Texas Devil Race (Elaine/Horror Squad)

The streets of Houston were fast, for the south. People new to the city but accustomed to the humdrum casualty of southern heat often find themselves taken aback, withdrawn and amazed at the tall buildings and the busy traffic. Of course-- the speedy highways were nothing like the outrageous speed of some northern cities, but it was still up there. Sidewalks were often empty, with the occasional passerby-- even in a city like this, most people get around by car. Most days, besides the noise of traffic and maybe music, the city was relatively at ease, in it's own overloaded way.

However, today wasn't 'most days.' Today was a day for the twitter reporters and the cell video catchers to do their best. Because, today, there'd been a grave robbery. What people say went on in the Tip Top Grocery store today was both mayhaps the strangest thing the little grocery store had ever seen and also perhaps the most traumatic. Undead-- specifically two, filed in, one going at people without abandon, devouring whatever it might while the second one shopped with two eerie looking teens and a demon. The zombie was able to get a clerk, at the cost of its eye by the time the kids got what they wanted-- a box of Gushers, Fruit Roll-ups, and then 2 boxes of Lucky Charms, but into two different carts. They then, without paying, ran out of the store, the undead that was devouring the store clerks face now following along placidly.

In that moment of eerily calm escape, the pale boy starts to talk. "Hey, uh-- so? Do we wanna start on this street until we get to like. The spaghetti bowl car part of Houston?" He comments, as he puts the ravenous zombie's hands on the cart, before hopping inside one cart himself. The demon, who's leaning against the cart he just hopped in, tilts her head. "Mmmmh. No? No. That'd take too long. Let's just get to downtown. Like, uh-- OH! The park with the-- with the fuckin, uh-- hearing thing!" She rocks on her toes, her tail swishing as she tries to make the point. The other female, who's getting assistance from the more serene seeming masked undead, comments. "Oh, yeah. That should be less awful. Also, less likely for either of us to die? Any reason you guys don't wanna just do this on the sidewalk. We could get run over." The masked zombie nods at this.

"What, chicken that we're gonna beat you?" The demon girl leans forward, past the hoodie wearing male. "Y'know, Sharon, that's kind of sad. It's not even like Alex's zombies are anywhere near as fast as Laurence is, and you just wanna make it easy for you to cheat, yea?" She wiggles her nonexistant brows, which gives the other girl a chance to roll her eyes. "Oh, yes-- because it's so hard to beat you at anything, Allocer. Remember when we stole those DSi's? Even LAURENCE beat you. And Laurence's joints are drying up!" She sneers, the expression made much less formiddable with her legs all squished up in the cart.

Fire lights up in Allocers eyes, as she disappears in a smog and reappears in the cart, smushed together with Alex. "ALEX GO!" The teen boy's eyes widen, and he nods dumbly, as the zombie begins to push the cart out and down into the street, as fast as the lumbering undead can manage. Which, admittedly, isn't very fast. "Hey, Allie, we're giving you a minute grace because you need it!!!" Sharon cackles from inside her cart, as Laurence tilts his head down towards Sharon, who mutters some dismissive, defensive comment about how he shouldn't be so sensitive.

And just like that, the teens were off, playing blind chicken with cars and racing one another. It was dangerous, it was stupid, and it was grabbing a lot of attention the more traffic they found themselves running towards. Neck to neck. Dumb child to dumb child. Angry adults in stuck in traffic, too scared to approach a demon child and it's band of unholy servants. Allocer certainly seems to be reveling in that part. In fact, they all are. They are, however, thankful for the momentum that the manmade hills for roads that Houston is littered with. Makes this less awkwardly slow-- it doesn't matter if Pete's probably about to lose his toes from being dragged about by Allocer and Alex's leaning into speed-- he didn't really need toes anyways.

