The Ghostbusters or Exorcists?

[drjuliusmayfair]

Time: 1:00 AM
Date: March 6, 2009
Place: BPRD
Status: Open to BPRD Agents


It was the early mornings and Jules was running low on energy. After they returned to BPRD, Jules had sent a team to the so called haunted house, but everything seemed normal enough now that the seal was broken. They collected pictures of all the runes in the house and a spell caster broke the power they would have held over the house. Jules didn't have a chance to go, the doctor in the medical wing kept him back to sew up his cut, which was deeper then Jules had meant to make.

His arm hurt now, but he was used to it. The older I get, he thought as he sat at his desk, a cup of tea before him, the more my arm hurts. I'll have to find a new sacrifice soon...

There was a thump outside his office. and then a scream. Jules looked up, his hand over the bandage on his arm. "What the bloody..." he was cut off as the red lights went off. Warning... an intruder? He stood, going to the door and stopped when cough sounded behind him.

"Pas mieux d'aller là-bas, garçon blanc. Il ya un tas d'ennuis de brassage au sein de ces salles.." A weezy old voice said.

Jules turned and the Guardian of the Crossroads sat in his chair, sipping the hot tea from his cup. The Loa God winced, "
Pouah, vous les blancs et vos boissons méchant. N'avez-vous pas quelque chose de plus beau? Rhum ou de whisky? Je vais même prendre la vodka."

Jules looked from Legba to the door, "Legba? What?" He looked back at the god, "Why are you here?"

"Boy, vous vous améliorez-vous à genoux et me montrer un peu de respect!. Vous avez de la chance je suis encore ici sans vous m'appelait. Après tu m'as appelé sur le pont, j'ai vu ce qui se couchait et il semblait assez intéressant. Je ferais mieux de se divertir, parce que si le démon est qui, je pense qu'il est, si je ne suis pas amusé, je vais rouler votre corps à la croisée des chemins, à l'enfer, puis de retour!"

The old man wheezed a laughed as a voice sounded over the intercom, "All agents report to the hanger."


----------------------Translation----------------------------------

1: Better not go out there, white boy. There is a whole lot of trouble brewing within these halls.

2: Ugh, you white people and your nasty drinks. Don't you have something finer? Rum or whiskey? I'll even take vodka.

3: Boy, you better get down on your knees and show me some respect!. You're lucky I am even here without you calling me. After you called me on the bridge, I saw what was going down and it looked interesting enough. I better be entertained, because if that demon is who I think it is, if I'm not entertained, I am going to ride your body to the Crossroads, to Hell and then back again!

[gyakusatsu]

Deadhead was lying on a couch in his room dead-asleep. He'd made a direct path to his room the moment they'd arrived. He still felt a little woozy from the sight of Mayfair's blood and the adrenaline rush had left him little less than exhausted. He was having a dreamless sleep and woke up groggily as the room blazed red and the obnoxious screech of the alarm went off.
"Uuuugh..."
His head was spinning and he swore to himself before getting up, rubbing his eyes and slashing his face with the icy tap from his bathroom sink.
Though his efforts at waking up were largely unsuccessful, a voice blared over the intercom:
"All agents report to the hanger."
He swore again and dragged himself out the door.
Somehow he'd known it wasn't over.
"What's a guy gotta do to get some sleep..."

[watchfulcub13]

(OOC: I know it says open, but I still hope it's okay that I post here.)

Hazel was in the gym. She needed exercise; she always needed exercise. It helped to keep her head clear. Working at the BPRD wasn't a horrible job. In fact, she liked it. A lot. It was just that things always seemed to be complicated. Seriously, defeating evil monsters wasn't exactly easy. She lifted the weights; 25 pounds per arm. She liked to push herself, and twenty-five pounds was definitely pushing it. Oh, she had a lot of strength, but it wasn't physical. Her power was what made her strong; her aerokinesis. However, she wasn't feeling all that interested in practicing that today.

The truth was, she was afraid to practice her power inside the building; even though she'd had it for most of her life, she didn't feel that she had enough control over her aerokinesis to practice it indoors, except in the training room. She couldn't do it in the gym because there was too much stuff in the room. One wrong lift and she could destroy half of the building.

