Starring:
Summary:
A portal opens up in the North Hollywood Regional Library which deposits the Groosalugg as well as a nasty creature right in people's path.
Date It Happened: December 29th, 2001
Non-Fiction
North Hollywood Regional Library
Evening has fallen in LA and the library is getting ready to close. There are a few scragglers, those who love books, who have forgotten the time, or perhaps just have no other place to go. As always, it's mostly quiet as it is a library. Mrs. Bradley is going around to those left behind to let them know in her no-nonsense tone that the library is about to close, so they should either put their books back or take them out because they're going to have to start reading them somewhere else but here!
Moxie is maybe not the first person one would expect to find in a public library, but having far too much time on her hands, she's discovered that they do have magazines, so it's not all boring stuff. Not bothered with a table, she's taken to sitting on the ground at the end of a random row, her back against the wall, her legs straight out in front of her, crossed at the ankle. The magazine sits open on her lap and she flips through it noisily and not exactly delicately. A couple of the pages maybe get a little ripped, big deal. She can hear the librarian doing her rounds, but doesn't rush to leave, finishing the page she's looking at before flipping the periodical shut and using the wall to help push herself to her feet.
Dajan has enough money to check the books out, but why do that when you have a pen-cam and a computer with a USB connection? Click. Click. Click. The astrology texts she wants to get a little more familiar with are committed to memory. Well, the memory stick, anyway. She glances up as the librarian announces closing time. "Crud," she mutters, and flips pages faster.
Francis is slouched in a comfy chair, working his way through this week's Economist with a Neanderthal scowl. Reading is hard. Especially when you're blonde. He looks up rather grumpily as the librarian in charge tells folks to get a move on, but doesn't protest. He's law abiding in all things, even the teeny ones, apparently.
Similarly, Dan is seated within the reading area — but he's not reading. There's a book open in front of him, but his attention is mostly fixed on his surroundings, and the notebook in his lap is being scribbled in hastily. And he appears to be recording the dialogue of Mrs. Bradley and anyone who happens to speak with her, as well as the movements of some of the library's patrons. It's good practice and good for observation skills..
As Mrs. Bradley makes it to Moxie and Francis, giving a meaningful glare toward Dan and his scribblings, in the Newspaper and Magazine section (also known as current events) something strange begins to happen. There's a shimmering, a strange whooshing noise and something almost unwordly happening. In fact, that's a very apt way to put it as there's a strange light and then suddenly the pages of Dajan's book are wildly flapping out of her hands, the Economist will blow away from Francis if he's not careful, Dan's notebook will be hard to continue to write on and all those magazines are about to flutter off the shelf with the distinct sound of glossy pages flapping and hitting the marble floors. Something strange is happening in this public library. The atmosphere is made all the stranger when a furry four legged beast comes bounding out of the portal, scrambling on the marble floors, claws clicking.
Moxie recognizes Francis as That Cop, and gives him a somewhat dirty look. Just for existing, mostly. But she doesn't have too much time to get herself into trouble since there's that really weird thing suddenly happening over by the periodicals. "Uhhh," is her very eloquent response to this, as she takes a goodly step back from the action. She peers into the light though, bringing a hand up to make it a little clearer. The beast she's really not expecting, and she casts a glance around at the grown ups, waiting for one of them to, you know, do something? In the meantime, she'll just be taking another step back.
You paged Groosalugg with 'They never really said what a Mofgan beast from the Scum Pits of Ur are, so that's what I'm making it!'
Dajan yelps, clamping down on an oath, as the book flutterflutters in her hands. "What the—" And then she stops, book falling from suddenly nerveless fingers as a big furry thing turns up in the middle of the library. She'd know if this was a friend from LA Film school using the library. It's not; so the assumption must be that this is what it appears to be. "Ok, Mrs. B — why don't you make sure there's no sixteen year old upchucking in the ladies, huh?" She turns the woman toward the restrooms and gives her a slightly ungentle shove. She doesn't run after her, though.