Vacation was weird for Elaine. Vacationing as a cop typically involved ignoring petty crime and leaving your gun at home … which, make no mistake, was totally something Elaine was doing. It also meant she could drink at noon with little to no judgement and be as coarse and rude as she wants which was always a bonus. Hell, she’s probably slept her way through half of Houston by now … and she’s only been here a week. A smirk flickered across her lips at the thought. Her brain was ridiculous at times … though, she amended as she stared at the half-empty bottle of whiskey in her hand, the alcohol probably didn’t help. How weird, it was just full … ah, well, what are you gonna do? Elaine was going to continue swinging in her hammock and finish off this bottle of whiskey. As for what she’d do afterwards, well, that was a problem for future Elaine.

The day wore on, the sun flying across the sky at what seemed to Elaine to be impossible speeds; she only closed her eyes for a minute, she swears, and that was mid-morning! How the hell was it late afternoon, why did her head hurt so much, and why was her whiskey gone … okay, come to think of it, those last two were probably related. With a groan she sat up, kicking her legs over the edge of the hammock and sat up. The world was swimming, but she grabbed onto the tree branch-

”Ow, fuck!”

So that wasn’t the tree trunk, ow, piss, fuck. She angrily blew a leaf out of her face and angrily picked herself up off the ground, brushing the many leaves off her. Laughter billowed forth from the doorway, and she whirled around, only to immediately wish she hadn’t as she crashed to the floor again, her feet losing what traction they had as she landed directly on her bum. The laughter grew louder then, and through bleary eyes Elaine looked at the figure. The light was blinding, fuck, but soon a figure swam into view and she gasped as she saw her papa holding his gut, absolutely rolling with laughter. She threw a stick at him, though the projectile went wide. This only made him laugh harder and Elaine stood up (thankfully, her consecutive falls seemed to right the world again) significantly grumpier than when she had gotten up.

”Dammit, Papa!”

She slapped his shoulder, but his laughter was contagious and soon Elaine started laughing too; she just couldn’t say mad at her Papa, no matter how bad it hurt her head to laugh oh god why did she drink so much. Her laughter was cut short quickly by a groan of pain and she clutched her head, shaking her blond hair out from it’s ponytail. It helped a little bit, but her head still pounded with every breath. Oh, god, and she was- she suddenly lurched, vomiting off the porch and almost falling off again. The only thing keeping her steady were the large hands off her papa. Through the ringing in her ears, she realized her papa was talking.

-shouldn’ be drinkin’ so much, Elaine! I swear, yer sicker ‘n’ a dog in a kennel, I tell you what!”

His voice send a spike of pain through her and she lurched away, shaking her head again, but even that made her head ring. She groaned again, then stood up shakily from the ground, wiping the remnants of vomit off her mouth.

”I’m fine, Papa. I just need to stop letting myself get sober! Easier ‘n’ a dog in hot, that one.”

She laughed, but it wasn’t quite genuine. She tried her hardest to ignore the judgemental look on her Papa’s face and instead patted him cutely on the cheek, like she did when she was a girl. It was so different then; he had no wrinkles, for one, and her hand was much smaller. Just feeling the wrinkles sent a dart of worry through her. He didn’t have much time left, and then she’d be all alone! The thought of life, especially a long-lived life like hers, spent all alone, without her parents, it scared her to no end! Almost without thinking, she walked inside and made a beeline for the liquor cabinet. Ah, a Rogue Oregan Single Malt! Perfect ...

She clutched it to her chest like a mother holding a child. She couldn’t drink here, the way her Papa was staring at her was making her feel … things. And she didn’t want to feel things! She drunk to numb away feelings. No, she definitely had to leave. A park, about a mile uphill, came to mind. That would do nicely. Ignoring the voice in her head that insisted she could just get a hotel (because that would cost money, dammit!) she opened the door. Admittedly, she wasn’t really dressed to go out, wearing only a thin camisole and tights but, well … at least she was wearing a bra. And the sweet, seductive call of whiskey couldn’t wait for her to get something more appropiate on.

”Papa, Otta-san! I’m headin’ out! See ya later!”