Just as soon as she set her weights down after her second rep, a voice rang out from the intercom: "All agents report to the hanger." Hazel shook her head and lifted the weights back onto the rack. The rest of her exercise would have to wait. This would be more important, anyway. But whatever it was, it would probably be complicated.

[brennalarosa]

Phia came clattering down the hall, having managed to get a nap. She worked best at strange hours anyway. In another few hours, she'd be half-asleep and surly again, but now, she wide awake and desperate to be of some use. She'd filled her arms with every book she had on symbols, runes, Native American lore, and languages. She'd even procured a Radio Flyer wagon, which she'd tied to her waist with an old belt, carrying more books.

"...Hot tramp/Daddy's little cutie/so fine/they never see her leaving by the back door--Oh, hi, Dr. Mayfair," she said in passing, then stopped, blinking. "Is there somebody in here with you?"

[professor]

Time: 10 minutes before the all agents respond alarm sounded.

In the matter of seconds the Bureau became instantly changed for lack of a better term. To start off:

Abe finds his tank has become filled with lime jello and the delicious rotten egg that he was about to dine on turned fresh and white.

Poor old deadhead his vast stash of candy turned into carrot and broccoli flavored vitamins.

Julius finds that all his sacrificial animals have been let out, numbers painted on their sides, and saddles strapped to them, even the chickens.

Frankie Walks into her room to find the lights off, when turned on her room has been turned pink to say the least. There is pink shag carpet, a heart shaped bed, walls covered with Jonas brothers and Hanna Montana posters. The pice de resistance is the large, pink diamond, Hello Kitty disco ball hanging from the ceiling. When she looked at it the lights dimmed and the ball started to turn in sync with the Cascada son "Every time we touch"

Present

Everyone get together Manning bellowed as the agents filed into the hanger. Manning has on a very strange coat that seems to be made of cat hair or something to that nature. This is increasingly odd becasue that it is quite hot in the room and Manning is covered in a heavy layer of sweat. He is also doing what some would call the "potty dance."

"Okay agentsssss...um....as you can telllll.....ah uh.....We seem to be having some sort of inciden....incidents around......Excuse me......." Manning then ran out of the room holding the seat of his pants. Another agent taking his place.

"Okay as Manning was saying before he had to ....um...leave. We seem to be experiencing some heavy phenomenon here. this is most likely tied to the earlier case it the house. We need to nip this in the bud while we can. I want all agents to to grab their gear and pack what they need and get to a safe location, any one else with any spiritual or exorcising experience to stay and help clean this place out." with that he stepped down from the pedestal and began passing out paperwork to other black suited agents.

[drjuliusmayfair]

Time seemed to stand still. Jules paused in mid-sentence, Legba laughed as time froze. He was unaffected by such tricks and walked through the BPRD HQ. He stopped at Frankies door and nodded. He strolled down the hall, watching as the trickster made Manning's new fur coat.

"Oh, ce jour va me garder divertir pendant des années à venir. Regarde, regarde ça! Ce garçon sait comment mettre des bâtons dans les roues! Ah, Papa Blanc Rouge, vous allez avoir un temps de nettoyer ce gâchis."

Time suddenly started up agian as if nothing had changed. Legba was gone, leaving Jules to start and stare at Anna, "What? Oh... ah." He looked back to where Legba hadbeen sitting, "I was... I mean there was someone but he left... I guess... Do you know what the... what the hell?" As he spoke, behind Anna, a stampede of animals with tiny saddles ran by. He stepped into the hall, "Those... Those are my animals..."

Behind him there was a loud snort and he turned slowly, a large white bull came around a corner. A chick ran by it with a very tiny jockey riding it. Jules didnt see the chicken, all he saw was the bull, "Oh my God... Anna... walk slowly into my office... no sudden movements. My sacrifice for Legba has been set free or escaped..."

The special white bull he had shipped in for a special ceremony. Specially spelled against tampering and mad as hell by the look...

