The Secret Is Out


Ava_icon.gif Grant_icon.gif Francis_icon.gif Groosalugg_icon.gif Gunn_icon.gif

Summary: Victoria's Secret is invaded by a group of mismatched allies that end up letting their powers combine in an effort to freedom ring. More or less.

Date It Happened: January 6, 2002

The Secret Is Out

Victoria's Succubus Secret

Victoria's Secret holds many secrets. Or, well, maybe not so much any more. Everyone knows that they sell bras and love to exhibit topless women all over their billboards. Push-up bras for all! This particular branch in Hollywood has it's normal mixture of women shopping and men trying to find something for that special someone (maybe for themselves, even, this is LA). Full-scale plastic models stand in breast pushed-out splendor, decked out in the newest lingerie or the hottest bra and panty selections. A few of them are the normal almost faceless plastic representation of the human form and others look almost like mannequins, complete with make-up and hair. The helpful store clerks make sure to ask everyone if they're finding what they needed. It certainly doesn't look like a place holding sinister and seedy secrets.

Francis's face is currently about as pleasant and expressive as that of one carved into Mount Rushmore. Which is to say that he's doing his level best to hide his embarassment by using sheer impassivity. "No, Mom, I have no idea what size Marie wears. Not in any of this stuff. She gets bubble bath or she gets a gift certificate," he argues into his cellphone, as he rather uneasily sidles in. "Jesus, Mom, what kind of pervert knows his sister's bra size?" A moment's silence. "Mom. You weren't supposed to know about those magazines. I was ….they were Joe's. I swear. My hand to God…."

Ava can't really afford anything from Vicky's, but she does like to look. In her little not-quite-evil-but-still-kinda-selfish heart of hearts, Ava's a girly girl, and she can't help but contemplate stuff on the racks that would rock Nicolae's world. The thought of shoplifting does occur to her.

Alternatively, Grant knows what size the woman he's shopping for wears, and he can amply afford what Victoria's Secret has to offer. He's not seen any of her underthings, but he's a very observant fellow and has seen more than enough women of similar size and build (and seen their underthings). It doesn't take a genius to approximate based on estimations. Or maybe it does and Grant is just a genius. At any rate, he doesn't appear to be at all embarrassed or ill at ease as he browses, politely smiling and waving off any saleswomen who happen by. He knows what he wants and where it is; he just has to make a few decisions.

There are bad things afoot at the Push Up Bra Capital of the World. And there's a reason that Charles Gunn is about to cause a ruckus. Being black is going to be a good enough of a reason, hopefully, since he's got his axe in his hand. Pulling open the door, he swings his axe up to rest on his shoulder.

"Holy hot damn! Paradise! My eyes are definitely seeing the glory!" In fact, in the middle of saying this, Gunn actually lets his eyes travel along the bodies of one of the hotter clerks. "Bang! Boom! Pow! Girl got it goin' on!" Oh lord. This is the part where he makes a spectacle of himself so that all eyes can be on him like Tupac. "Somebody tell a brotha where he can find the Magical Draws!"

One of the clerks is busily following Francis around like a puppy, ready to pounce upon him when he finds out what the bra size of his sister is. "We have some excellent models," she chirps over his shoulder helpfully, not seeming to care if he's having a private conversation with anyone. Another woman is equally keeping an eye on Ava, though she's not being so obvious as to trail the woman about the store. Instead, she waits until she pauses and then pounces upon her. "We do have fitting rooms, as well, if you'd like to try anything on." The manager is another beast entirely observing from the back of the room, she eyes Grant, professionally hungry for the big sale that she instinctively knows that this man can give her.

When Gunn interrupts entirely, however, all the salespeople stop. One deftly inserts herself in front of Gunn and the rest of the store, nervously chittering, "Sir, we don't allow, uh, weaponry inside of the store. And we'd also like you to lower your voice. If you don't, um, leave your…axe…outside we're going to have to ask you to leave."

Francis clicks his phone shut with the finality of a guillotine, and turns a baleful stare on the clerk trailing him. "I need something….conservative. In flannel. A tent. Or muumuu. Can you help me out?" he asks, before Gunn comes in. "Listen, you better be an SCA member gone astray or I will personally arrest you," he says, wearily. "If that's even remotely real, it is so illegal it makes my teeth hurt," he notes to the other man.