Without waiting for their answer, she ran out the door, her bare feet padding on the hot Texas ground. A weird sight, for sure, the curvy figure of Elaine walking barefoot in what basically amounted to pajama’s for her. She rocked the look, though, even if the casual was ruined by her swigging from the bottle of whiskey she held loosely in her hand. It didn’t help with her pain, but her hope was that eventually, she’d be drunk enough that she wouldn’t care. It wasn’t working yet, but the hope was there! She took a long, deep swig of her bottle. Oh good, the ground was swaying that was good thing! Soon the pain would fade, and-

And then… things went whizzing by, like shopping carts but that was impossible, because the nearest shopping center was miles away. And- were those people in there?! Oh, hell no! Not on her watch! She took another long, steadying swig of whiskey and then suddenly she was off, dirt and gravel spraying behind her powerful limbs as she ran, the half-empty bottle staying almost stationary. This did cut into her top speed a bit … but, well, they were shopping carts, not sport cars, and besides, it was better than spilling her drink! Soon she had pulled up along side it and with a gentle push, well …

Oh, shit, oops! Okay, so it appears the alcohol *was* working, because she might have shoved too hard; and she might have accidently, maybe, sent one shopping cart flying into the other. She slid to a stop, digging a deep groove into the ground from the force and immediately reversed her steps, coming to a quick stop in front of them … which was admittedly a bad idea, as the sudden motion caused her to hurl all over the side of the road. Ugh … gross. Casually, she erected a giant barrier of green Will energy over the “crash” site, protecting it from any passing cars or pedestrians. From a distance, it was pretty opaque. She stood there then, in front of them, arms on her hips and hip thrust out, looking for all the world like a disapproving mother … if it wasn’t for the drink in her hand and slurred speech.

”What in tarnation are ya’ll doin’ here?! Ya’ll are nuttier ‘n’ squirrel poo! Honestly, sweeties, if ya’ll wanted to go surfin’ down the road, ya’ll should build go karts! … did all ya’ll steal these carts?”

She was being nice on them for now … but that wouldn’t last long. She took a swig of her whiskey as she waited for them to talk, but the pain was still there, throbbing with the beat of her heart, and it was shortening her patience. She needed an answer, and she needed it quick, or- well, it wouldn’t be very good.

Alex lets out a little shriek as his cart-- and his zombie, get pushed straight into Sharon and Laurence, not really ceasing Laurence's push but rather sending those who could not teleport and cease gravities pull flying over the cart and hitting the hot asphalt face first. The teen lets out a sound of pain, pulling his chest up until he's sitting, eyes wide as he looks about, their friendly race ceased by-- a drunk lady? He swallows thickly, staying a bit aways from the group at this realization, looking down and away as he hears the retching. He never really liked that noise, or that visage. It was one thing with normal heroes tried to stop them, but he was never a fan of the drunk crusaders who wanted to do something about them. It made him feel on edge. He didn't have enough undead to protect him, here-- was he going to die? The teen moves to sit up cross legged, hands squeezing his ankles as he tries not to make too much noise over skidding face first on the road's asphalt.

However, the rest of his party members were glad to do it for him, with Sharon and Laurence moving to face and address their assailant. Allocer quickly made her way over to the wounded member, helping him up with a sharp look towards the hero who's decided to come at them this time around. She's grown, and an alcoholic, some level of strength and super-speed, obviously-- and, now, officially on Allocers bad side. The demon looking kid makes a stink face as the woman lurches, a scoff underneath her breath as her way to leave this pitiful situation with Alex is closed off by whatever field this woman made.
Laurence was as quick to evaluate as his demon-esque companion, instead standing tall to face her. He makes no movements, and the smell of death hangs off of him-- it hangs off of most of these kids, honestly. But this wasn't the ethereal sense or smell of death like what was on the boy who went flying-- but rather. This is a real scent of death. It's an actual dead body, standing-- not breathing, but very obviously present as he crosses his arms when she begins to speak up.
The best smelling-- and honestly, most normal looking of this quartet is even less impressed, her upper lip curling as she watches the woman move about like the sad, demented husk she probably is. As she tries to give some sort of reply, to chastise them, Sharon gives a scoffing giggle.