[gyakusatsu]

"What's a guy gotta do to get some sleep..."

These words spilled from the necromancers lips as they prepared to wrap around a sweet, root beer flavored lollipop. The pale hand reached into a bowl by Deadhead's door and as it touched the contents, his sleepy, bloodshot eyes flew wide open, suddenly gazing upon a huge, gallon bowl full of veggie dietary supplements!

The poor man's chops, so ready for the sugary goodness, smacked hopelessly as he tried to comprehend the full meaning of this incident.
The bowl had had candy in it just moments before...
Hadn't it?

Slowly his eyes narrowed and, quite annoyed at being deprived of both sleep and sugar, he stalked out of his room.

He was about to cross an intersection of two corridors when suddenly a stampede of various animals rushed in front of him, their bestial cries following and preceding in a rather raucous manner. He walked forward into the hall and looked after them, rubbing his hairless head in confusion before a chicken with a saddle strapped to it's back, miniature jockey and all, ran through his legs.

The distressed foul clucked loudly and caused him to turn around in time to see a massive white bull at the other end of the hall. The German was speechless aside from the quiet utterance of a whispered swear in his native tongue. The great beast was a form fit for Dionysus, a mass of muscle and sinews that rippled beneath a majestic, white coat and terminated in two very sharp horns, and it was pissed.

[brennalarosa]

Phia yelped as she was quite nearly rundown by the whole cast of Old MacDonald's Farm. Swearing fluently in Spanish, she pressed herself against the wall.

"What in the name of--!?" she began.

And then, she saw the bull.

Phia was a city girl at heart, raised in a tradition that didn't really go in for blood sacrifices. Chickens and goats were denizens of the Petting Zoo, evil tempered beasts who would peck at your knees or knock you over. Bulls were big things, sports mascots or ill-fated victims of bullfighting arenas, or else something that chased Spanish men through the streets of Pamplona to test their machismo.

This was the biggest, angriest bull she'd ever met in person, which wasn't saying much.

She carefully tried to shuffle into the office, still dragging the wagon behind her and trying to be as small as she could manage.

"Manning's gonna blow a fuse," she muttered, beginning to sweat, "Dr. Mayfair, this feels... Familiar. VERY familiar."

[watchfulcub13]

So many agents gathered in the hangar. What were they all doing here? And what the heck was Manning wearing? He looked silly in the fur coat, and she barely stifled a laugh as he raced out of the room with his hands on his hind end. Hazel heard some kind of calamity in the hallway, but when she looked, she saw nothing. It sounded like animals. Weird... she thought, but said nothing as she focused her attention on the man speaking.

"...I want all agents to to grab their gear and pack what they need and get to a safe location, any one else with any spiritual or exorcising experience to stay and help clean this place out." Well, Hazy didn't have any spiritual experience, so she figured it would probably be a good idea to high-tail it out of there before things really got out of hand. She left the room and headed down the hallway.

As she passed the bathroom, Hazel laughed again at Manning's predicament, and continued on her way. She was still hearing that noise. Those animals. She turned around, and quickly slammed herself against a wall. There were animals of every type just racing past her. All wore little saddles and numbers painted on them. What the-? she thought. Who let those animals loose in here? This must have been the work of whatever spirit the mediums and such were supposed to be taking care of.

She made it to her room without getting trampled by the animals, and quickly began packing her stuff up. Haze figured that she had a little money, so she could put herself up in a hotel for awhile. Sure it wouldn't be a great hotel, but it'd be safer than whatever the heck was going on around here...

[Hazel exits thread]

[Frankie Guidicini]

"What the BLOODY HELL?!"

Frankie had just been wanting to go to bed. That was it. She had a long night translating some really obscure and difficult Russian text and she was tired. She just wanted to go to bed. And then she opened her door to find that a tasteless tween chick bomb had gone off in her room. There were so many pieces of disgustingly vibrant and bright furniture and accessories in her room she felt ill. Her record player was no longer there, instead there was a feathery CD player blaring obnoxious music.

"Every time we touch I get this feeling and every time we kiss I swear I can fly..."

