The Impossible Mansion: Olivier's Domain

It was a smaller vault door, pretty close to the front of the hallway. Calamity had never paid it much mind. After Iuvart's downfall she expected things to be pretty quiet. Nobody would want to fuck with them now, right? And it was quiet. For a couple of weeks at least. Now she was squinting at the monitor, trying to make out what the fuck was going on. At first she thought it was just a distortion on the screen. After all, the image was pretty fuzzy. It appeared as though the bolts on the vault door were being removed, although nobody was there. In fact, it seemed as if an invisible construction crew was beginning to dismantle the door one piece at a time. But they were doing it slowly...trying not to draw too much attention to themselves. She leaned back, eyeing the monitor with concern.
"Hey Maxwell? I think something's going on with that smaller vault in the Southern-"
The vault door fell away with a deafening crash and in its place stood a heavy mahogany door. A very decorative door with intricate carvings and a large "O" painted on the front in hot pink. Calamity stared at the monitor, jaw hanging open in confusion and disbelief.
"Welp." she motioned to the monitor as if to say the image was pretty fucking self explanatory.

-------------------------

"Boss, we've got a problem."
"How big of a problem?"
"Iuvart is dead."
Silence. The archangel shifted uncomfortably outside the door to Olivier's office. There was the faint scratching of a chair being pushed back, followed by soft footsteps. The door opened, revealing a pink-haired man in a 1920's style suit and bowler hat. He was frowning. The archangel swallowed hard, seemingly terrified.
"How?"
"Er...he tried to launch a rebellion like you told him to, and two officers killed him. There wasn't even a body left, sir."
Olivier sighed. He knew he should have sent someone...bigger. But he was glad he wasted a pawn on the job. A look of frustration passed over his face as he realized he couldn't let that fly. He had a reputation to hold up. He had a job to do. And he'd be damned if anyone would think of him as a coward for not retaliating. There was an awkward pause as he schemed. Finally he tipped his hat down, covering his cobalt eyes.
"Always knew he was too weak to handle his title. How'd he lure them in?"
"Caused a bit of ruckus in the hallway."
"Go cause a bit of ruckus in the hallway."
The archangel opened his mouth to protest, presumably about to say something along the lines of "That's a rash decision and a terrible idea." But he froze without saying a word. Olivier had drawn his pistol, jammed it into the angel's mouth, and was presently smiling.
The archangel left promptly to cause ruckus in the hallway.

Maxwell was suddenly behind Calamity. It was painfully obvious that he had just taken a full dose of his "special" concoction. "Fuck yeah, looks like someone's about to cause a ruckus in the hallway." He said, slurring slightly, and patting calamity on the head affectionately. His essence of void creatures sort of killed what little respect he had for personal space. "I guess ill go hash some shit out.....hash....hmm...." Maxwell seemed lost in though for a second. "Maybe later." he said to himself, then fell over a chair, picked himself up and walked out of the office, muttering about how his lawn chair was poof....or something ,like that, and trudging towards whatever he thought was going to cause a ruckus in the hallway.

----------------

Aphos was enjoying life....death...whatever. He was reading a book...he could fucking SEE a book. It was nice. Shooting blurry things in the balls was much less satisfying than shooting things you could see in the balls. He sighed and stretched out on the lawn chair he had stolen from maxwell's office...why he had a lawn chair there he didnt know, but fuck it. he was liking it. He had picked a particularly empty stretch of hallway for his relaxation. Empty untill screws started falling out of doors about sixty feet away from him. "What the flying-" *CRASH*

"Ah shit....that cant be good...."

Calamity inhaled sharply but bit her tongue. Even after all this time it was hard getting use to her boss's apparent inability to understand personal space. She knew he was high but still...it was less than comforting. As he wandered off towards the door, Calamity turned to her computer.