Alex, however, on edge, looks around and replies uneasily. "Uh-- well, we just--" He isn't given a chance to finish his nervous banter as Sharon challenges the woman, her own hand moving to her hip. "Does playing hero make you feel less disgusting, or something, ma'am?" She smiles, the gesture entirely false. "It's kind of funny how sad people like you try to convince themselves that they matter by stopping some very obviously, super morally corrupt teenagers." She comments, tilting her head to the side as a callous and cold glint finds itself in her eyes. "I think the best way to make yourself useful might be alcohol poisoning, ma'am, if I'm allowed to give my opinion." She doesn't say the last two words that float in her head, but the implication is still there: Fuck off.

It really was adults like this that made her feel absolutely disgusted. The ones that play the 'good guy,' when, really, none of them have the right. They're all disgusting. Most people are. Who has any right to police or judge when they're honestly, most likely, no better than any of her or her friends? Nothing much, really. At least she and her pals didn't pretend to be something they're not. They didn't lie and say they had any moral high ground. It reminds her of the people she was surrounded by when she was starved. Except, obviously, this woman practices over indulgence. Laurence sets a hand on Sharons shoulder as she starts throwing out her aggression, putting himself a half-step forward in compared to her. He really was the only one, he imagined, who could handle a full grown hit from this woman, considering what that push did to Alex. And he doubts she has the self awareness at this point-- or even, maybe, the simple human decency to keep watch on herself in this situation.

The entire group of teens felt much like a group of strays trying to scare away the stranger, whilst also sniffing them out. They don't think they like what they've gotten so far in the slightest, though.

”S’matter of fact, young lady, it does at that. Make you feel better that I admit that?”

She stared her down; some part of her unaffected by her liquor noticing her age; they couldn’t even be old enough to vote yet! Why was she was here? Where were their parents? For a second, Elaine contemplated arresting them; though if judging by the fact that none of them appeared to be really - with the exception of one guy in the back, being helped by holy shit was that a demon?! - she assumed they were meta’s. She had to stifle a sigh and the roll of her eyes that came with realization. She was all for equality and everything, but she really wished there was a reliable way to determine what powers she had. The only way she could ensure she wasn’t going to get hurt right now was to focus as much as she can; it didn’t do much to quell her quesiness, but with her concentrating, she managed to right the world. She’d need all of her faculties to deal with … terror team.

She didn’t take offense at the words thrown at her; she didn’t like them, but she didn’t take offense. If she had, this entire conversation would be going differently, but she understand. Here comes some random adult, drunk, looking like she got hit hard with the ugly stick, interrupting their fun and injuring their friend. If she was their age, and if this had happened to her, she’d be pissed as well! However, and this is where it got tricky ... they were still breaking the law. She had to toe a delicate line from here; if she came on too strong, they might wreck the entire place and maybe hurt innocents. She had an inkling that these kids didn’t care for collateral damage, nor were they going to be easy to intimidate; with the exception for the pale kid, every one of the teenagers were filled with Will. It was actually hard to see their faces from the green mist rising off them. She had to deal though; first things first, nip the attitude in the bud.

”Trust me, the way I drink, I’ll be dropping dead any day now.” Her speech was still slurred, but only barely. She was concentrating on every word and action now. She was trying to remain as casual as possible, with her smile and her blond hair spread across her shoulder. The bright green highlights in her  hair stood out sharply against the dark blue of her camisole. ”But until that happens, I think we need to have a talk.” She took a second to make sure the barrier remained ready, the Will energy glowing slightly. Keeping it steady was a little straining on the woman, but she had to make sure that they didn’t escape. They were either going to cause more trouble or get caught by somebody not nearly as accommodating as she was if they did, and honestly, she felt bad for them. She was crazy in her youth as well, but she grew up; if someone like her had been there to set her straight, years of her life that she wasted might have been saved.

