Agent X (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} parallelagent) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} utr_logs,@ 2009-10-06 16:37:00 |
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What: X is dropped off in a strange place by a tornado. She reacts violently.
Where: Crowley's establishment.
When: Now-ish
She had a cell phone in one hand, a Dracon beam in the other. She'd put her drink down to draw the Dracon, and the very fact that she didn't have enough arms to hold all three things was already annoying her.
Ax snapped the cell phone shut, and put it back in her pocket, having completed her voice post. When the vortex dropped her off the thing had been in her hand and primed to deliver a post to a certain message board, but the cell hadn't been on her back at the bar, nor had the ID that was in her pocket. A plastic card proclaiming her to be Andrea Fisher, 24, with her picture on it. Another one identifying her as an employee at some club. Agent X was not unfamiliar with false identification, but she was very unfamiliar with universe-hopping by means of tornado. And the unremembered gap of time that must have occurred for someone to have planted the cell and the IDs on her person was bothering her. And then there was the very familiar smell- the place reeked of Power, a certain specific type that made her stomach churn. Demonic. There were other kinds she didn't quite recognize, one in particular that refused to be overwhelmed by the demonreek but X was less interested in that.
She poked again at the invisible Wall between universes. It didn't budge. She tried for a teleport, but there were none of her markers anywhere in this 'verse. For the first time in a very long time, she had found herself in a reality that she could not get out of. It was making her extraordinarily claustrophobic.
The only reasonable thing left was to continue to threaten the clientele of this establishment with violence until she was presented with some information and a way out of this fishbowl. The voice post had been made loudly, as she stood at the top of a staircase, just above a large room full of people. They had been listening, but didn't seem to be taking her seriously enough. Maybe because she'd been talking into an old flip-phone. Or because her Dracon beam looked somewhat like a kid's toy phaser. She could unholster the plasgun or the sword for a more impressive display, but she decided she might as well teach these people to respect her currently held weapon.
"Alright, you asked for it." She took a swig from her drink- it had indeed come with her from the bar, thank the gods for small miracles- slammed the empty glass down on top of the nearest table, and fired at the ugliest piece of ceiling decoration she could find. The Dracon didn't char it or make it explode, it simply disintegrated it neatly. "Shazbot! I LOVE this gun!" she proclaimed to the crowd that was most definitely Paying Attention now. "See? I'm not just drunk, I'm also holding a deadly weapon. Makes a hot mess out of people too, not just poor interior design choices. Pew pew!" A smirk and a singsong voice as she pointed the Dracon casually at the crowd, dialed the power down from Disintegrate setting to Extraordinary Pain, roaming from target to target: "So who wants to give the nice lady some aaaansweeeers?"
She poked again at the invisible Wall between universes. It didn't budge. She tried for a teleport, but there were none of her markers anywhere in this 'verse. For the first time in a very long time, she had found herself in a reality that she could not get out of. It was making her extraordinarily claustrophobic.
The only reasonable thing left was to continue to threaten the clientele of this establishment with violence until she was presented with some information and a way out of this fishbowl. The voice post had been made loudly, as she stood at the top of a staircase, just above a large room full of people. They had been listening, but didn't seem to be taking her seriously enough. Maybe because she'd been talking into an old flip-phone. Or because her Dracon beam looked somewhat like a kid's toy phaser. She could unholster the plasgun or the sword for a more impressive display, but she decided she might as well teach these people to respect her currently held weapon.
"Alright, you asked for it." She took a swig from her drink- it had indeed come with her from the bar, thank the gods for small miracles- slammed the empty glass down on top of the nearest table, and fired at the ugliest piece of ceiling decoration she could find. The Dracon didn't char it or make it explode, it simply disintegrated it neatly. "Shazbot! I LOVE this gun!" she proclaimed to the crowd that was most definitely Paying Attention now. "See? I'm not just drunk, I'm also holding a deadly weapon. Makes a hot mess out of people too, not just poor interior design choices. Pew pew!" A smirk and a singsong voice as she pointed the Dracon casually at the crowd, dialed the power down from Disintegrate setting to Extraordinary Pain, roaming from target to target: "So who wants to give the nice lady some aaaansweeeers?"