"Research time." she mumbled, quickly searching the database for vaults containing "O" beings.
150 results. This was far too many results.
She clicked on "Sort by danger level - High to Low".
Calamity groaned, slumping back in her chair as she realized the first name on the list was the most likely result anyway. Olivier, one of the Princes. She knew Iuvart's demise wouldn't be the end of what had happened. Now the only mob boss in Hell to have completely evaded both her and Maxwell's attempts to comfortably contain him was offering a rebuttal. Iuvart was weak in comparison and she knew it. Hell, Maxwell probably knew it too. But they had dealt with him before, when he was still relatively weak, and they had plenty of notes on the nature of his weaknesses and strengths.

Bringing up his page, Calamity began the tedious process of sifting through Maxwell's anger-fueled notes for useful information.

-------------------------

The door had no knob, no keyhole, no hinges...It seemed to simply be a door set in the wall with a half-inch space between the bottom and the floor. A piece of paper slid out from under the gap suddenly, a bright light temporarily pouring out into the hallway as it did so. In spindly pink ink, the note read:

"Let's play a game, Maxie. Scavenger hunt time. Find the key and I'll give you a keyhole to unlock.
Helpful hint: New Yorke is lovely this time of year."

--------------------------

Jimmy was so incredibly fucking done. He had had quite enough of this damned wooden box and this damned knockout collar and this damned Hell. Wasn't the point of being a mobster to cause problems and annoy authority? Dumping out bottles of "Void Essence" (whatever that was) seemed like a minor offense at the most...And yet it had gotten him perma-banned from being anywhere but in a Pod and pissed off the entirety of the mob. Apparently things like this get Angels in general hunted down.

The walls around him had been decorated with colorfully worded carvings made by incredibly sharp nails. He was in the process of carving a new "Fuck You" poem when there was a sharp knock on the wall he was carving on.

"Unless you're here to open this shitty box you can go fuck yourself."
"Can it Jamie."
"Fuck you Mark."
"Boss wants you out and about, just givin' ya a heads up."
"What? Why?" Genuine confusion.
"None of your fuckin' business, kid."
"It's definitely my business."
"Kid. If they figure it out, you'll be out in no time. Pretend to help them, but fuck it up real good, ok?"
"You want me to...purposely...fail?"
"Shouldn't be too hard for you."
"Mark."
"Go fuck myself?"
"Bingo."

Aphos was leaning back in his chair when the note slid out of the door. The Ex-Reaper glanced down at the note....and pretended to ignore it for a bit....a moment passed, and he glanced down at it again. He sighed, surrendered to compulsion, and picked up the note. He read it through (Grinning briefly at the fact that he could actually see the note) But, having read it, he let out a chuckle. He went over to the door, pulled out a pen, and Wrote a counter message on the back.

It read:

"What are you five? Riddles are stupid. still, if that's what we're doing...Heres one for you. 'I was a reaper, you are a poo, What is your problem, Guess who hates you?' Ill give you a hint. Kiss my ass."

Having done so, he grinned and tossed the message back under the door. He brushed off his hands, yawned and sat back in the lawn chair.

From which was immediately kicked, with a very loud:

"THAT WOULD BE MY CHAIR! THANK YOU BITCH!"

-----------------------

Maxwell was just coming off the "Brainsplosion" portion of his high when he stepped into the hallway. The first thing he saw was aphos in his lawn chair.

Feeling that it was the only reasonable option, maxwell Launched into a flying kick.

After telling aphos what he though of the situation, he glanced at the door.

"so whats going on here?" He asked casually.

"Nothing theres just some giant asshole standing in front of a door....oh wait..."

Calamity switched back to the monitors just in time to see a chair rage flying leg kick. She was not at all surprised by this, but it still nearly brought her to tears with laughter. Catching her breath, she cleared her throat and activated the speakers.

"If you boys will stop playing around, you're dealing with a mob boss here. Olivier. Might want to get serious sometime soon. I've got intel if you want to get on the headset, Max."

She honestly missed the days where she could be out on the field, but it had been determined that the office was never under any circumstances to be left empty and Maxwell was to never be left alone in the office.