Ava looks up from the racks. Her eyes widen when she sees Gunn, but takes note of his Martin Luther King's Eyes Have Seen The Glory act, and so she acts accordingly. To whit, she stuffs the awesome corsette and panty set she'd been eyeing into her bag. After all, nobody's looking at her.

There's that prickly sensation at the back of Grant's neck: the sort of feeling one gets when he's being watched. It could just be a trick, but when the feeling is unrelenting, he turns his head and peers down the way at the manager. There's something about her — aside from the obvious fact that she's attractive. Something very different, and yet very familiar. He doesn't get to ponder on it for long, however, because Gunn makes his entrance just then and Grant's attention is snapped back that way, sweeping over Ava's shoplifting in the process. He sees what she did there, but he's not saying anything. Gunn is the more obviously pressing issue. Who let the rabble in?

"Axe? What axe? I ain't got no axe!" Gunn ends up raising his axe around and getting with the swiping. Nothing too calculated, but enough to make him look like he's insane… while trying to make sure he keeps what could possibly be FredBots at a distance. Axe-Swinging distance, at least. Francis ends up with with a glare from the strutting Gunn. "Hey! Hey! What you mean by that? I come up in here, tryin' to buy some soul stealing panties for my sister girl and you tryin' to bust my groove! I smell a Race Card comin' on! What's yo' badge number? HUH?! Give it up!"

In all the flailing of his hands, he's hoping Ava can see him waving a finger towards the check out. Should be an Employee's Only door around here somewhere, right? They wouldn't keep the scary demon panties up front, would they?

"Lady, put those back or I'll arrest you, too," Francis says, crisply, cutting his gaze at Ava for just a moment. He went to parochial school, and absorbed the 'eyes in the back of his head' power from the nuns who taught him, apparently. "I mean, sir," Frank says, in the sort of tone that should be able to etch glass, "You're walking around with a weapon that's utterly illegal. Hand it over, and I'll consider not bringing you in," he says, flatly, twitching aside his suit jacket enough to expose the gold badge at his waist. Man, this is just shaping up to be a complete festival of lace thongs, high blood pressure, and utter irritation, isn't it?

"Um. Girl with corsette, guy with axe." Ava's tone is scornful. She shrugs, and backs away, toward the counter and the back area, which leads to their storage and possible demonic panties.

"We have lingerie in all shapes in sizes, sir. However, your sister may like something a little more…flattering than flannel. Though we do have some lovely flannel thongs she may enjoy." Flannel thongs? For the lumberjack woman? Who knows. Either way, she simpers and whimpers at the scary black man with the wielding axe. Reaching out, she tries to put an arm on Francis for protection, oh save her from scariness!

Ava would be quite wrong in thinking that no one is watching her. The saleswoman who was asking her questions makes an aheming sound in the back of her throat and reaches out to put a firm hand on her shoulder when she tries to make a break for it. "I would put those back if you wouldn't like to face a couple years in prison and a felony on your record," she tells the woman sternly. She gives a little more away than she may want, however, as Ava may just sense a flash of something. Something similar to what Grant has already started to ponder.

The black man waving an axe is eyed with increasing hostility from the woman who was sent to take care of him. The stammering is gone and she narrows her eyes at him. "We don't sell anything like that here," she hisses, almost sounding like a cat as she does so. "You're going to have to leave now."

Soul-stealing panties. Grant's eyes narrow at that, but he happens to spot the pointing as well amidst the flailing, and his eyes snap to Ava again — just in time to see her trying to slip away with her stolen goods and get caught in the process. He raises an eyebrow. So, then. Cahoots. Hmmm. He strides forward to grab hold of the saleswoman's wrist — the one trying to hold Ava back. "It's quite all right, she wasn't trying to shoplift," he states with a warm smile. Already he's reaching for his wallet. "She was just picking out a few things for me." Whatever's going on here, he doesn't like the look of the manager. Perhaps it's a territory thing.

"No! I came all the way from Africa to get e some demonic draws and I ain't leavin' without 'em! Ain't no sunshine when she's gone! Ain't no mountain high enough! Ain't gonna' hurt nobody!" Yet, he's swinging around the axe even more wilder now. In fact, he's taking a step towards one of those plastic mannequin things and swinging to lop its head off! "SOMEBODY GET ME SOME PANTIES! NOW! DAMMIT!" Yeah. Somebody get this black man something or else he's going to go crazy.