And after the demon comes a man. A man who either came out of a sword and sorcery novel…or an extremely trashy romance novel. His muscular body and Fabio style hairdo make both possibilities equally likely. He wears leather armor, and strapped to his back is a massive, extremely authentic looking broadsword, made of the best Pylean steel the dimension had to offer. He proves how authentic it is by drawing it immediately. He says, "Stand back, friends. I shall slay the Mofgan and present its head to princess Cordelia!" With that, it's time for the mighty Champion of Pylea to do battle. For he is the Groosalugg, and this is what he prefers to do.
Francis is totally the Man, yes, in more ways than one. And then there's a…..what the hell IS That, anyhow? Francis up on his feet in an instant, magazine forgotten. "Wait, what the hell do you think you're doing?" he asks, as Conan the Whomever steps up. "Is that yours?" he wonders, pointing at the beast like's gonna cite the barbarian for breaking the leash laws.
Dan is not oblivious to the glaring from Mrs. Bradley, and he quietly closes up the notebook and the book in front of him in preparation for packing it in and going home — but then suddenly his notebook flies out of his lap and goes skittering across the floor. He instinctively goes after it before he even realizes the absurdity of a gust of wind rushing through a closed library. Then, however, as he's bending down to pick it up, he spots the Thing. And he freezes. Oh god. It's happening again. The strange things that eat people and kill things. Quickly snatching up his notebook, he backs as far away as he can from the Thing and the He-Man that follows.
For Mrs. Bradley's part, she freezes when the oversized almost panther-like creature comes out of the - ironically enough Anthropology section - of the library. And then faints when a man out of her romance novels bursts out after it. She's out for the count, that's for sure. The Mofgan beast growls at Groosalugg and gets it's footing on the strange floor that it's not quite used to yet. Circling like the predator that it is, it flicks it's eyes around at those gathered and decides upon the smaller, younger victim. Smallest equals weakest, right? Lunging, it goes right for Moxie releasing a terrifying howl as it attempts to make a kill.
"Is he for real?" Moxie asks of no one in particular, though she's not quite so young that the weird guy doesn't get a second look. But definitely not a third, since she's busy by then trying not to die. As the creature suddenly lunges right at her, she lets out a shriek and leaps back, away from the beast, trying to get out of pouncing range. She's sort of in a blind panic at this point, no real plan to her actions, just … dodge. And preferably not get eaten or mauled or in any way killed.
Groosalugg isn't about to let anyone be harmed by the beast. And before anyone else needs to do any saving of the girl it attacks, forth steps the noble warrior. Apparently, he doesn't think it's a pet, because when he parries the evil beast's attack, he parries with the sharp part of that sword. And there's a fairly good chance his blade will slice through what defenses it has. He has killed many of these things before, and he knows how to deal with it. When somebody asks if it's his, he only says, "Mine to slay."
"Cordelia?" Dajan has a moment to repeat. "Princess Cordelia?" Well, whatever, BeastMasterHottieBoy. But then the monster's lunging after Moxie. And Dajan's lunging to get there first and tackle the girl into the shelves before the beast can sink its jaws in. Moxie's quick, and the Groosalugg's quicker, though, so she just ends up slamming into a bookshelf; just barely enough time to get her arms up before the — WHUMP — impact.
"Well, real enough," Francis says, practically. And safety rounds or no, firing indiscriminately in a populated place is just asking for trouble, so he holds fire - he's got a pistol in hand, which has appeared from somewhere like a magician's trick. Groo's working on the problem, it'd seem. Doubly so when Daja pulls out the heroics. "Fuck," he says, under his breath. The backup trick is even less suitable for a library.
"Look ou— !" Dan does take a few steps forward as though to dive for Moxie as well, but, well, everyone else seems to have it in check. So he merely stands there and watches in amazement and fear. The name 'Cordelia' is barely registered in his mind.