-----------------------

Behind the door there was a muffled argument taking place. If one listened close enough they could hear snippets of it, such as "..thinks he's fuckin' clever, eh?" and "This guy." and even "Seriously? That's a little overkill, boss!" followed by "I do what I want, Lance!"

Then a heavy thud. Then silence. Another note appeared a few seconds later reading: "And I'm the five year old? Here. Have one on the house." There was a few seconds pause before a super deadly super evil flask...of...whiskey? Appeared. Out from under the door. A grenade patterned flask of whiskey with no pin.

((Dodge check?))

------------------------

The Archangel, now known as Mark, was walking steadily back towards the Mansion when he saw them. Two officers. The same two that had supposedly felled Iuvart in less then 20 minutes. "Shit!" he hissed, pressing himself against the wall and drawing his Desert Eagle. He hadn't expected them to respond so quickly. He hadn't even begun the ruckus.

((Do a perception check, pwease.))

-------------------------

Jimmy leaned back against the wall of the box, venting with mumbled obscenities aimed at Mark. Wise-ass. Maybe for once he'd side with the enemy. How would they like it if HE turned his back on THEM? He paused. He had one job. Fuck up their mission by failing to help them. It was at that moment that James Gregory Yorke decided to purposely fail at failing.

But that didn't really solve the issue of potentially not being found. He had to ensure that whoever was coming would know exactly where he was.

"HEY! HEY DOUCHEBAGS OF THE TOWER! I'M OVER HERE! HEY! I SAID HEY GODDAMIT!" He pounded on the side of the box as if it had personally wronged him. Which he felt it had.

Maxwell put on his headset.

"Dude! Grenade!" Aphos shouted.

Maxwell waved him off. "Im on the phone." He chided.

Aphos briefly gave him a look that suggested he would like to put his face, headset and all through a wall, before shrugging, and kicking the grenade.

(122! Luck)

The grenade went soaring and casually slid under the door.

"NOT ENOUGH POSTAGE!" Aphos yelled. "RETURN TO SENDER!"

------------------

"So talk to me." Maxwell said to Calamity, ignoring his grenade kicking comrade. "So it is the mob bitch right? Mist Olive Air?"

"Maxwell, the sense that didn't even come close to making." Calamity sighed into the headset microphone. "Mister. Olivier. Prince of the Archangels? Biggest mob boss in Hell? Yeah he's not happy about- was that an explosion?"

===================

The grenade slid back under the door and there was a sudden scrambling noise just before the explosion. The door wheezed in protest, but didn't fall or break. Angel blood and bits of bone sprayed out from beneath the door as the grenade exploded.

((Gain 50 exp for killing Archangel Lance))

"DAMMIT ALL!" A voice yelled. "YOU SON OF A BITCH I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL SHOVE A GRENADE SO FAR UP-" Sounds of fighting ensued.
"Listen, listen...Boss'll be pissed if you kill 'em now."
"THAT WAS MY BROTHER!"
"I know, I know!"
The voices faded as if the two Angels were walking away from the door and the half-exploded corpse of their fallen friend and sibling.

====================

Mark inhaled sharply as he saw the blood. As much as every bone in his body told him this was a stupid idea, he was bound by the code to avenge a fallen brother. He swung around the corner suddenly, pistol drawn.

"Hey, bitch." He called. "Think fast." He fired off three shots in quick succession directly at Aphos's head.

((Over the Skype checks, basically Mark sucks))

The first shot whizzed past Aphos's head three inches to the right.
The second shot flew over his head by about five inches.
The pistol slipped from Mark's grip on the third shot and fell the the floor, misfiring off into the distance.

There was a momentary pause as he looked from the pistol (which had fallen a good 5 feet away) to Aphos.
"I knew this was the worst idea." He mumbled.

=====================

Jimmy was pretty sure that was an explosion. He pressed his ear to the wall of the box out of sheer curiosity. Annnnd...that was Mark. Three shots? Double tap, he assumed. Nope, there was Mark again.

