

Soon after that, Joel was driving down the winding road back to Mishaps Headquarters. The disguise necklace lay on the passenger seat, on top of his sweater. The back of the sweater had a large hole charred through it, so one of the officers had offered him a plain dark green T-shirt they had lying around. For the first time since his arrival in this world, Joel's arms were exposed to plain view. His right arm from shortly below the shoulder to shortly above the wrist was made of wood. Carved into the lower arm was a winged badger design. A hinge in the middle simulated an elbow, and straps held the wood in place. Joel had always worn shirts long enough that only the flesh and blood below his wrist would show. After meeting some of the peculiar inhabitants of the area, he didn't think anyone would care.

One of the inhabitants of the area was making muffled sounds from the back seat. Joel glanced at him, but Maro was still taped into place under his seat belt. Joel rolled down the window. The sound of birds singing in the trees drowned out the heart-wrenching cries for the rest of the trip.

As he neared the base, Joel noticed a girl wearing goggles playing in a tree. She was probably a new recruit, but as long as she stayed up there, she wasn't his concern.

Entrance, MMHQ

The car pulled in to the Mishaps garage, and the newly replaced garage door closed. A few minutes later, Joel came up the steps into the main entrance of the Mishaps base. It was slow going because he was carrying the taped-up Maro over one shoulder, fireman style. Maro kept struggling and trying to escape his bonds. Joel wished he had taken the elevator.

Joel tried to wave to the guards at the door, but almost dropped his burden. "Evening, guys," he said after he had regained his grip. "The badge is in my wallet, but I've got my hands full. He's with me." Maro let out a pained squeek, and smoke rose from the tape around his hands. He twitched violently, and Joel almost dropped him again. Joel noticed the girl from outside standing in the doorway by the metal detectors. "Hey," he called to Korie, "If you're not busy, give me a hand with this guy. He needs to get to the infirmary for sedation."

Opening up the package, Cyrith noticed his weapons, and something else. It was shaped like a wedge, but had brown wrapping around it, and a note attached to it. After opening the note, Cyrith read the contents:

aaaaaaa"This is something for you, a creation of mine. A new type of cheese. Hope you
aaaaaaaalike it. I call it 'Heaven's Grace."

Opening the paper, Cyrith took out the cheese. A cream color with a hint of pink and blue. It would definitely look interesting, to say the least.

Anyways, Cyrith rehooked his weapons, then walked over to the randomly appearing transport, which would take him back to the base. Instead, he jumped on a crotch rocket that was sitting there, and finding the keys nearby, took off down the road.It didn't take long for him to find out that he was fairly close to the base, although how this place was hidden was beyond his knowledge.

The ride back was uneventful, although he did see some ninja. Talking to a few of them, he found out they were really good guys, with a love of money. Then he arrived back at HQ. Dropping the bike off at the research lab - he did destroy one of their bikes, after all - he went off in search of the kitchen. He still hadn't had his ham and cheese.

When the cooks told him that the ham had just been all used up, he felt like killing himself, but he didn't. He was still hungry, and wanted a sandwich. Taking some turkey instead, he just walked off, grumbling about incompetent chefs, causing the single ole lady to bean him in the head with a rolling pin. Damn, but she had good accuracy.

Larry walked into the home that his sisters shared. The floor was wet around the doormat, causing Larry's shoes to squeak on the hardwood. "All right, I know this ain't like you Clarissa! You always wipe your feet when you come in." he called out to the air in front of him.

Before taking another step, Larry carefully pulled his pistol up from his back, keeping it hidden behind him. He came slowly around the corner from the entryway. "Now just come on out and talk, Maris. Did Clarissa get dumped again? Is that why she dragged me all the way down here?"

Suddenly and without warning Larry was tackled from around the next corner. "Surprise!!!" two identical dark-haired girls in their early twenties squealed, wrapping their arms around Larry like pythons wearing puffy fur jackets. Before Larry knew it his nose was flooded with perfume and he was being smooched all over his cheeks, causing him to let go of his pistol so it didn't go off.

