Log:Hell Knight

The Devil's Cut 2015/01/29 Frankie Grimm 1

Coffeebucks North

Welcome to Coffeebucks North! This delightful coffee store is part of a major franchise all around the world! They have stores everywhere. Their coffee selections are mild and standard, easily obtainable at all hours of day and night. Hungry? No problems. They have an assortment of pastries and deli goods for sale as well. A great place for relaxation or hanging out with friends.

Coffeebucks is famous for its coffeebucks; a little card that one can slide through the payment machines to get a quick coffee and settle payments easily.

A bridge on the top floor connects to Coffeebucks South. In case it gets too crowded here!

Want mass produced burnt coffee? Coffeebucks is your pleasure. The South one has a line, so the North one is the one Grimm picks. Coffeebucks can produce the blackest of black coffees for those who want to grow hair on their chest. But Grimm picks a froo-froo overly sweet latte drink; the white chocolate mocha with a raspberry shot, and a coffee cake. She's sitting at one of the tables sipping her drink and scrunching up her face. Yep. Way too sweet. So why did she need the coffee cake?

Frankie Ghostfist strolls into Coffeebucks from the street, hazel eyes swiveling about to absorb every little detail she can about the crowd within the store. Her gaze lingers on Grimm whilst the Tenebrator is busy scrunching up her face and bemoaning her confectionary choices. A moment later, Frankie moves on to enter the line at the service counter.

Peeling away several minutes later, Frankie heads directly toward Grimm. A cup of boiling black sludge is held in one hand, a plate of doughnuts rests in her other hand's grip. She doesn't bother to greet or inquire if she can join Grimm, Frankie just slides into the chair across from Grimm and cheerily intones, "Try a whole wheat doughnut. Might wipe the too sweet right out of you mouth."

Siiiiiip.

A...cheery Frankie? That's about as scary as a bright and bushy Grimm! But she gratefully accepts the offer and reaches for a whole wheat doughnut and takes a bite. It provides some relief as her face unscrunches itself. With falling crumbs, a wipe, and a swallow, Gabrielle nods in agreement. "Ohh god. Much better. Thanks!"

She gives her drink a suspicious look and a wide berth before looking back at Frankie and grinning. "So, how's things? Did the cops or you or anyone figure out the deal with those robot things?"

Frankie can be cheerful! It's not as weird as it sounds! Honest! Stop laughing. STOP.

Leaning back on her chair, Frankie adopts a pensive expression at the question. She sets her coffee cup down, the dark sludge within sloshing unsettlingly long after she's released it from her grip. Idly steepling her fingers, Frankie replies, "They were manifestations of a kind of weird spell. I couldn't pull anything useful from the scene or from the employees there. And, you know, not a cop with a warrant, so I couldn't exactly pull ay-vee data."

Grimm's eyebrows scrunch and do battle to try and meet at hte middle as she listens. "Weird. I didn't sense any magic from them. But maybe it was because I was busy, y'know, getting blasted by our own team," she mutters. She attacks the doughnut with another bite. "Mmmaffbe ee cou..." she swallows and tries again. "Maybe we could take a peak at the data another way?" And with no more doughnut in her mouth, she can grin slyly.

"I didn't really notice it at first either," replies Frankie, shrugging a little bit, "But I think part of that was just the relative weakness of the spellcaster. If I had to take a guess, I'd say we're dealing with some kinda novice or someone that just gained magical powers."

Cocking her head to one side, Frankie regards Grimm seriously for several moments. She eventually picks up her coffee and takes a speculative slurp.

"Assuming there is any more evidence to be had."

Grimm may or may not be thinking of legitmate methods of accessing said data. Who can tell with that sly grin? She makes a daring grab for her coffee again. Second time's the charm?

"Well, who knows...something else had to grab the artwork. Did people not see anything happen? Or did the items just vanish?" She takes a sip from her coffee and frowns slightly. "And is it even worth the effort? I mean, what was the value of all that stuff, anyway?"

"As far as I was allowed to see? They just vanished, basically in the same way the robots appeared," replies Frankie. She takes a sip of her coffee whilst her other hand moves to break off a piece of whole wheat doughnut. Turning the pastry part over in her hand, Frankie regards Grimm. "Probably not much, based on the artist's previous sales. The three pieces that didn't get stolen, however, had a major bidding war on them afterward. Sales easily in the 2 or 3 grand range."