Aphos stared blankly at Mark. "Wow..." he said, seeming almost impressed. "You....you just suck....like really really bad." he said. "I could not suck the amount that you just did if i trained for it my entire life....just....damn."

He sighed shaking his head.

"I almost hate to do this." He said, before leveling his shotgun directly at the angel's head. "But not quite." And he fired.

(124! Luck)

Aphos chuckled as angel skull bits splashed onto the floor before him.

"Damn...hell needs more people like him."

------------

"Right right, mob boss, powerfull, fun stuff, but what did i angry-write about him?" Maxwell asked poutilly. "I remember punching him in the face and hurting my knuckles....i remember you told me to stop about that after the third paragraph."

Calamity shook her head, deciding to ignore the explosion noises since Maxwell was refusing to entertain them. Gunshots...those were troubling. "Max is everything ok? I mean, I'm hearing a lot of activity over there..." She realized she was supposed to be relaying info. "You know what, never mind."

"Alright, here's the deal. You angry-wrote a lot about him, but the relevant info just states that he's been holed up in a vault for quite some time now and he's managed to morph it into a Mansion for him and his Angel lackeys. That place is a damned death trap. You'll be fighting on his turf, so watch for traps, ok? Not to mention there are a shitload of heavily armed Angels and Archangels wandering the halls and they can all change the Mansion at will. Here's the first problem, though: That door? Only a mob member can open it. You'll have to find one of their Angels to open the door. Fuck if I know HOW you're going to do it, but go do it."

================

Mark's head and shoulders were gone. Completely and utterly gone.

((Gain 50 exp for killing Archangel Mark.))

================

Jimmy listened for Mark's voice after the next gunshot, but it never came. He assumed that was the end of his old rival.

"THANK YOU, WHOEVER YOU ARE."

Maxwell seemed to think for a second, got an idea, chugged another vial of void, and then kept thinking. This time it was much faster. "OK! Now then! Heres what im thinking. Im going to go get a dude out of a box!"

Aphos looked nonplussed. "What?"

"A box man! A box! What are you deaf?"

Aphos rolled his eyes. "Formerly blind, but you remember how i took care of that, unless you want significantly less ears, i suggest you ust g do what you are going to do."

Maxwell seemed to think about whether it was worth shooting aphos before shrugging. "Well, ears are interesting." he said, completely failing to respond in a sensical manner.

Aphos's eye twitched.

Maxwell walked away and clicked a few buttons on a wall pannel. "I am maxwell. The password is 'stairs bro'." He looked over furtively at aphos. "I didn't tell you about the stairs bro, you dig?"

Aphos just blinked.

"I was just pulled into a realm of stupid that i cant even begin to comprehend." he said frankly. Maxwell nodded happily. Void juice made everything fun.

After a couple seconds, Jimmy's box was suddenly teleported directly into the middle of the hallway, more or less blocking it off, a fact that maxwell was seemingly not bothered by.

With a single swift motion, maxwell had punched a hole directly through the box "Like a ninja!" he yelled, before pulling the box's occupant through the hole.

"Okay!" He said. "You will now open this door." He said, smushing jimmy's face into the locked door...

Then he seemed to think. "Ah...damn, where are my manners?" he asked. But instead of letting jimmy g he just added. "So, how was your day?"

Void juice did some wierd shit to his brain.

"You're going to...NO!" Calamity stood up, knocking over several odds and ends on her desk. "NO! Don't you dare take that bunny-hopping madman out of his box!"

=
8 years earlier

"I can dance all day bitch!"
"STAND STILL DAMMIT!" Calamity punched James in the face, staggering him.
"Ow, shit! Hey, hey, here's an idea..." He returned the punch.
Seemingly unphazed, Calamity drew her pistol and pointed it at the Angel before her. "Let's try it again. Collar, on, now."
"You're not going to shoot me. I can read people, you know, and you-"
Calamity put a bullet in his thigh.
"What the- you crazy bitch!" He fell on his ass.
=

"YOU PUT THAT BUNNY HOPPING MADMAN BACK IN THAT BOX RIGHT THE FUCK NOW, MAXWELL." She screamed into the mic, knowing full well Max had probably already muted her.