Were Mrs. Bradley awake, she would certainly chastise Francis for his language. However, she's not and it's just as well so she wouldn't be able to see what is going on in her library at the moment. The beast howls in pain when Groosalugg's sword cuts through it's claws, right to the quick of them. As it lands, it tumbles slightly on itself but skids to a stop on the slippery surface and wheels around, trying to keep between it's prey and the Groosalugg. Swiping at the evil creature that is trying to deny it a meal, it backs up and also swipes at Moxie. Dajan's attempt to help Moxie, though, has it's own consequences. The bookshelf she slammed into wobbles back and forth, back and forth for a few heart-stopping moments before it tumbles backward in the direction of Dan and Dajan, a shower of books precluding it's toppling.
Groosalugg would do something about the bookcase, but the beast is in the way. Also, it's attacking. He was prepared for such an attack, and his sword is in position to parry the incoming claw. It's one of the best ways to fight…defending yourself and wounding your opponent with one blow. It's very efficient. But you can't get a killing blow that way. You can only weaken it. And clearly, this environment is dangerous for a fight. After parrying the claw, he closes with the beast. There is a special method to killing a Mofgan Beast. He uses a series of feints. If he does it just right, the beast will leave itself open…and then he can finish this battle.
Moxie lands hard, the breath knocked from her, but in one piece, so she's not going to complain (well, she might, but she doesn't have the breath to do it, so she's quiet for the moment). She just watches with wide eyes as the strange-talking hot guy takes the crazy creature on, a hand coming up to brush the hair from her eyes. She's not exactly prepared for the second attack, trying to scramble out of the way with another series of shrieks as the creature comes at her again, but it's awkward and ungainly for being sprawled on the floor, and she ends up getting struck across the upper body, though her efforts maybe mean it isn't as deadly as it could be.
Dajan is a little stunned by the impact. Otherwise she'd have a trick up her sleeve to not get flattened by a bookcase. However, the falling books jar her out of tweeting birds-and-circling-planets-and-stars land long enough for her to scramble out from under the shelf. Unfortunately, this puts her back toward the floor, and possibly close enough to distract the beast. The bookshelf, however, may end up hitting one of its fellows, resulting in a domino effect. Or it may just land on Dan, whom Dajan hadn't been aware of.
But Dan is facing the bookshelf when it starts to topple, and he's not inclined to let it flatten him. Or Dajan, for that matter. So when it starts to topple, he leaps forward to meet it and throws his arms out straight to prop it up. It's heavy, but he's no weakling, and he has the advantage of leverage. The notebook and pen in his hands, however, fall to the floor and are lost as books come raining down from the tilted shelf.
Well, the only safe way to deal with this is to get up at point blank. So that's what Francis tries to do, relying on Groo to distract the monster, as he edges up, trying to get a clear, close shot on the demon's head…..and at an angle that won't pot some unfortunate library patron.
There are only so many places a champion can be at once. And it's good that he's there to try and take care of it as it's already drawn blood from Moxie. The swipe is a powerful one, likely to be deep, but mostly just to show the others that this is its prey and that it will regard it as such. It doesn't want its prey to be dead just yet. The low grumbling in its throat continues and The feints are mostly in good order, keeping the beast occupied enough that it doesn't see Francis approach and also keeps it just open enough to for an attack from Groo.
The bookshelves are slightly easier to manage in that they don't come with claws. What little books are left clinging to their shelves topple over onto Dan. It's a heavy bookshelf, and while he manages to catch it, the bottom starts slipping out from underneath on the floor which holds little purchase with wood. Either he needs to get out from under there or he's going to be crushed.
Aha! That is the opening he wanted. And once his technique is done, he comes in hard after the evil Mofgan beast. He DID notice it hurt a girl, and that is just not acceptable. For this, it shall pay with its life. His blade flashes forward, all the easier because it's occupied with prey as well as himself. He drives hard with the sword, meaning to run it through with his blade. The advantage to being a native is, he knows its heart isn't in the center of its body. It's much lower. And he stabs appropriately. "I shall be your end, beast!"