Grimm snorts slightly. "Gee, that doesn't sound rigged at all, then. I guess the first place to look into is with the artists whose items sold for bank and who they're associated with." She purses her lips as she thinks for a moment and makes the mistake of actually sipping her coffee. It makes her serious, thoughtful expression look comical and pained. When it passes, she says, "Huh. It's probably less of a theft investigation and more of a fraud one, then. I mean, they stole their own artwork probably."

"Can't prove it," replies Frankie, "Which is why my investigation's trailed off. Not enough clues, not enough evidence, too many unknown variables."

The gumshoe sips her coffee, swishing sludge around in her cup as she regards Grimm. Popping that piece of whole wheat doughnut into her mouth, Frankie chews in a long, pensive manner whilst she regards the younger occult investigator across from her. Eventually, Frankie swallows and comments, "I already did some digging around for prior robberies with similar em ohs. Nothing popped. So we're definitely looking at a novice, but with what we got so far? Impossible to say if it's a first time art thief, a first time fraudster, or a super low budget fraud for hire. "

"Geez. If you can't find anything, they must've been more professional or prepared than I thought." Grimm indirectly praises Frankie's skills. She did track down the missing kid and the trail of magical sweets.

She plunks an elbow down on the table and props her chin up with her hand. "Hmm...and the collective the robots were claiming they were from? Just gibberish and not a hint?" They probably aren't that lucky. "So...novice thief. Novice mage. Making magical illusions that can pack a punch is kind of advanced. Even I can't really do that. I think. Huh." Something seems to occur to her and she gets sidetracked for a second before shaking her head and getting back on task. "So maybe some of the local purveyors of magical items and instruction can give us some clues."

"They didn't leave behind any tracks or anything I could get a scent off of," affirms Frankie, "It's impressive, though not totally surprising with the kind of magic involved."

Shrugging, Frankie breaks off another piece of doughnut. It too goes through the process of being spun through Frankie's fingers as she regards Grimm thoughtfully. Canting her head to one side, Frankie smiles a little bit and nods, "I checked my sources. Nobody in town is known for using the spell that was used. It's called Pop-up Creation. Creates sort of a..."

Frankie pauses a moment, trying to come up with the right words. She looks distant for a moment or three, setting her coffee down somewhere along the way as she crosses one leg over the other under the table.

"Sort of a physical manifestation from an image. The animated "pop-up" is sort of a mixture of the source material, both the image it was ripped from and some sampling of the creator's personality."

Grimm mentally chews on that piece of information. "Well...huh. So then the robots were from maybe a movie or a comic book originally? Or inspired by them. That could be a clue in a way. They're into sci-fi?" She grins optimistically, then sighs. "But who isn't, really. Okay, that doesn't narrow down anything. I'm going with the butler."

"Like I said: Whole lotta options, not enough evidence yet," replies Frankie. She pops that piece of doughnut into her mouth and chews for a bit. While she chews, Frankie's eyes actively sweep over the interior of Coffeebucks, refamiliarizing herself with its occupants and the distribution of its furniture. Her gaze eventually settles back on Grimm and Frankie shrugs, "We'll have to wait and see if another case like this... Pops up."

"Wait for another pop-up of the Pop-Up spell that nobody around town knows how to use. So then...what out of towners in the magic community DO know that spell?" Grimm ponders as she starts to pick some of the crumbling topping off of her coffee cake and pop them into her mouth.

"Dunno. None of my usual set of contacts and snitches seemed to know of anyone in town at the moment that was known for using that spell," replies Frankie after a long sip of her toxic sludge. I mean coffee. She shrugs her shoulders. "We need more evidence and for that, we need the perp to perform another crime."

Grimm nods thoughtfully. "Well, next time something weird comes up...--wait, strike that. Everything's weird in this city. But I'll try to keep an extra sharp eye out in the future. I still can't believe I didn't notice anything going on," she sounds disappointed as she pulls off some more pieces of her coffee cake and munches on them. "Usually I'm pretty situationally aware. And I didn't notice a thing."