Larry quickly forced himself to his feet and brushed off the way-too-affectionate set of sisters God decided to bless him with. While Larry was stabilizing himself against the wall he looked at them both. Both once bore a slight resemblence to Larry, but had been altered and touched up with plastic surgery and expensive make-up. Both wore fur-lined hooded jackets, high-heeled boots and skirts. Their busts filled the black tube tops they wore quite nicely. Not too big, not too small (and not that Larry was looking, I'm just saying).

Their appearences were designed to make them identical in all ways with the exception of the black tops which bore the first letter of their name. Larry's mind suddenly flicked back to the pistol which was still lying on the ground and he bent over to pick it up, giving his sisters something to giggle at. "Marissa. Clarissa." he said coming back up "What's this all about?"

"Ohhhh come on, Larry. Would it kill you to act like you're happy to see us?" Clarissa asked in her cutesy way.
"Hi, Clarissa, nice to see ya. Now what the hell am I doing here? You didn't screw the wrong rich woman's husband again, did you?"
"Screw you!" Marissa yelled back "We need ya help and you accuse us of bein' tramps?"

Larry didn't even flinch when he heard this accusation. He knew his twin sisters' reputations just as well as they knew his. If there was anything that they were good at, it had to be getting rich Wall Street businessmen out of a rut and getting paid for it. And as it would turn out, this WAS the reason why Larry's sisters had called him back to the city.

After a good old fashioned Lombardi family shouting match, it was revealed that Larry's sisters had shown a bond trader a good time (at the same time) and he had rewarded them with season tickets to the Yankees. Clarissa's Mercedes was in the shop and Marissa had let one of her girlfriends borrow her BMW for a party so they had to take the subway to get to the game.

They needed Larry to escort them to the game, which was already asking too much to start with because Larry was a Mets fan. But they were his sisters and with all the boozed-up fans going to tonight's game, he sure wasn't going to leave them alone to get date-raped in a subway bathroom. The game was between the two NYC teams anyway, so he would get a decent break out of the emergency leave he took from work.

"Okay." said Larry, shaking his head "But no 'job hunting' while we're at the game. I also expect you to change into something a little more baseball game like than that." His sisters looked at each other and nodded once. "Good. We're leaving in ten minutes."

((Sorry, still stuck on what to post.

By the way, if I were to make a thread for the whole Thanatos-Kavinsky thing, would anyone be interested?))

In short order the twins were dressed, Larry was no longer pistol-packing and they were on their way to the subway station with Larry wishing that he'd never even had a sister, let alone twins. When they hailed another cab, THREE drivers pulled over at once, forcing Larry to smack his forehead and mouth the word "Why?" to the sky. Not only did they completely disregard his words to change into something more "baseball game like", they decided to rub it in his face a little bit.

They now wore tight sleeveless Yankee t-shirts and skirts normally reserved for slutty schoolgirl uniforms on a "roleplaying" website, both complete with Yankee colors and pinstripes. Without a doubt, the only thing modest about the twins were their shoes. Regular tennis shoes, no socks. Larry simply wore an old Mets hat from his childhood that he found in a box in the closet.

After picking cab number two, Larry sat down inside and was greeted with the sound of the cab driver whistling. He looked both of them up and down and flashed them a couple of looks. The twins responded with a couple naughty looks of their own. Larry was so embarressed that he could feel the cab driver's eyes on them.

"Hey hey, playa." the cab driver said "You a Mets fan?"
Larry nodded "Yeah. Take us to the nearest subway."
Not paying attention, the driver continued "But I bet you gonna be rootin' for the Yankees tonight, huh?"
Larry rubbed his temples "Not really, subway please."
"Aw I get it, only way you gonna make the Mets score is outside the park?" the driver laughed, obviously clueless "Gonna score a homer, Yankee your wank-"

Larry lunged forward with his hand and grabbed the driver by his shirt collar. "They're my SISTERS!" he shouted "Now will you kindly take us to the nearest subway or otherwise I'm gonna tip you by giving back all of your teeth when we get there!"

The driver got going, but managed to pull off a wink in the rear view when Clarissa was looking and Larry wasn't. She giggled and turned on her iPod.