===============

Jimmy felt the box shake roughly and he found himself pressed entirely too firmly against the wood. Someone was moving him. "Careful with the merchandise, man, serio-"

WHAM.

He would have cursed Maxwell out and struggled in his grip and maybe even electrocuted him for shoving his face into a door had he not been knocked unconscious by the box-breaking blow.

Maxwell Had muted calamity almost before her first sentence was done. "Right then." he said. "If you dont open the door i'll be forced to...oh, well that's inconsiderate, you fell asleep in the middle of my threats."

Aphos looked at maxwell withone eye raised. "Dude..." Aphos started.

"Look, it isnt my fault the guy is narcoleptic." maxwell argued preemtively.

"You knocked him the fuck out you stupid asshole."

"Yeah well..."

Aphos rubbed his temples. "Fine." he said, "gimmie a sec."

Aphos fished a bottle of ginger-ale out of the cooler he had next to the lawn chair.

"That is my fucking soda." Maxwell grumbled.

"And this is my fucking finger." Aphos said, demonstrating his best one finger salute.

"Now then." He said. And splashed the whole bottle of ginger-ale on the unconcious angel.

"GET UP!" Aphos yelled.

Jimmy lurched, startled by the fizzy coldness. He groaned and pushed himself into an upright sitting position. The last time he'd been knocked out cold like that was when the bitch with the headset had put him IN the box. "Ow. Ow and fuck you." He spit in Maxwell's direction. Then he seemed to notice the door. So that's what this was all about.

For a long moment, Jimmy seemed to be weighing his options. Should he run? He could probably outrun the two of them with ease. Except for the fact that they could knock him unconcious with the press of a button. So no, running was stupid. Should he fight them? It didn't take a genius to figure out that it was angel blood leaking from under the door and Jimmy had a feeling that nobody minded turning him into an angel corpse either. He sighed in defeat and stood up.

"Let me make one thing clear. I'm not helping you pricks out of the kindness of my heart, ok? Keep that in mind next time you want to go swinging your fist like a crackhead ape." He hissed. Reaching down for what should have been a rubix cube on his belt loop, Jimmy cursed loudly. His stuff was still in the mansion. Which meant the easy-open method was no longer an option. "Let's see if I still remember how to redecorate..." He mumbled, placing his palm flat on the door in the center of the "O".

((Unfortunately, he's not very imaginative. But he's determined and lucky enough to not be completely useless.))

The door creaked in protest and splintered slightly around the hinges. He pressed harder, the wood glowing slightly under his skin, and the door snapped clean in half, falling away and disolving into the floor. Jimmy turned to the two officers behind him.

"We're getting my stuff before we do anything else. Understood?"

"Yeah fi-" maxwell began.

"Nah, fuck that noise, bitches threw a grenade at me." Aphos said, his sharky teeth beared in a mockery of a grin. "My advice to you is to stay the fuck out of my way!" Saying this, a shotgun apeared in his hands, clinking with black chains. "Im fuckin locked and loaded motherfuckers!" Aphos said, striding through the door, and cocking his shotgun.

Maxwell shrugged and looked at Jimmy. "Actually, his plan sounds more fun." He said appologeticaly. "But sure, we can get your stuff at some point between now and burning your boss to ashes." He said cheerfully.

Jimmy gave Aphos a smug grin. "I'll stay out of your way, yeah, fine. Good luck opening ninety nine percent of the doors in this hellhole though. You're not an angel." He jammed his hands in his pockets (He'd have to change out of this stupid business suit as soon as possible) and strode forward past both of them.