"Like I said, Gabs," intones Frankie, swishing her coffee around in its cup, "It was a pretty weak signal. I really had to go looking to notice any sort of magical signature."

Aaauughh, it's like nails on chalkboard to her, hearing her name abreviated. "Guess we'll just have to hope for another break next time, Fran." Two can play this game, thinks Grimm.

Frankie's eyes narrow at Grimm. Her lips purse. All sense of cheer leaves Frankie's face and body.

Leaning forward, Frankie icily intones, "Would you prefer Grimm or D-E-D?"

"You can call me Grimm or Gabrielle, and I'll keep calling you Frankie," Gabrielle responds firmly with a challenging grin. "Gabs, Gabby, The Gabster, and all varients, are off the table."

"Fair enough," replies Frankie. She keeps her eyes narrowed and lips pursed as she coldly, calmly adds, "You call me 'Fran' ever again, Grimm, and I will beat your face in like a rug during spring cleaning."

Since they're exchanging threats, Gabrielle replies as she leans back in her chair and folds her arms over her chest, "Fine. And if you shorten my first name again, I'll dump you in an alternate dimension populated by Sunshine Bears that sing 'It's A Small World' non-stop." Just so they have an understanding.

Frankie leans back in her seat again, picks up her coffee, and takes a long swig of it. She sets down an empty cup and glares at Grimm. "So long as we both understand the rules."

Grimm nods and just smiles, back to friendly mode. "I believe we do," she says as she raises her sugar drink with a tiny bit of actually coffee in a salute to Frankie before taking a sip. At least she's become accustomed to sweet, sweet death.

"Good."

Frankie pops half a doughnut into her mouth and chews as she stares bore holes into Grimm's forehead.

Grimm's eyes are down here, Frankie. While Frankie's eyes try to develop the power to shoot lasers into Grimm's brain to deep-fry or scramble them, a clean cut, white collar middle-aged man pushes his way into the coffee shop. He's dressed in black slacks with a tucked in light blue polo shirt, a sweater vest, and a brief case, and he's packing a beer gut. Casual business attire.

He's sweating and out of breath. In this frigid weather. The only sort of 'workout' this man gets is at the golf course. He swallows and tries to control his breathing, runs his hand back over his hair to smooth anything out of place, and very quickly power walks to the men's restroom.

Frankie's nose crinkles up and her hazel eyes retreat from trying to bore holes in Grimm's skull. Her gaze instead flickers toward Captain Outtashape and the stink of his sweat and the pounding gushes of air he's gulping down and exhaling just as quickly. She sneers for a moment at the back of his head before shifting her attention toward her empty coffee cup. With a grunt, Ghostfist shoves herself to her feet and intones, "You want anything from the line, Grimm?"

Grimm takes inventory of what she has before asking, "Maybe a shot of espresso to cut through the sweet on my drink?"

Captain Outtashape disappears inside the restroom. Hopefully to towel off and put himself together.

"You should just learn to drink regular coffee," grumbles Frankie. She shrugs and heads for the service counter again, grumbling to herself as she goes. No doubt still grousing about having been called Fran. Or, perhaps, about those damn kids and their fancy coffee.

Gabrielle bemoans, "If I wanted regular coffee, I could make instant at home." But instant coffee is the Devil's work.

There's a sound that starts off quiet at first but is becoming steadily louder from outside. It sounds like beats in patterns of four. Clopclopclopclop....clopclopclopclop....clopclopCLOPCLOP...

Frankie orders two large coffees, black, and three espresso shots on the side. She also orders another plate of doughnuts, assorted this time, before she swipes her Coffeebucks card to pay. Only when her order has been placed does Frankie slowly turn around to glare out the windows toward the streets of the Towers district. No doubt, the gumshoe is already running through her mental index of equine threats.

Let's see. There's centaurs, a leisurely strolling Pterippi, the immortal horses Balius and Xanthus, the Maneating Mares of Diomedes, Snowmane the Avalonian Charger...there's a nice list of mystical equines.

Frankie folds her arms across her chest, one eyebrow raising as she watches and waits. There's really not a whole lot one can do until the threat makes itself properly known, after all.