Moxie can't really do much at this point other than curl up protectively with a little sound of protest, wrapping her arms over the wound and pulling her limbs in not unlike a potato bug exposed to the light. Her eyes and teeth clenched against the pain, about the most she can do is try to slide a little further back from the action and hope the others can keep it from coming at her again, leaving a smear of blood in her wake.
Dajan's nose is keen enough to smell shed blood. The beast and Groo are still in close quarters, and the blond guy with the gun seems to be waiting for an opening again. Dizzily, she casts about for Moxie, and crab-walks on hands and feet, trying to move smoothly so as not to attract the monster's attention. "I'm comin' kid," she hisses through clenched teeth, her vision already clearing from the knock earlier.
Frankie? Well, he's eager to help. The library's close confines echo with the report of a .45, as he does his best to simply shoot the monster in the head. He's never fought one of these before, but what beast can just brush off a bullet to the head? Let's hope it's not this one. His face is set in a rictus of anger, teeth bared.
Dajan's safely out from beneath the shelf, so Dan is more than happy to get out from under it and let it fall. Even if it does fall on top of the pile of books that now obscure his notebook. No time to mourn, though, because then there is the deafening crack of a .45. Dan jumps at the sudden sound and instinctively half-crouches, covering his head with both arms. Spotting the blood and Moxie, he follows Dajan toward the girl with the intent to help
Those still left in the library that didn't, for one reason or another, hear the sounds of the fight happening in the reading room near Anthropology shriek and flee at the sound of the rapport, the noise of which follows them down the hallway in echoes. It's not a creature of this world, so the gunshot to the head may not have been the only way to kill it. However, the Groosalugg is right. Between the stab to the lower-than-chest-placed heart and a .45 to the head, the creature staggers forward a step and then collapses with a thud. What also collapses with something much louder than a thud is the bookshelf that Dan was holding up. With a loud crack, it slams into the marble floor, padded only by the pile of books it already toppled.
Groosalugg is now going to decapitate the fallen beast. He did say he would bring its head to Princess Cordelia, after all. And that requires a nice clean slice through the neck. "A fitting token for Princess Cordelia." Then he looks around at everyone else…and notices the hurt maiden again. "Maiden, are you alright?" That would be to Moxie. At least he thought to leave the head on the library floor while checking on Moxie. As for the library…pity their carpet cleaning bill. Blood out of the carpet is bad. DEMON blood out of the carpet? Good luck.
Moxie lets out a little shriek as the gun goes off, rather jumpy after nearly being killed and all. She'd probably shriek louder if she weren't a little in shock from the pain and all. It's enough that she doesn't even bother to correct that she's not a kid, dammit. She's not looking in great shape, really, and just kind of hangs tight, curled up in her little ball. The loud noise of the bookshelf hitting the floor gets another quieter noise of complaint, while the strange-speaking guy's question doesn't get much more than a groan from her.
"Nice job," Francis says, utterly matter of fact, nevermind that this whole affair should really be a hallucination. Perhaps he's hoping it is. He nudges the demon with a toe, tentatively. "What was that?" he asks of Groo, tone utterly conversational.
Dajan reaches Moxie's side, and runs her hands over the other female, about six inches from her skin — not actually touching her. The germs or demonic venom or who-knows-what from the beast's claws have the kid already starting to burn with fever. And the blood is still seeping from the wound. But not for long. Dajan's hands find the broken skin and hover above the wound. Her lips move in syllables she never remembers afterward — magic literally in her blood. But the wound closes rapidly, healing rapidly to a tender pink scar. It's another few moments, though, before the fever breaks as well, leaving Moxie in a sweat. Dajan herself is also a little sweaty from the effort once all is said and done. "You're gonna be okay," she tells her 'patient'.