Ava blinks at Grant. Is he really going to - wait, what was that? She stares at the woman, and with a sudden flare of her eyes, reaches out and grips that hand, holding it tight in her own. Perhaps unbelievingly, she begins to speak in a murmured hush under her breath in some foreign language, free hand reaching into her messenger bag, groping for something.

Speaking of weapons that are completely illegal…well, it's probably not legal to wander around with a finally crafted broadsword, either. But hey…Groo has actually been cleaned up, recently. Cordelia bought him new clothes. Cordelia got him a haircut. And Groo is the one who enters next. He looks vaguely like a normal human being. It's only the muscles, and the fact his sword is rather distinctive, that might allow people to pick him out for the same Conan The Barbarian tha came through a portal. When Groo enters afterwards…he has to wonder…"Are you alright?" Perhaps not. Perhaps the foul enchantments in this place have done something unfortunate to him! "There is evil to be found in this place. If only I could find the source of enchantment."

That source of enchantment may not be long in the coming to the forefront. The manager of the store finally takes a forefront of the negotiations instead of standing at the back of the store watching. "That's quite enough, Milly. Don't worry about the silly young man. He is a strong one, though, isn't he?" she purrs. "You were looking for a special kind of underwear, did I hear you right? Something out of the ordinary?" She smiles and slowly swings her hips as she approaches the two men. "My, now aren't we just the heroes of the day?"

The woman holding, and then being held by Ava frowns and attempts to get her arm out of the reach of the other woman. "Let go of me, miss, or I'm going to ask that nice man over there who seems to be able to arrest people do just that for me." Smiling, she also gives Grant a bit of a wink. "A big strong man like you may be able to help me, too, yes?"

It's like a sudden switch has turned on all the saleswomen and men. They're indiscriminate in who they start to come on to, but the common thread is that they all are starting to make advances on whoever they are near. The petite saleswoman by Francis turns her scared attempted grab into something much different. In fact, one hand starts to slooooowly go lower. "You have handcuffs as part of that job, don't you?" she murmurs just for him.

"Buddy, put that axe -down-," Francis orders. Great. He was just here for flannel slippers, not impromptu police brutality. Shooting in a Victoria's Secret - that'll look wonderful on the front of the Times. And t hen he's being groped, and Francis is momentarily distracted. "Lady, what the hell are you doing?" he demands, curtly.

Ava's hand in her bag finally emerges, in her fist is a big fucking hat pin. The type with a round pearly bauble at the end that old ladies wear in eccentric hats. As she does, she's calling out, "Dispergere, dispergere, dispergere!" On the third pronouncement, her fist comes down and she stabs the woman right in the center of her palm with it. Ouch!

But Grant is quite immune to whatever charms may be oozing from the saleswoman — and the manager too, actually. His eyes narrow at her, and he takes a step back as Ava starts issuing some type of incantation (sounds like something from the dispel category). He bristles inwardly at all the heat he's sensing suddenly — that he isn't immune to, and it makes him feel a little heady. The cambion has to close his eyes and take a deep breath through his mouth to stop himself from inhaling the pheromones. When he opens them again, he shoots a look at Ava. "Are you planning to do that with all of them?" he remarks wryly.

Gunn just seems to finally get what he wants and that's when he's smiling. Dropping the stereotypical black man thing, he puts the Race Card away and moves with purpose towards the woman that has decided she's going to help him. His axe is gripped tightly with one and and his eyes are locked on her as he approaches. Literally, ignoring any saleswomen (or men, ew) that may be trying to come on to him at this particular juncture. Oh and Francis. Cops don't even register on Gunn's radar, it seems. "Not just heroes." Gunn quips to the woman that's swinging hips towards himself and Groo. "Big Damn Heroes." Now to give the woman and chance to toss witty banter back.