And so Frankie waits and sees the threat finally oncoming as its path takes it out in an arc so it can angle straight for the huge windows of the coffee shop.

It's a mighty, coal-black stallion with fiery eyes and breathing out wisps of smoke and flame. It leaves flaming hoofprints on its wake. Its rider wears spiky, gothically orante armor of red and golden metal. His helm's visor covers his face. He carries a double-headed axe made of black iron bound in gold.

The stallion charges and with a shattering sound, it leaps through the window and over the occupied table stationed next to it. The patrons dive out of the way just in time, and the stallion lands by knocking another table away with its bulk to make room for itself. It snorts a short burst of flame as the rider pulls back on the reins.

"You cannot hide from me, Bartle! I will hunt you down and see you burn!" yells the Hell Rider.

"Now /THAT/ is an axe," comments Frankie about three seconds before the nightstallion smashes through windows. She collects her tray of beverages as they come up on the service counter and starts back toward Grimm and Grimm's table. The gumshoe may or may not be eyeing off the Hell Rider as she goes.

Having placed the tray down on the table, Frankie collects one of her cups of coffee and takes a long, obnoxiously loud sip of it when the Hell Rider has finished yelling. She looks up - and UP AND UP AND UP - at the knight upon his infernal steed as she lowers the cup from her lips.

"Who are you supposed to be, exactly?"

The hell steed clomps and stamps its hooves on the ground. "Whoa, Brimstone!" calls the Hell Rider. His eyes glow red within the helm as he casts his baleful gaze around the store's inhabitants. It doesn't seem to settle on any one person as he searches. At Frankie's question, his voice echoes, "I am the Hell Rider. I am only after one person. Stay out of my way, and you will not be harmed."

Brimstone the Hell Steed sniffs at the air and whinies maddeningly as it begins to stomp towards the restrooms. As the horse moves, people scatter from their tables to the far side of the store away from the restrooms.

Gabrielle had to duck down with some others as the horse smashed its ways through. Just now starting to get up and brush glass from her hair as she stares at the Hellrider. "Holy shick..." she just stares in amazement. As people crowd as far from the Hell Rider as possible, which is along the glass wall with entry door that the Hell Rider just smashed through, Gabrielle's hands grow dark. She makes a rising motion with her hands, and a wall of shadows rises up from the ground to interpose itself between the civilians and Hell Rider.

Frankie's senses reveal an aura of demonic magic surrounding Hell Rider and Brimstone.

"Hell Rider, got it," comments Frankie. She cocks her head to one side, jerking a thumb at Brimstone and Hell Rider as she looks over at Grimm. It's a very 'get a load of this guy' sort of gesture. Looking back toward the Hell Rider, Frankie starts strolling alongside Brimstone as hell horse and rider make for the restrooms.

"So, Hell Rider. What exactly do you want with this Bartle guy? What's your beef, so to speak?"

Grimm smirks a bit and nods silently at Frankie. She lets Frankie keep the man talking while she makes sure the innocent coffee drinkers can get out safely with a nice dark wall barricade to cover them.

Brimstone stops at the bathroom door and rears up just enough to smash the door in with its front hooves. The door rips from its hinges and slides across the gross tile floor until it crashes into the wall of the three-stall men's restroom.

Hell Rider warns Frankie, "The man is a deceiver. A charlatan! Tonight, he pays for his crimes." With that, he leaps down from Brimstone's back, opposite where Frankie was walking, and strides into the restroom. "Your time of stealing from the innocent is over, Bartle! Your dark deals are done!"

"Says the guy calling himself the Hell Rider and is fairly dripping with demonic magic," comments Frankie. She feels a bit naked without her Helligator Coat, but Frankie can adapt. Her hazel eyes flicker over Brimstone as she moves to pass the nightsteed and enter the men's room in Hell Rider's wake. One hand flashes out to try grappling Hell Rider's shoulder as she intones, "Maybe you should start from the beginning, Hell Rider, and give me a reason I should even remotely trust you to be doing the right thing here."

It doesn't take super senses to hear the sniveling person in the furthest stall in the bathroom, even if his feet aren't visible from underneath the stalls.

Hell Rider looks down at the hand gripping his shoulder. "I do not wish to harm you, but you will not stop me from dispensing justice," he tries shrugging her off in earnest.

