Welcome to Gaia! ::

This is the muchly belated ending to the Imp Invasion event. You're welcome to join in, but you're not required to. Should you prefer to not participate, you can assume your characters met with one of the NPCs or otherwise heard from some character that frequents the shop on how to handle the situation in an independent post of your own. Also, since the even was in the summer of 2012, it should be assumed that this RP is also within that same summer. This RP should have occurred the day following the chaos that the imps caused.

The shop plots following this event will resume in a winter setting, but there shall be more info on that later. Just wanted to give you a guys a point of reference in order to get any plots straight that might still have loose ends to it.

This is also a group RP, but for the sake of time, instead of waiting in a certain order for everyone to post, I think it would be best for everyone to just post as they can. Huzzah! Chaos. 8D

Indeed, he didn't have to wait for long until the sound of a car pulling up into one of the parking bays could be heard – a bit too speedily perhaps, which was almost immediately confirmed by a thud caused by the bumper colliding with the outer wall. Someone was in quite a rush to get to the shop apparently, or perhaps the driver simply lacked a proper field of vision. Or both.

"You should have worn your glasses," Nephrite nagged at her guardian, getting out of the car as fast as she could once it had stopped. She'd never liked driving much anyway, but having been forced to share the back seat with a small horde of overexcited shadowy imps and keep them occupied so that Amon could focus on driving had been the absolute worst. They were such annoying and messy little creatures, there were sure to be cookie crumbs everywhere now. Including her slightly tousled hair.

"What glasses, those little buggers broke them." Amon muttered darkly.

"The replacement pair? The one you keep in the hallway?"

"Yeah right. They probably broke those too." Which was really not unlikely at all given the current state of their hallway.

"But you don't know."

"And I couldn't possibly care less." Not after the effort it had taken to herd those little monsters out of the house and into the car. The merry crew on the back seat were merely the ones which hadn't fit into the trunk. "Can you hold the door for me?"

"We could have gotten into an accident, you know?" Nephrite continued to complain.

"Neph, some silence please, my patience meter is running pretty damn low by now. And hold the door." He bent down to gather up the cookies that had spilled from the the passenger seat into the footwell due to the somewhat abrupt stop.

Nephrite reluctantly complied, silently glaring at the messy little horde which spilled forth from the trunk once Amon unlocked it, cooing and excitedly pointing at the cookie plate he was holding with one hand.

The young fiend wished nothing more than to exact revenge and make them suffer for the precious silken garments they had torn (at least one of which had been vintage), but instead those creatures had somehow ended up being rewarded with cookies?! That seemed wholly unfair and it had put her in a really foul mood, even though it did work rather fabulously well as a lure and to pacify them.

At least they were rather well behaved when they followed Amon into the shop, much like rats following the Pied Piper of Hamelin. She had to admit, those peanut butter cookies did smell delicious ...

She let go of the door, once the last imp had come inside, and took a quick glance around. They were the only ones around, it seemed (Mystic didn't quite count), good. Immediately she zipped off into the back room where she kept a small purse containing some of her things when she spent her days here – a hair brush, among others. And a hair brush was of utmost importance to her right now.

"Yes," Amon said dryly. "They multiplied." Out of spite he held the cookie plate well out of reach of the shadowy little horde for now, shaking off some especially daring ones which tried to clamber up his pants.

(( The original Imp Event post is here, by the way. ))

Rhys took point near the door of the garage, looking over toward his fallen bike with the shadow creatures swarming over it he winced a little. The paint job was never going to be the same after this. Grabbing up a wide broom from the closet nearby he starts pushing the shadow imps back into the garage trying to contain them.

Cinder came down the stairs two at a time, her dark blue eyes flashing as she glanced to the door. "What's happen?!" Reaching back she drew free her laser pistol preferring to have violence on her side if needed.

Crawling up under the brush Tek took form xyrs tentacles flailing - green eyes wide with alarm. Don't shoot my babies!

A twitch moved across Cinder's features as she started at the shadow, her gaze slowly moved toward Rhys, "I thought it was a boy tentacle monster?"

Rhys huffs rolling his eyes, "Tek is more...whatever - but that isn't the discussion we should be having. I'm not sure where these things came from! They aren't your babies." Turning his gaze toward his charge Rhys frowned, pivoting forward to push back a few shadow creatures back into the depths of the garage. "What we really need to be worrying about is that they seem to be multiplying."

Muttering a curse in draconian Cinder moves forward, gun in hand, at some point one of her harsh tasting cheroot cigars appeared on her lips. Lighting it she takes a pull as she looks over the garage. "Think they burn? Only thing that really works on infestations like this is the flame thrower, thermite will control them pretty well. Though likely take the house out as well - do like the house." There was a cold calculation as she looked over the shadow imps her mind triggering into the best way to control the threat.