And then women attempt to grope Groo. But Groo thinks of his princess, and isn't about to put up with that. "Fiendish wenches! I shall teach you not to use the wiles of a com-shuk demon on a true warrior!" It isn't very nice, really, what he does to the people coming after him. Because he pushes them away with all the elegance of, well, Conan the Barbarian. And he pushes them hard. With all of his much greater then human strength behind it. They didn't exactly practice chivalry on Pylea, it turns out. So, he draws his sword. And tells the person in charge…"We are here to end your reign of turning people into com shuk demons! Even if it means your head…" That sword does look very, very sharp, after all…

"Relax, sweetheart," Pixie saleslady tells Francis with a big smile. "You're here to buy some lingerie, you need to loosen up. Have some fun. If you want to arrest me, that's fine, too. I've got a lovely little game we can play that features handcuffs prominently." It doesn't seem like she has any sort of qualms with contining. Nor does she have an scruples.

As for the woman Ava just chanted at and stabbed with a big ole hat pin, she gives a scream of pain and yanks her hand back as quickly as possible. "OW! What the hell, lad-" she pauses and looks around her. "Where-why am I here?" Snapping out of something, she looks around her, blinking, unsure of what's going on, it would look like.

Chaos may be imminent, but the manger just laughs and snaps her fingers at the scream. The previously snapped out woman blinks again and then just smiles at Grant again, not seeming to realize that he's immune to her advances. "Why hello there."

"My my. If I've got to go, I certainly wouldn't mind being taken out by such a handsome man, would I?" Staying out of sword reach, though, she just smiles at the two. At least Gunn knows the rules of fighting evil. "But why would you do that? These people are quite happy to give themselves to a greater cause. And they taste so yummy once they're ready."

"This won't last." Ava's voice is curt, and though she heard Grant, she chooses to ignore him. "They're all cursed." With that, she makes a bee-line for the back. She's gonna find that demonic underwear, oh you betcha.

Frank's motions are slow, in that nightmarish way…..he's reaching for his gun, horrified by both Gunn and Groo, and distracted by the woman tryingto paw at him. "Lady, get away from me," he orders, before rounding on both Gunn and Groo. "Listen, Conan, drop that fucking sword. Ditto for you with the axe."

Yes, he'd figured as much. It doesn't take him much to see what's going on here. Grant watches as Ava heads off, then turns his attention on the woman trying to seduce him — and failing most miserably. She's not unattractive, but she's definitely not his type, and that's quite enough of that. Frowning in a rather unamused way, he fixes his gaze on her and begins to work his own little magic. She's getting hit with a full-on blast of the sort of charm only Grant (and the manager) can offer; the cambion's eyes shine inhumanly bright as a result. "You don't want me," he purrs in a low voice. "Why don't you go help your boss? Give her a peck on the cheek for me."

"Groo. This is the witty banter portion of the…" Pause. What with all the craziness that's going on, there's something to be said for the craziness that happens in the peripheral vision of Gunn's eyes. Stuff that's involving Latin, pins, blood and Clueless for Dummies facial expressions. But via the smirk on his face, if only because there's a slight moment of Impressedom, Gunn is back to focusing on the task at hand. This crazy woman. "/These/ people? Maybe. But you made the mistake of coming after /my/ people." And here is where the Gunn draws his axe up to hold with both hands, his feet shifting so he can be steady. "Which means the buffet's closed." He leans his head towards Groo with his voice low, "I've always wanted to say that." Oh Jeezus.

Groosalugg tells Frank, bluntly, "You were there when I slew the demon in the Library. Why should you be shocked I now intend to slay an evil sorceress?" He wastes no more time on Frank, who by now should've gotten the idea that Groo is not from this world, and isn't going to listen to this world's rules. His sword is raised to a combat stance, and he's now ready to charge into battle. The only thing that's holding him back is the fact Gunn hasn't actually attacked yet.

"It never lasts," The manager tells Ava, though she doesn't take her eyes off Groo or Gunn. "It's never meant to. I just need enough for a nice little larder." A buffet of energy to feed on at will. It won't take Ava very long to find the cursed underwear. Everything in this store has it's nice little curse to turn the wearer into a minion of the manager. Snapping her fingers again, a strange echo effect ringing out throughout the store, and she attempts to stop Ava in her tracks with a bit of magic. Feeling the same kind of energy emanating from Grant, she laughs and grins at him. "Oh, very nice."

The woman who was stabbed, re-cursed and now turned against her original master is very confused. She gives Grant a bit of a pout before jerkily turning toward he manager to prance up to kiss her on the cheek. The manager growls and attempts to bodily shove the other woman away from her. "Stop it, you're embarrassing me."