With a simple jerk, Hell Rider shrugs Frankie off.

Frankie is strong by human standards, particularly for a woman, but she's not nearly as strong as the Hell Rider. She glowers at the back of his head when he jerks himself free of her grip. The gumshoe draws in a deep breath and takes a step forward, her hand coming up again as she murmurs what sounds like a prayer in Latin.

A moment later, Frankie's hand presses against the air immediately behind the small of Hell Rider's back. There is a pulse of light blue luminescence that resolves into a spell circle for an instant. It rotates once before winking out of existence as well, only to be replaced by a shimmering veil of blue-tinted, energized air that ripples into existence around Hell Rider.

"Would you damn well stop and answer some god damned questions, Hell Dick?"

"I do not have time!" roars Hell Rider. It's not one of those empty threats about not having time. There seems to be a timetable that is very real by the urgency of his voice. "This paltry spell cannot restrain me!" Brimstone whinies behind Frankie angrily. Hell Rider raises his axe and brings it down on the part of the barrier keeping him from Bartle.

The axe cleaves through the barrier before him. "Brimstone, handle the woman!" Hell Rider calls over his shoulder. The horse trots in with smoke tendrils rising from its nostrils. It raises up on its hind legs to try and clobber Frankie with one of its flaming hooves.

A flaming hoof comes down to clip Frankie's back.

The Spirit Barrier barely has time to finish materializing before Hell Rider rams his axe clean through it in a veritable explosion of mystical energies. Shards of the ruined wall crackle and fizzle against the wall, floor, and stalls before most of the construct simply evaporates.

"Seriously? You're going to have your hor-"

Frankie doesn't get a chance to finish her indignant statement. A flaming hoof hits her dead in the back even as she tries to juke around it. The gumshoe sails forward and into the tile hard enough to crack it. Brimstone may notice a shimmery limning of that light blue energy around Frankie's body on impact - or not, horses aren't known for their visual acuity.

Ghostfist does not immediately move. Or, well, do anything except lay there in a stunned heap.

The Spirit Barrier barely has time to finish materializing before Hell Rider rams his axe clean through it in a veritable explosion of mystical energies. Shards of the ruined wall crackle and fizzle against the wall, floor, and stalls before most of the construct simply evaporates.

"Seriously? You're going to have your hor-"

Frankie doesn't get a chance to finish her indignant statement. A flaming hoof hits her dead in the back even as she tries to juke around it. The gumshoe sails forward and into the tile hard enough to crack it. Brimstone may notice a shimmery limning of that light blue energy around Frankie's body on impact - or not, horses aren't known for their visual acuity.

Ghostfist does not immediately rise, though she does groan deeply. Grudgingly she tries to roll over, the better to swat at all of those stars, axes, and horses swimming around her head.

"Frankie!" Grimm's voice can be heard. No footsteps racing to the rescue. And maybe Frankie's just hearing things, but there's some strange whispers from beyond the bathroom door. Suddenly, it looks like someone released the kraken. Massive black tentacles crash into the Hell Steed and mash it against the door frame as they begin to wrap around the horse's body.

Brimstone brays and snorts flame and begins to violently squirm as it's body is encompassed by the thick giant tentacles that look like they should belong to a much larger creature.

Hell Rider stomps towards the last bathroom stall and tries to kick down the door with his axe at the ready. "Your time has come, Bartle! Time to send you to Hell!"

The door swings open as the sliding lock rips off the frame. It's the sweaty man from before, squat up on the toilet and hugging his briefcase to his chest. He's so startled by the sight of Hell Rider that he drops his briefcase right into the toilet. "P-p-please! I didn't hurt anyone! Honest!"

"There's nothing honest about tricking people out of their money, villain!" Hell Rider growls angrily.

"YOU'RE GOING TO KILL A MAN OVER MONEY?" roars Frankie as she seems to come back to her senses. The tiles under her hands start to ice over as the monster huntress presses herself to her feet. Swirling energy rapidly starts to form around her hands, turning the air white as snow starts to fall from Frankie's hands as she stares at Hell Rider in profile.