"Whoa! Dont' burn anything - we can...do something," Rhys winced and his shoulders starting tense up as he once again had to push back the imps into the garage.

While Cinder and Rhys argued and discussed Tek hurried across the living room and picked up Rhys phone that was sitting on an end table. Xe didn't know much about the phone - even after having taken quite a few apart, looking the phone over he brushes his tentacle over a small sliding button to the top turning on the psychic controls. If Rhys had carried a cellphone without the little extras Cinder was use to, it was highly unlikely Tek would have been able to use it at all. But today xe was in luck, pushing a few more buttons xe moved through Rhys directly to bring up the number for Twilight Designs. Once the phone dialed through he focused on the phone conveying his thoughts through the delicate sensors.

On the other end of the phone a digitalized but pleasant voice speaks to whoever answers the phone, "Help! Cinder's going to shoot my babies!"

Tek's eyes opened wide when someone answered the phone, Rhys had taught xem how to use the phone but no one had ever talked to xem. After a moment of pause Tek spoke again realizing xe'd been asked a question. "Tektite! I had babies all over and Cinder is going to shoot them - or burn them. I don't know which but it's going to be bad!"

Cinder turns hearing her name, "keep 'em in the garage Rhys," darting back into the house she looks at Tek clutching the phone with his tentacles. "Who's on the phone?"

"She's here! Help my babies!" Tek tosses the phone in alarm and it shuts off.

Muttering Cinder looks to the fallen phone and moves over to grab it up, while the little shadow darts off back toward Rhys. Still frowning she takes a pull from her cheroot and starts dialing back through the numbers called noting the shop she mutters to herself, "that's not a bad idea."

“Anything to be rid of them,” Amon muttered as he put down the plate and then quickly retreated by a few steps to be out of the way of the shadowy hungry horde. Having baked those cookies while the imps observed him, excitedly pointing at the ingredients he'd lined up while chattering and chirping amongst themselves … That had definitely been one of the most bizarre feats he had ever pulled off.

At least it seemed he and Nephrite hadn't been the only ones to have their home be assaulted by those little critters. “Was that Cinder's number? Someone should call her back and tell her it's not a good idea to- Wait, how can Tek use a phone?”

There was a soft, silken touch upon his bare arm, and he knew without looking that Nephrite had returned from the back room. It hadn't taken her long to regain her usual impeccable appearance, the shimmering folds of her garment neatly arranged, the long black hair pinned up into a decorative bun. But she was still seething, and kept her right hand clutched around an especially sharp and pointy hair pin as she glowered at the imps. 'They are still there.' she noted with obvious disappointment. 'Make them go away.'

Amon was pretty sure this translated as: 'Kill them, kill them all.'

Reyna answered the phone again while still hissing in distaste at Mystic's amusement at the situation. "Hello? Cinder?" she spoke, "Uhhh. Don't shoot the imps. Give them cookies. I don't know why, but it pacifies them."

"They like sweets," Mystic chimed in, perfectly calm and serious with his answer. "Nothing wrong with that," he went on as he petted the head of the one that was sitting atop the desk and handed it another cookie.

Nephrite's gray eyes narrowed with barely contained anger. 'There is something very wrong with them tearing up my dresses,' she all but snarled. 'And making a mess out of my make up. And drinking up my perfumes.' The latter of which had led to some amazing fireworks when Amon had tried to burn them, what with the ethanol and all.

“Now, now …” Amon murmured softly, noting that Nephrite's fingers clutched even tighter around that suspiciously sharp hairpin of hers, and that she seemed ready to launch herself at the imps in a bout of female fury. It wasn't exactly easy to tell apart her red-hot anger from his own disgruntled state, especially being in close physical contact as they were right now. The one good thing about Nephrite's strong contact empathy was, it usually worked both ways. And as long as he was in controll of his feelings … Which he usually was, as long as no magic, no black-robed cultists, and no dangerously literally hot powerful women were involved. He was trying terribly hard to not look at a certain latter right now.

Now, now …” he murmured once more, pulling the young fiend close to rest comfortably against his chest. “We'll get it all fixed,” he vowed to her. “I'll get you new dresses, new makeup and new perfume, promise.” And your hair smells of peanut butter cookies.

Nephrite momentarily glared at her guardian for the inaudible tease, but then she simply couldn't help it, she had to laugh.

Amon breathed a small sigh of relief, glad that Nephrite's foul mood seemed to be dispersed for now. He already had been at the receiving end of her holding a grudge several times now, and it was not something he'd like to see a repeat of anytime soon. There were times when he felt he ought to be wary of her rather than magic, his own element, or the cultists that still seemed hell-bent on fulfilling their prophecy and sacrificing him.

Speaking of things to be wary of … His gaze lingered briefly on Mystic. Something seemed terribly off about him, though he couldn't quite pinpoint it, strange as the shadow fiends were in general.