As for Francis, the other woman isn't making anything easier. At that second snap from the manager, she turns from trying to seduce him to trying to floor him. Aiming a kick to his more sensitive regions, she smiles. "Funny how that area give so much pleasure and pain, isn't it?"

Ava stops in her tracks, sounding a little grunt of effort as she's stopped in place. The little gypsy which is still not without resources though. Her eyes dart to and fro, and settle on a rack of discount bras. With a snarl, "You are really starting to piss me off, lady!" And then suddenly said rack of discount bras flings itself at the manager. It's enough for concentration to be broken, and Ava makes it toward the back room doorway.

Francis manages to turn just enough that he takes the blow in the muscles of the thigh, rather than where it was intended. He reverses the gun in his hand, and tries to strike her with the butt. Nothing like a pistolwhipping to just up and ruin your day. "Jesus fucking christ," he snarls. "Someone dial 911,"

"I do my best," is Grant's flat response to the manager. "You truly lack class if you have to stoop to magicking your victims to seduce them." Then, to his new little minion: "Very good, now kiss her good and hard." Dear lord, it's like directing a porno. But it will serve as a good distraction, at least. Grant will definitely not be getting Gwen anything from this store. Perhaps a less classy Frederick's will have to do.

Gunn has actually run out of crazy stuff to say. Witty Banter portion is done and he's hoping that this is going to be pretty easy. And what, with the distraction of kissing saleswomen and flinging bras! There's a lot to deal with, probably! But he's only worried about the hoisting and swinging of his axe towards this lady, with some calculated aim towards her general neck area. Like, rar, man. Rar.

Groosalugg isn't in the mood for further delay. Instead, he simply charges what appears to be the head of the com-shuk demons. Sword in hands, he takes a massive, cleaving swing. Fitting the swing should be cleaving in a land all about evil cleavage. Regardless, the sword forms a bright arc in the air as the sharp edge comes whistling down at the manager, bearing down with all the considerable strength of Pylea's best Champion. Those romance novel arms of his aren't just for show. "Begone, foul sorceress!"

There's a lot of things happening quickly here that the manager was half expecting, half not. It seems like everyone is after her at once! This isn't fair. There's a rack of bras tossed at her, that makes her lose her concentration enough to let that damn gypsy wench loose. She pays her little attention, though, as she assumes that she's running away. Unfortunately for Ava, there's nothing obvious in the back room. It would seem that everything is up front, hiding in plain sight. Her previous little slave girl is now trying to grope at her to give her a firm kiss, but luckily, the rack manages to dislodge the two from each other and she uses it as a sort of shield between her and those trying to attack her with lips and steel.

Not even bothering with the wheels, the hostess picks up and swings the metal contraption hard at Gunn and Groo as they attack her, managing to block most of Gunn's attack, but less of Groo's. Blood starts to seep from a deep cut on her arm and she roars in pain. Swinging the rack again, harder, she attempts to knock out Groo with it - since he is the bigger one and seems the most likely to be a threat before, with the deftness of a non-human, leaping over the steel to attempt land on Francis. He's further away and will do nicely as a hostage.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Ava curses emphatically when the back room reveals…nothing. Digging into her bag, she rummages from the component she needs. Where is it, come on…keys, corset, tarot cards, condom - how'd that get in there? - makeup, movie stub - AHA! Sand of Karnak. She unpops the stobber and with a grimace, pours a tap of it into each eye and blinking and cursing some more (the stuff makes her tear), wobbles over to the doorway looking out over the shop. "Her!" she points at the manager. "The magic's all centered around her!"

Aw, man. Sand of Karnak takes hours to wear off, and she's going to have such a headache.

Magic. Francis the mundane cop knows know magic. But man, does he know violence. And the manager's sudden leap on to him saves someone a bullet hole or two - because he was about to draw down on Groo. He's stifled mid-warning however, badge in one hand, gun in the other, "LAPD, now fre- " And then Detective Doakes goes down like a felled redwood. His badge goes skittering over the horrible mall carpeting, but he keeps his grip on his gun.