Curling her hand into a shape as though gripping something, chain links forged of ice start to *CLINK**CLINK**CLINK* into existence, dropping out of Frankie's hand a link at a time. She whips the ice chain up and back before lashing out, aiming to smash Hell Rider dead in the chest and heave him backward with an explosion of ice and freezing cold.

"We'll talk about your guilt or innocence after I'm done dealing with Jumbo, Bartle. You keep your fat ass on that toilet like a good boy," snarls Frankie as she turns to track Hell Rider.

Fire and ice collide, and while Hell Rider grunts at the impact and the armor creaks, fire wins! And the Hell Rider stands firm with axe in hand. "This swindler has scammed dozens, possibly even hundreds of families! It is not a victimless crime!" Hell Rider shouts in anger, his eyes blazing red hot.

Brimstone tries to buck and stamp, but he can't free himself from the ever tightening tendrils. The Hell Steed turns its head towards Grimm, who cannot be seen from Frankie's perspective, and lets out a blast of flame at her in a fiery snort that puts flamethrowers to shame. Frankie can feel the heat from where she stands as a blast of superheated air washes over her.

Flames snap, crackle and pop. Like the cereal. And Gabrielle screams in pain and some anger. "YEEOOWWWW! You evil, miserable nag!" The tentacles throttle Brimstone's body and smash him against a wall again.

Even with four legs, the Hell Steed looks rattled as its battered against the wall of the restaurant, sending plaster scattering on the floor and leaving a sizeable impression on the wall.

Fire and ice collide, and while Hell Rider grunts at the impact and the armor creaks, fire wins! And the Hell Rider stands firm with axe in hand. "This swindler has scammed dozens, possibly even hundreds of families! It is not a victimless crime!" Hell Rider shouts in anger, his eyes blazing red hot.

Brimstone tries to buck and stamp, but he can't free himself from the ever tightening tendrils. The Hell Steed turns its head towards Grimm, who cannot be seen from Frankie's perspective, and lets out a blast of flame at her in a fiery snort that puts flamethrowers to shame. Frankie can feel the heat from where she stands as a blast of superheated air washes over her.

Flames snap, crackle and pop. Like the cereal. And Gabrielle screams in pain and some anger. "YEEOOWWWW! You evil, miserable nag!" The tentacles throttle Brimstone's body and smash him against a wall again.

Even with four legs, the Hell Steed looks rattled as its battered against the wall of the restaurant, sending plaster scattering on the floor and leaving a sizeable impression on the wall.

In his righteous anger, Hell Rider raises the axe up high, its shadow cast over the cowering Bartle who stares up in absolute terror. "I don't want to die, I don't want to die! I'll give you anything! ANYTHING!" he begs for his life. But the Hell Rider is not swayed as he begins to bring down his axe.

Icy chain links explode on impact with Hell Rider's armor. Frankie simply whirls her length of icy chain around and around again, building up both momentum and new links of icy chain as she goes. As Hell Rider upraises his axe, intent upon cleaving Bartle in twain, Frankie whips her icy chain out again to wrap it around the haft of Hell Rider's axe and wrench the double-bladed head of the axe aside such that Hell Rider annihilates the side of the stall instead.

"Did I say you could kill him?!"

SHUNK!! The axe buries itself into the wall after passing mere inches from Bartle's head. "Why do you protect this snake from his richly deserved infernal retribution!?" Hell Rider demands to know. "I do not wish to harm you," he pronounces as with a yank, he frees his axe. It's consumed by flames and reforges into a spiked mace. "But you leave me no choice, woman!"

"Because monsters don't get to judge men for their earthly crimes," roars Frankie. The monster huntress moves in quick, ice chain snapping and crackling in the air as she builds up momentum with it again. She swings the chain around, attempting to intercept the axe again.

"Because you refuse to talk when it would be in your best god damned interest," snarls the huntress even as the flaming axe smashes through icy link after icy link in an ever increasing spray of ice shards. Frankie's eyes light up in recognition of failure an instant before the axe *WHOCK*s into her shoulder and slams her into the tile floor hard enough to shatter not just tile, but the subfloor entirely.

Frankie bounces off - out? - of the crater in the floor before bouncing, skipping, and hopping across the men's room floor to smash into a sink. She just sort of lays there for the moment, dazed and confused and bloody from the savaging she's just taken.