Dan makes it to Moxie's side not long after Dajan, and he's already ripping off his overshirt to create a bandage. But there's a muscle shirt beneath that. Just as he's ripped the overshirt down the center of the back, he glances down and finds … a scar. All. Healed up. And stuff. So he basically ripped one of his shirts for nothing. Oops. But what's more important is that Dajan basically just healed the girl in a few seconds. Healed her. He stares at her, dumbstruck, then glances over at Groo. There's that name again. "Princess Cordelia?" He knows someone by that name. It only takes him a few seconds to tie it in with the Cordelia. Because strange crap like this doesn't happen around anyone else. "You know her?"
Groosalugg nods to Dan. "Indeed, I do. I was her Champion, and she was to be my princess. Alas, her noble duty took her back to this world. I was not able to follow her right away, for I was given a kingdom to rule. I could get to her no sooner then this." He sounds apologetic.
Francis wonders, clearly a step or two behind here, "Cordelia who?" It's starting to seem like something out of Kafka, here.
Moxie does not know what the woman is doing to her, and it would probably get some serious snark from her if she were in top form. So maybe it's just as well she's forced to keep her mouth shut on account of really not feeling very well, since, thanks to Dajan, she slowly starts feeling better. Not 100%, but she's able to unfurl after the fever breaks, looking around with glassy eyes, blinking in absolute confusion. "Huh?" She looks between the others for some sort of answer here to the question she hasn't actually managed to ask. The talk of some princess hasn't even registered yet.
"News for you, son," Dajan tells the Groosalugg. "Your timing's a little off. Your Cordelia? She's not so much a noble princess these days. In fact, I think something's wrong with her." She considers the crowd, before shrugging. "Bespelled, or possessed, best guess…" She fidgets in her pockets, finding her cellphone and hitting a number from the memory. The same number Cordelia herself dialed into the phone when she borrowed it only days ago. "Let's see if somebody freakin' picks UP this time…"
Dajan apparently knows more about Cordelia than Dan does, so he just turns his attention to Moxie. "You're all right. Can you stand up?" That seems the next step. He even offers a hand down to her to help her up, if she wants.
Groosalugg says, "Truly? She has been bewitched by a warlock? Point me towards him, and I shall take his head as I did the beasts!" And lest anyone doubt that claim, there IS a decapitated demon lying there as proof he means what he says.
The cop? The cop is just listening, wearing an increasingly bemused expression. One hand is slinking for his cellphone, as if he intended to call this in. Uh, dispatch, what's the code for dimensional incursion, complete with demon visitor?
Moxie gives a hesitant nod, not entirely sure if she can stand up or not. But after taking a moment to assess her situation, she reaches a somewhat shaky hand to accept Dan's, needing the help to get up - thankfully, she's a wee thing, and thus pretty light. "I - What happened?" she asks, looking up at Dan with her eyes still slightly glazed from the effects of the fever and the adrenaline and the shock. She looks past him to peer at the strange dude. "I didn't dream him?" There's a slight edge of airy surprise about that. He … does seem not unlike something a teen girl would dream up, no?
"I'm not getting an answer," Dajan says, in an irritated tone, flipping her phone shut again. "They're at the Hyperion Hotel, she told me, but I don't think she went there herself. The little visitor in her penthouse was driving, last time I saw her." She points at her head to indicate Cordelia's probably still not in her right mind. "And her people …they never seem to be around when you need 'em." She sees Dan has Moxie covered. "Dunno if it was a warlock, or what. Sorry I'm not of much help." She levers to her feet as well, wobbling a little from adrenaline and effort. She tries another number. "The agency I was at the other day — they might have another contact number on her application if she's not staying with the Hyperion Hotel people…" She wanders toward the door, waiting for an answer. A glance back at the Groosalugg. "Where am I supposed to find you if I do finally catch up with her, anyway?"
Groosalugg says, "I know not. I have not yet found a place to stay in this world." Really. He came here with nothing but his clothes and that sword. He certainly doesn't have money. And he probably doesn't have food, either, unless he wants to threaten somebody at swordpoint. And a cellphone? Haha, yeah right. "Perhaps some of the princess's comrades may be about? There was the great Champion Angel, the great scholar Wesley, the warrior Gunn, the maiden Fred, and Krevlorneswath of the Deathwok Clan."