She threw a quick, furtive glance at the pale youth; she didn’t like him. It wasn’t personal, but just seeing him sent a thrill of unease through her. He wasn’t right; she was reading no Will from him, but he was standing and living … it wasn’t right. It was tempted to get proper clothes on, but a demonstration of her powers might throw the delicate balance out the windows. Instead, she swallowed her trepidation (though Elaine definitely kept the dead-smelling boy in her sight) and stepped forward, her fingers parted in a peace sign and a bright smile on her face. She hoped it painted a nonthreatening visage … though she didn’t know how successful it was, considering the threat she felt to herself; after years of training, it was hard to suppress the urge to act. There was a demon and a boy who smelled of death who apparently didn’t need Willpower to live! It was insane! And impossible, and one of the reasons why the Will dome was still surrounding them. As all this was running through her head, she offered to shake hands with the girl who had so boldly and rudely spoke out against..

”Look, honey, we got off on the wrong foot. Can we bury the hatchet? I’d love ta have ya’ll over for dinner and a movie! Wudya say we return the carts, apologize, and then we can get going huh?” As she spoke, she nudged the cart nearest her with a foot and it disappeared in a flash of green energy. She smirked brightly at them. ”See? Don’t even need ta carry ‘em back.”

Sharon seems to straighten up a bit when the reaction isn't violence, but rather a calm agreement. Trying to throw her off. Sharons brows furrow as she examines the woman, who's presumably-- old enough to drink, but with a bad case of major baby face. Sharon's facial expression certainly wasn't pretty, as she was pushed a bit back by Laurence-- the eerie masked individual who hasn't said a single thing this entire time. He seems to square off, at least physically, but makes no move to pull up his fists or-- more notably, the machete clumsily put into the belt holder of his jumpsuit-- it looks like one a prisoner might have, but the particular design isn't recognizable to any southern meta prisons, so it can't be that. It looks much too real and too durable to be a costume, however. He wreaks like a dead body might, as the dark eyes of his eerie mask stare her down.

The two in the back, however, finally make their way up: the devil girl and the pale boy with the hoodie, after they idly checked on the undead who had been pushing their cart, softly pulling him along with their little quartet beginning to officially form. The pale boy, Alex, idly looked about-- taking note of the little feild surrounding them and the glow that comes from it. It's really nice lighting. If the situation wasn't so grim he'd ask Sharon if she wants to take photos. But the situations pretty bad. Meta's are the worst to deal with, for them, if only because, well-- they actually have to deal with them. Allocer, her scaled hand still on Alex's shoulder, replies before Sharon can get a word in. "Yeah?" The teen demon sneers, her ugly, carnivorous looking teeth creating a rather uncomfortable vision with those unnatural eyes of hers. "I think that you're not really in a position to tell us what to do, mortal." Her tail swishes to and fro, as the other girl, the blonde one, rolls her eyes but quickly adds on. "You're very obviously outnumbered." They're happily neglecting the fact that she has this little force feild around them, but there's also the likely fact that most of them haven't completely registered that, beyond the boys.

As soon as the grocery carts disappeared, the boy in the hoodie, Alex, seems to pout. "Awh, hey man-- we had gushers in there... And like-- did we get fruit rollups, too?" He mutters to himself, inappropriately casual for the tone his friends seemed to set, but the others were quick to match the shift. "Well-- I mean, Laurence, you have the list, right?" Sharon comments, looking to the masked, undead individual who fumbles in his pockets to palm out a little messy shopping list. "Right, sure, but uh-- Allocer wrote it, so..." He murmurs, to which the demon girl seems to fluster. "Hey-- guys-- we were being intimidating." She hisses, to which Sharon simply shrugs and the boy has a very simple reply to:

"Well, I mean, sure-- but like. I mean. I get it makes you happy, and, uh, I'm willing to support it, but also-- like, I mean-- she has our fruit roll ups. Shouldn't we just, like, y'know, kill her? I don't think Laurence has gotten to eat today, yeah?" He says this with an eerie level of casualty, to which the masked undead individual-- Laurence, gives a shrug to. "I mean... That's more you guy's thing-- though, I haven't had my energy dose yet, either..." Sharon replies, the teens now entirely distracted. The demon girl, Allocer, seems to tense up a bit as the conversation turns genuinely deadly, puffing out her cheeks. "Well! What if the shopping carts and all that stuff permanently disappear if you eat her! Have class, god! You don't just talk about eating someone in front of them!" She stamps her foot a bit, as the hooded boy scratches the back of his neck. "Uh, yeah-- sorry. So, then, we're going? That way Laurence can probably get to eat once we get back to the grocery store, providing he's still there." Alex inputs, and the others slowly, at their own pace, nod.

"Consider yourself lucky, mortal." Allocer declares, turning herself back to face the woman. "It isn't often creatures such like yourself face my minions and I and still live." She puffs her chest out, proclaiming this. The others don't seem to pay it much mind. "Oh, oh-- guys-- we could totally get some stuff for Laurence to make his nachos again!" Sharon comments, her once aggressive and sharp eyes changed to a much more enthusiastic look towards her friends. The undead boy gives a nice little thumbs up.

Oh dear god, make it stop. Was it just her or were their voices really annoying? Really, it sounded like nails on a chalkboard set to a Justin Beiber album. Trying to remain as polite as possible, she pushed a finger to her head with a brilliant smile, trying to alleviate the pounding headache only caused in part by the teenager’s bickering. They were cute in a way … like a sick dog! She wouldn’t want any of them humping her leg, but she’ll feed them if it came down to it … and shower them. Ew. The wind must have changed, because suddenly she could smell the boy, and woo did he stink. Like week-old beef gravy left out in the Texas sun. It only got worse as he seemed to face down Elaine. Or at the least he squared off against her. She’s seen that look from lots of cowboys in bars, trying to protect their little Southern Belles, and she gave him the same look that she gave them; complete and utter boredom, as if they meant little to nothing to her. And really, they didn’t, not when she can toss them around like a wiffle ball.

And then, the red-scaled demon girl got into it. Or at least, she assumed she was a demon girl. She caught a glimpse of sharp teeth, red skin and like, evil eyes and jumped back in shock. She definitely wasn’t expecting that. She … really shouldn’t have gotten jumpy, though. Not a great impression, really couldn’t be worse. Elaine sighed and stared down the demon girl, ignoring both the goosebumps forming on her arms and the stench coming from the dead boy, only made worse by the Houston heat. She was trying to scare her … and promptly seemed to forget that fact, as she proceeded to argue with her friends about food, of all things. Honestly, Elaine would have rolled her eyes so hard it would disturb the rotation of the earth if moving her eyes didn’t make nauseous This was so surreal.

”Okay, let’s make one thing clear.” She held up two fingers, the universal gesture for “shut the fuck up right now.” She’s had enough of this, whatever … this was. God, this was weird. Is this really what her life had become? Stopping a zombie and a demon girl from causing havoc while she was absolutely bombed? ... if only she didn’t have the responsibility. ”Ya’ll may outnumber me, but trust me when I say ya’ll are outgunned. Like a buncha squirrels tryin’ t’ fight a bear.” She grinned at them; she wasn’t lying of course, but she was only saying to, hopefully, prevent them from trying to fight her. Of course it might make them angry, but that’s why she did what she did next. A green light, like sparkling stars, spiraled around her body, completely enveloping everything but her eyes. It only lasted a second, but when it passed her outfit had changed, replacing the camisole and tight shorts with what looked like leather pants a corset under a duster lined with green. Her hair had been tied back into a ponytail, and sunglasses were around her neck. Most notably, at least to their sense of self preservation, was the gun and sword at her hip and the shield on her back.