Brimstone blows out a stream of flame, which Gabrielle manages to duck under to avoid getting singed.

Hell Rider stares down at Frankie on the floor as the spiked mace is consumed with fire, becoming an axe again. "He has already been judged. He had to die. Talking to you will not change that or complete my sworn duty."

He turns his intent gaze back on Bartle. It's a good thing Bartle is on the toilet, because he might be using it at this very second as he stares in terror and tries to avoid the axe descending down upon him.

It's hard to see what's happening in the stall with the walls blocking the view. But what is heard is a meating impact and a gurgled scream. The flailing of limbs and a body collapsing. Bartle's feet hit the ground as he falls seated onto the toilet he was perched upon. They twitch and kick with little control.

"God. My everything hurts," groans Frankie from under the sinks. She presses herself slowly up to her feet, staggers a little bit to the left, then a little to the right, and eventually manages to stabilize herself by hanging onto the sinks. All of them.

More heated flames blow out down the short hallway out into the coffee shop. There's no yelling from Grimm, but the tentacles squeeze and the hell steed kicks and tries to buck, it's head drooping as the steed loses all fight. The tentacles slide away and drop the unconscious Brimstone on the ground, it's massive bulk blocking some of the doorway.

Hell Rider's axes comes up again, one side of the blade bloodied. He begins to chop downwards again on Bartle.

Frankie sees the axe come up again. She swings her arm out in an almost lazy arc, a chain of luminous light blue energy sailing forth from her hand to wrap around the axe handle again. With a sharp tug just as Hell Rider tries to bring the blade down again, Frankie hooks the labrys-like weapon on the wall of the stall.

"You still fight for this worm? I underestimated you and tried to spare you. I will not make that mistake again," Hell Rider intones between clenched teeth.

Gabrielle's shadows withdraw and fade away as she steps over the horse to try and get into the entryway of the restroom. It's convenient that the unconscious Brimstone is keeping the door propped open with her even while asleep. Good horsey. She spots the trail of blood that's starting to slowly make its way from the stall to the drain in the bathroom. "Oh...oh shick," she says in shock, then glares at the Hell Rider that Frankie has been managing to keep at bay. She raises a hand at the damned rider, and a torrent of darkness flies towards him.

Hell Rider gets knocked into the rear wall of the bathroom, but remains standing upright. "Another champion of evil? To side with the likes of Bartle? He may act innocent, but his greed knows no bounds!"

The Hell Rider's mind is set on his task. He raises his axe again to swing a death blow at Bartle. Gabrielle sprouts a tentacle to try and grasp the weapon, but the tentacle sails over the axe as he's swinging. "No! she curses as she can't stop it.

Despite valiant efforts on the parts of the heroes to stop the demonic powered juggernaut, the Hell Rider shakes off their attempts and brings his axe down on Bartle a final time. Whatever sounds of twitching and gurgling stop. With a forceful jerk, Hell Rider frees his axe again. "At last. Justice is done," he announces with relief and satisfaction.

Frankie lashes out again with her Spirit Chain, but her attempt to tangle the axe goes wide, smashing magical energy into the wall beyond Hell Rider and Bartle. She snaps the chain back, eyes widening as the axe comes down upon Bartle with a meaty sound of impact and, no doubt, a spray of blood. The huntress snarls out, "This isn't justice."

The bloodied axe is consumed by fire once again and reforges into a long handled scythe. "He deserved no better. This was a fitting death for vermin such as he," Hell Rider intones as he slices the scythe through the air. It cuts the very fabric of space as a tear parts in the air. "Come, Brimstone," he calls to the steed, which disappears in a gout of flame as the hell knight steps through the tear, which seals behind him.

"****," opines Frankie as Hell Rider and Brimstone both vanish from this plane of existence. She promptly reaches up to massage her jaw, trying to decide if she lost another tooth to the war on monsters. Grunting, Frankie looks over at Grimm. "Demons suck."

Grimm nods weakly at the grizzly scene. She's seen a few awful things. "That...that b****** was fast...and tough..." she murmurs in shock. "I, uh...better call Starguard or the police or something to deal with the body," she says as she looks paler than usual.