The rack is no match for a sword, no matter how strong the wielder is. When Groo goes to parry, his sword, predictably, slices the metal in half. It's no match for forged Pylean steel. However, the randomness of battle conspires agaisnt the mighty Champion. As he cleaves his opponent's weapon in half, the cleaved half still had momentum. It goes spinning through the air, as an object in motion tends to stay in motion due to the laws of physics. The spinning bit of steel manages to catch Groo in the temple…he'd thought the weapon was parried, after all…and he slumps to the ground right there. Much like the detective, though, his grip on his weapon remains. Somebody at Wolfram and Hart must love that manager, to engineer luck of that quality.

Once his own minion gets clocked by the clothes rack, Grant releases her from his, erm, employ, so-to-speak. It's hard to focus on her and the manager at the same time. "I could have told you that," he remarks to Ava dryly. Granted, he has a bit of an insider's view on things. He knows the best way to break the curse of a succubus or incubus. Being in no immediate danger himself, the cambion is content to hold back for now.

This is not fair. Gunn is trying to fix his Fredikins and there's a crazy woman that's like hitting him with a bra contraption of metal. Not a good idea. Especially when he's being knocked to the side. His back smacks against the floor, his axe clattering free of his palm and there's some latent recovery time… that consists of Gunn lifting his head up and frowning at the bra on his head. "Why do I get the feeling Cordelia would love this one?" Reaching up, he pulls them off and flings them to the side, just as Ava comes with the good news. "I was so hoping you'd say something like that." Gunn grins, before going into football mode, lifting and rushing to leap-tackle at the Manager of Doom! That's right, not that he's all that huge, but he's got enough body weight behind him that he may be able to save this copper's life. Or at least his sex drive. Unintentional bonus.

Though the cause of everything, that manager is a little stunned to see everything unraveling. The only good thing that's happened to her so far is being able to conk out Hercules over there. Hissing at Ava's clear outting of what she's doing here, she makes no move to get off of Francis. Instead, she moves to forcibly kiss him and start to drain him away as best she can. Even if she gets close enough for that kiss, though, it doesn't last long from the football tackle she receives from Gunn.

Tumbling, she screeches something unholy and tries to grab for Gunn's hair, like in a cat fight, only to find nothing there to grab. Curses! Undone again. With her stolen strength and agility, she rolls and then springs, still holding onto Gunn, and attempts to pin him against the wall.

The store clerks, while idle for some of this have finally sprung into action again. There are two more who aren't under Grant's influence and one goes running at Ava in an attempt to jump and pin her down to prevent any more trouble. The other hisses at Grant and circles, knowing this one has some sort of magic power to take her over.

Ava doesn't hesitate, she simply holds out her outstretched palm. "Thicken." she whispers, and the clerk flying in the midst of flying toward her suddenly splats, like she's splayed out on a windshield and slowly slides down, falling to the floor in a heap. Ava's been slinging a lot of magic, and it's starting to show; darkness is seeping into her eyes.

This is …..weird. Impossibly fucked up, in fact. But he'll worry about that, later. The cop is up on his feet with grace and speed surprising in someone of his build, and Francis is back to trying to use his pistol as a blunt instrument, reversing the grip and starting after the manager like he's a Grammaton in training. Christian Bale, eat your heart out. Just one tap, and maybe he can knock her out as neatly as poor Groo.

Certainly not magic, but a gift. Grant eyes his newest opponent with a patently unamused expression. This again? Really? As before, his eyes grow impossibly brighter as he stares down the clerk. "Easy, now. I am not your enemy. Your manager is. You ought to show her what it is you do to your enemies."

There was a problem with this plan. The problem being that Gunn is human and damn sure not going to be able to match the crafty demon magic woman of doom in strength. And the next thing he knows, he's being slammed and pinned to the wall like there's going to be some bad mojo coming. Grunting from the pain, he's hoping that Ava and see him. "Hey Ava! You got any Jean Grey stuff up your sleeve?" And behold! His hand is open! Palm! All it needs is an axe handle!

Ava's eyes are rimmed in black, because magic is fun, and the more you use it in any given scenario, the more feel-good it becomes. "Axe. Right." She gestures almost negligently, and with a swooping gesture, sends the axe spinning toward Gunn. Toward Gunn? It embeds in the wall, about six inches from his hand. "Oops." She presses a finger to her cheek. "My bad!"