Was that a Hello Kitty Tea Cozy covering her teapot? And little plastic teacups in the shape of the cartoon feline's head? Frankie's usually pale complexion got very, very red all of the sudden. "Chyort voz'mi!" She suddenly lapsed into Russian as she took off down the hall. She was going to find whoever the bloody hell did this and she was going to rip their spinal chord out through their stomach. "What Bakapor thought it was funny to do this? Zarasa!" Now angry some Russian-English hybrid was coming out and the bones in her arms were clicking menacing. She was closing to losing it and actually cutting a b*tch as she left her disgusting sugary sweet Kidz Boppish room just as the announcement was played over the intercom. She wondered how Manning would feel if she found the culprit and decapitated them in front of the assembled mass in the hangar?

Frankie happened to cross the same paths as Deadhead, Julius, and Phia just at the same time the animals and bull showed up. She had so much adrenaline coursing through her veins and she was so irritated at what had happened to her room and the lack of explanation that the apparently ticked off bull was the straw that broke the camel's back. Frankie wasn't really feeling rational right now as the bull pawed the ground and tossed it's head.

"Bring it, Mudak!" She challenged. The bull snorted and with a brisk stride, Frankie passed Julius, Deadhead, and Phia, pulling her fist back just as the bull decided to meet her. She threw a punch with all of the anger that she had in her and hit the bull in the side of the head so hard there was an audible crack. The determining factor of Frankie's punch was not the power behind the throw, but the density of the bones that made up her balled fist. The punch was so powerful that it knocked the pull out and it fell to the ground. Frankie was left with her fist throbbing with a dull pain and her chest heaving with unleashed fury. The bull let out a dull moan and closed its eyes. The rise and fall of its chest showed that it was unconscious, not dead.

The woman rounded on her fellow agents. "Who the bloody hell let the petting zoo loose?!"

[gyakusatsu]

Deadhead gaped speechlessly as Frankie took down the bull. Quickly he crossed himself and said a quick prayer thanking whatever eternal being there may be that he was still alive.
With a quiet "Danke", he strode past her, moving as quickly as he could towards the hangar lest he suddenly be confronted by an angry elephant or something of the sort.

"Sorry I'm late..."

He peaked into the room full of people just as the non-special agents began filing out...

"What I miss?"
He murmured shyly, not really directing the question at anyone in particular. He was still tired as ever and gravely sugar-deprived, leaving the poor exorcist rather spacey and not-completely-there...

Timidly, he squished past the mob of suits and ties and sat awkwardly in an empty seat surrounded by other empty seats, looking up innocuously at the agent that had apparently briefed everyone else.

[drjuliusmayfair]

Jules jumped back into the door jam as the bull fell and the ground shook. He wanted to stop and stare at the amazing spectacle that just unfolded in front of him, but he didnt have time. He checked to make sure the bull was still alive, which it was, just knocked out. He gave Frankie a look that was a cross between worry and thanks, "I don't know what the hell is going on." he rushed back into his office and grabbed his machete, strapping it to his belt.

"I believe it has something to do what happened yesterday at that house." He grabbed a bag of his hoo-doo trappings and rushed past Frankie, "We need to find Hartwood. My...sources... have led me to believe that whatever took over his body may still be anchored to him. All this isn't the work of a human prankster."

Above him, the lights flickered went out. The emergency lights flicked on, but they weren't the normal lights. Disco balls fell from the ceiling every few yards and the Bee-Gees started to play over the loud speakers.

"....AH! AH! AH! AH! Stayin' ALIVE! Stay'in ALIVE! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH..."

Jules paused, "Damn it. Thats going to be stuck in my head all day."

[Abe Sapien]

Liquid blue eyes blinked heavily against the opaque contact lenses before they slid closed, waiting several beats and reopened. No, the delectable and perfectly aged green eggs did not reappear and the bowl of pristine white ones, freshly broken free of their shell mocked him in eggy silence. Abraham hummed thoughtfully and tapped two fingers across his mouth, tracing the curve of his lips as his other arm folded across his chest, resting fingers in the crook of his elbow. “In the words of Alice Liddell, curious and curiouser. Indeed.” Well, he thought. Simple mistakes are easily made. “Oh.” The fishman picked up a nearby Tennyson book and turned it over. “There you are. I’ve been looking – ” Abe paused and took a deep breath, his gills filtering a strange smell. Was someone burning a citrus candle in the library?