Moxie is starting to come around a little more, thoughts at least slowly forcing themselves through the treacle that is currently her brain. She carefully readjusts her shirt, both to stop the bloody garment from sticking to the new scar, still tender to the touch, and also to make sure the slashed thing isn't showing any of what little she has to show. While the events are still fuzzy, Dan's mild attempt at a lie (of omission, at least) gets a flat look from the girl. "I'm not stupid," is her grateful reply, though her tone is still a little wavered. "Yeah, I'm, uh… staying with this guy. I could take a cab."
Frank is mumbling into his cellphone, having dialled 911, while more or less eavesdropping. SHould he have called animal control? "So, everyone knows Cordelia but me?" he tries again, oddly tentative.
Dajan sighs. Only in Los Angeles. "Well, until we can find Cordelia, and the rest of her people— " A pointed look at Groosalugg indicates, hopefully, that her champions, the scholar, the warrior, and that Deathwok guy are all her people. "You can sleep on the floor at my place if you need to. Because that guy— " A thumb toward Francis, "Will probably try to arrest you for indecent exposure and if not him, somebody higher up will want to know who is responsible for puddles' little accident here." A toe nudges the headless carcass. Ew.
"You're sure? You should probably be careful going around alone right now." The other conversation gets his attention momentarily and Dan pipes up with: "I know where the Hyperion is. I could take you there, if you want. They're all there, I think." Francis gets a smile and a shrug. "Small world?"
Groosalugg says, "Perhaps it would be best to stop briefly by the princess' place of residence. I would not wish to unduly impose upon your hospitality, maiden." Dajan didn't introduce herself, so she's going to be called maiden till she tells him otherwise. If Cordelia's not there, perhaps at least one of her allies is.
"I don't," Moxie replies without thinking, as she catches Frank's tentative question. And then she realizes she answered The Cop and scowls a bit, clearly already in a great mood from the being attacked and all. Looking back to Dan, she sways slightly on her feet but still manages to roll her eyes at his concern. "I think I can handle myself." Yes, clearly.
"Perhaps it would," Dajan agrees. She plucks a pad and a pen out of the pocket of her jeans and scribbles down her number and her address. This she hands to Dan. "If it turns out that nobody's at the Hyperion and muscles here still needs a place to crash, go ahead and come on over. I can probably even scare him up something a teense more appropriate to wear." In San Francisco, no one would bat an eye, but eventually somebody in LA would notice. "Good luck finding your princess," she tells Groosalugg. "And you — eat a bunch of protein and drink a lot of water until that's done healing." This to Moxie. "Me? I'm gonna go get a Fatburger." And with that, she's heading for the door, ignoring the unconscious librarian and all else. She's done her Good Samaritan bit fort he night, twice-over.
Francis has apparently decided to come along. Not that he's said as much, but….clearly this requires the attention of Los Angeles' Finest.
"That's why you're wobbling all over the place, no doubt," Dan responds wryly. To Groo, he adds, "Let's get this young woman home first, then I'll take you to the Hyperion. One of them should be there, at least." Maybe the slave girl. Yeah!
Groosalugg nods. "Of course. The safety of the maiden is a far greater concern then any concern of mine. I was not wounded during the battle." There are a lot of maidens around, at the moment, but only one seems to require medical attention.
"Look, I'm not telling you weirdos where I live," Moxie informs them levelly, though she doesn't quite manage to point exactly at them. "Just get me a cab. I'll be fine." She levels them with as challenging a look as she can manage in her current state. She's had a lot of practice at challenging looks, so it's not that bad, really.
"Then you can come with us until you feel better," Dan states blandly, shuffling over to check on Mrs. Bradley. His notebook is lost under the pile of books and bookshelf, but he can't bother with it right now. After ensuring the librarian isn't dead or injured, he waves the other two over — and offers a hand to Moxie so she doesn't topple over again. "Let's go."