However, the more that the manager uses her little slave girls to do her bidding, the weaker she gets. It's not exponentially so, she has a lot of energy shored up in reserves, but she is getting weaker. Now that she has Gunn in her grasp, she smacks him against the wall again with even more strength and smiles oh-so sweetly. "All I want is a kiss." Hearing Francis approach, she doesn't snap so much as just think very hard to attempt the same spell she pulled on Ava earlier in an attempt to stick him right in place, no matter how awkward that position may be.

The second one pauses in her circling, seemingly captivated by Grant's mojo, or whatever it is he's using to try and counteract the manager's hold over her. Looking between the two of them, she takes just a step backward before deciding that maybe she should start moving toward that manager lady.

Francis is stuck, like it's a huge game of Simon Says. He nearly trips over his own feet, as he's suddenly rooted to the ground. He is, however, frantically trying to reach her despite it. Just one kiss? Just one hit.

Things are starting to get out of hand, here. Ava's cattiness is easy to detect, and Grant doesn't have to glance over his shoulder to see what's going on. Magic is addictive. Too much is a bad thing. And she's been using too much. To his new minion, he purrs, "Be a dear and give that axe to the black man." And unless the minion is halted somehow, he'll be on his way out of here — because Grant does not want to be around an out-of-control witch, thanks much.

There's time for quick 'look' at Ava and a "Dammit." but Gunn is stuck to the wall by the power of Female. And she's all up close and personal and… he's black and tall and has reach. Which is why he's stretching his arm out to grab the axe handle… but it's still just a bit too far. With a small grimace, he closes his eyes and slams his head forward to collide with the kissy-face of the head demon chick in charge. Just to stumble her and free himself from her grip. The moment she lets go, his body leans to the side and he grabs onto the axe handle, bringing it right around in clean swipe right through the neck of this crazy chick for some gruesome separation of her head from her (not too shabby looking) body! Yeah, ew.

Ava has a better hold on herself then people might expect. She can feel herself slipping…and once more reaches into her Bag Of Tricks. Off all the things she can pull out, what she holds in her hand is…a length of red ribbon. She curls her fist around it, closes her eyes, and when she opens them again, they're clear, if still slightly hazed by the Sand of Karnak. "Gunn, we have to go." she announces, and then stares for a beat at the decapitated demon. "Eww."

Alas! To end so suddenly. As soon as the woman's head has left her body many things happen. Francis is able to move again - so suddenly against all the attempts he had to beam the woman that he may very well topple over. The store clerks (those still left standing and not underneath metal racks or smashed into walls, meaning the one) stop in their tracks and look around them in curiosity and bewilderment at where they are and what they're doing here.

The manager succubus isn't one of those demons that needs to be killed a couple times to stay dead. Her head just topples to the ground and bleeds along with her crumpled (nice looking) body. All that's left are those standing there confused and those about to make a break for it.

By the time the axe has relieved the succubus of her head, Grant is gone. It's a quick stop at Frederick's and then home to a nice soothing bath and a glass of wine for him.

Well, Francis is not standing there confused. Whatever she may have been, that manager looked human. So Gunn is presented with the muzzle of a .45, up close and personal. And now he can get it out to his satisfaction. "Freeze, you fucker. LAPD," insists Francis.

"Gone." Gunn is saying, definitely as Ava is already talking about trying to go. And there's tossing of keys at her as he makes his way… right into the barrel of a 45. And with the rolling of the eyes comes Gunn. "Dude. I seriously have not been having a good month. One of my best friends becamee more slutty than usual. The girl I maybe like a little bit did the same. My other friend may or may not be suffering from magical backlash and some freaky shit is going on with her eyes. My truck's been running crazy. This psycho chick almost kills me, you and everyone else up in here. And you're going to stand here, with your gun in my face and try to racial profile me…" And here's where Gunn brings up the Axe. "… while I have an axe in my hand?" One Chance Glare.

Aww crap. Sands of Karnak, Sands of Karnak…Ava digs it out and pours some into her hand, padding up behind Francis - and noticing an adorable bra and panty set she'll have to snag on the way out - before she ahems to get his attention. And hopefully, should he turn, she blows the dust of Karnak in his face and murmurs, "Forget." It should hopefully put him in a bit of a wooze, and she and Gunn can get outta there.

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