Book in hand, Abraham twisted a foot behind and brought him around to face his tank. He wasn’t sure when he let go of the book but he was certain of the sharp pain that coursed through his right foot, taking the brunt of the spine. Convulsing forward, he managed a little hop and tore his gaze from the lime green coloring of his once blue tank. Rubbing the soreness from his toes, he straightened from his awkward pose and slipped between the pedestals that held his morning books and raised a hand to rest it against the tank’s reinforced glass wall. He jerked his hand back sharply and studied his palm as if he had been burned and was quick to pick his book from the floor just as Manning announcement came over the speakers. Abe placed the text on a chair and was out of the library, the heavy smell of lime Jell-O following him.

The hallways were no better then his once private sanctuary and he had to stop to let a herd of field mice pass, picking one up that fallen behind. A soft brown in color, it squeaked it’s discontentment and sniffed along his fingers before trying to nibble at the webbing between his fingers. Abe made quick work towards the meeting room, bypassing several insurgent animals but so far it seemed the mortal and tame were all that had escaped. He half expected faeries or the recent Irish troll that had hitched a ride on their plane a week ago to be the root of the problem but the fleeting images that had picked up earlier spoke of something else. Something he couldn’t put a clawed finger on.

Abraham rounded the corner and came upon the massive form of a beast with Frankie standing over. He choose wisely to not say anything and simply skirted around the creature, one hand still holding the mouse and the other stretched out at his waist. He quickly took count of the other agents milling in the hallway and then to the doorway of the once filled meeting room.

"What I miss?"

The fishman glanced up at the familiarly accented voice and curled his head. “Ostensibly… as much as I have.” The rest of his words were drowned out by the sudden flash of lights, darkness and the horrible sound of music from the 70’s. He winced, which consisted of closing one eye and curling his shoulders.

[Frankie Guidicini]

Frankie's lips pulled back into a snarl just as she felt the acid rising in her throat. The punch to the bull must have broken something, for the regenerative acid was bubbling up her esophagus. As lady-like as she possibly could with her subsiding rage, she spat upon the floor next to the animal. The floor sizzled and smoked and a hole was burned a quarter of an inch into the floor where the spittle had landed. Punching the bull had made Frankie feel better, if only for the moment. She looked at Julius as he responded.

"I don't know what the hell is going on." he rushed back into his office and grabbed his machete, strapping it to his belt.

"I believe it has something to do what happened yesterday at that house. We need to find Hartwood. My...sources... have led me to believe that whatever took over his body may still be anchored to him. All this isn't the work of a human prankster."

Prankster? Ah yes, finding that prankster would garner some results more satisfying than punching out a bull. Frankie was about to say something to her Bureau buddy when the lights went out and shortly returned in the form of disco balls and some loud, effeminate screeching. "Padla!" Frankie covered her ears and groaned. Right now she was actually missing the freezing desolation of Russia.

"Mayfair, while I'm not quite sure what is going on here," Frankie had to raise her voice above the music, "Point me somewhere and give me someone to hurt. I'm yours."

[brennalarosa]

"I'm in, too! I'm almost scared to see what's happened to my office." Phia dropped the wagon, or at least, what was left. The stampede had demolished it and books lay ruined on the floor, now. Thankfully, none of them were old enough to valuable. "Besides, if I'd figured this out before, this wouldn't be happening."

Phia gathered up the tattered and crumpled remains of her notes. Several sheets of disjointed self-debate ran on through the pages, made even more confusing by the damage to the paper.

Native influence unlikely... Runes garbled... Not Norse or Teutonic in origin. Vibrations seemed to read as Eastern influenced. Not Yezidi, too far east. Islamic? Fire, trickster. Could be Eshu. Eshu is electric and stormy. Think, idiot! Could be Jinni?