”Now …” the grin on her face could be only amounted to a cat that got locked overnight in the cream factory. ”The question ya’ll need to be asking yerselves is whether you wanna fight a fucking god?!” Okay, so she wasn’t technically a god, just the daughter of one, but same difference right? … no, it wasn’t, but she couldn’t let them know that! Shit, if Adlay was here, she’d just disintegrate their molecules into nothing. Elaine … couldn’t do that. She could hurt them a lot, but even then she was loath to do that. ”Cuz I don’ wanna fight a buncha kids, alright? I wanna take ya’ll home and feed ya and clothe ya. Ya’ll look like you’ve been roughin’ it, and that ain’ cool. I get where you’re coming from, but really, the only way you’re goin’ anywhere is through me. I don’ think any of ya’ll could get through my barrier and well …” She gestured to the groove in the sidewalk where she had skidded to a stop. ”I already showed ya’ll how fast I can be. Well, I’m stronger’n that, and I can also do lotsa other things. So why don’ we not destroy downtown Houston and ya’ll come with me?”

The teens take pause when Elaine starts to speak, the masked dead one keeping his focus square on her the entire time, while the others snuck glances to one another every now and then. The dark headed boy in the hoodie seemed to, well, have just about the opposite reaction to the threat, as if something just popped into his head-- an idea. For the rest of her demonstration, he seemed to sit on it, practically bursting with an naive, and probably reckless form of excitement.

Finally, when it comes their turn, he speaks before the two girls could even think of getting something in edgewise. "So you're like a boss battle? I mean-- we're probably not equipped but if you give me some time I'd probably be ready. I just need to raise more undead and, uh-- well--" There is a heavy roll of the eyes coming from the non-demon looking girl, as she shakes her head. "You do realize we were going to go with you to return the carts, yes? That's what that entire conversation led to, you know that, right? You're really only hurting your own cause at this point. And, besides-- we've been on our own for years. We're fine. Better off, honestly, most of us." She goes on, the hiss in her voice a little scathing. "Alex, you don't need to nerd out over this. It's fine." The boy in the hoodie blinks, his cheeks seeming to flush a bit in embarrassment. "Wait, so, uh Sharon-- we're-- not? Fighting her? I mean, I figure the whole 'do you want to fight a god' thing would make Allocer, uh, die, if, you know, we don't, so..."

Speaking of the red skinned devil teen, her eyes have widened slightly, almost as if she's been waiting for the conversation topic to switch to her. "Tch. Please. As if a mere god could beat the daughter of Satan himself." She responds, in a very much so ham-fisted acting way. It's almost interesting how these kids seem to continuously resort to lighthearted shenanigans despite all of this. "I bet Laurence could probably take her on his own mostly, too." She snickers a bit, before shaking her head. "But we're going to get more food from the place we got these carts from, yeah? That's why we're going with her?" She turns to the group to confirm, which gets general nods and hums of agreeance. "And then, after that, we'll have the death battle. Well-- after Alex gets some undead up, it has to be a fair fight. You can do whatever you have to to prepare, too, I guess." Allocer shrugs at that, as the group seems to mellow out entirely.

The teens then turn, almost comedically patiently to wait for the adult to start leading them away, or at the very least undo the bubble. There's still tension in the air, however, as if most of them expect her to turn around on her decision in the first place. All except the boy in the hoodie, who decides to ask, although a bit timidly with the scent of alcohol on her. "Uh-- what do other things entail? Like, is it eye lasers, or, uhm, I dunno, like? Flying? Though I'd maybe consider that also, like, superspeed, so... I mean-- you kind of know what most of us can do, so, I mean, it's probably a little fair to give a small hint at the lots of other stuff. But not a big hint, or, anything, because, then-- it also, ah, wouldn't be fair on your part, so, uh. Just a small one so we can, like, both, y'know, think, uhm. Strategy. "