Maxwell wouldn't have seen much, just the hallway itself and maybe a few paintings on the walls. Before them was a long, empty stretch of hallway. The walls were covered with faded mauve wallpaper and dark mahagony trim. Over the worn wood floors was a stretch of dark red carpet. No doors, no furniture, certainly no ornate light fixtures or finely carved figures in glass display cases.

Jimmy saw the doors, the cases, the paintings, the fluffy armchairs placed here and there, the offshoot hallways...Things only angel eyes could see. The mansion was beautiful, really. Some of it was 1920's nobility kind of beautiful, some of it was early victorian era beautiful, hell...bits and pieces were Gothic Cathedral kind of beautiful. The only truly odd part was that none of the doors had handles. Or hinges.

Walking up to one of the less decorated doors (an empty spot of wall as far as most were concerned), Jimmy placed his hand on the wood and walked through it, calling a sing-song "Have fun getting fucked over" over his shoulder as he entered his old room.

I'm so screwed if they figure out how this place works. He thought, walking briskly over to his desk and snatching his void box from it's pedestal. Jimmy hooked it to his belt loop and took a deep breath, straightening out his tie.

Yep. He was going to get annhialated within five minutes or less if he faced his old boss, and in five seconds flat if he had to fight the two officers he'd just let into the mansion.

Aphos was about four feet in front of jimmy when he made his little comment and walked through a wall. But it wasnt a wall, he had gone through a door. Aphos was having none of it. As jimmy strode into his room, Aphos turned on his heel, drew his shotgun back like a baseball bat and Smashed it directly through the solid wood. "Suprise motherfucker!" Aphos said, grinning like a maniac. With this he pressed his shotgun directly up against jimmy's chest. "so, care to repeat that, Cause im not sure i HEARD CORRECTLY! After all, who would be stupid enough to insult me when im pissed off, huh? Would it be you?"


Maxwell Looked nonplussed when Jimmy walked through a wall. He looked slightly more happy when aphos smashed through a wall. "That's my deranged assistant/prisoner/whatever." he said. "Now...How to do that...I guess just pick a wall..." Maxwell picked a wall, and kicked...

"How the heLL OH GOD DAMMIT!" Jimmy found himself on the wrong end of a maniac's shotgun. "Now wait a second, easy there tiger, easy, jesus christ!" He held his hands up defensively, backing up against the wall. This was not at all what he was expecting. How could this...whatever he was...see like an angel? Jimmy knew this man wasn't one of Olivier's. He would have opened the door himself if he was.

But damn did he looked familiar. Something about his face. More specifically his eyes...

"How the hell did you get those?!" Jimmy gripped the barrel of the shotgun in both hands, prepared to either take a fatal storm of bullets or escape if he was lucky. Either Iuvart had gone insane and had plastic surgery or there was an eye-stealing shotgun-toting lunatic on the loose.

-------------------------

Maxwell picked the wrong wall.

His foot connected with the crotch of an Angel, who became very visible with a loud "FUCK!"

The Angel locked eyes with Maxwell and growled, spreading its wings and producing a pistol.
"We were going to be subtle but you know what? Change of plans."

================

Calamity was so confused. She could see absolutely nothing on the monitors and Maxwell had apparently not unmuted her yet. The monitors that were supposed to specifically be fixed on Maxwell (through various means of complicated majykks) at all times were just white static. Everything else was fine, but he was invisible.

"Easy? Take it fucking easy?" Aphos asked in a soft voice. "Fine." he said. "Grab your shit and lead me where i need to go, that way I dont feel anymore tempted to do you fatal harm." He said, his smile not quite reaching his stolen eyes.

Aphos noticed the angel staring at his eyes and grinned even bigger. "Yeah, i decided to replace my eyes with these ones since mine were pretty fucked up. They're just great frankly, i can see through all your bullshit. Fun right?"

------------

Maxwell blinked. "Well, unexpected. Funny, but unexpected." As the angel ranted about subtltey maxwell grinned. "you're right, subtletey is bullshit." So saying he drew a rippling scythe from midair and swung it in a high ark, attempting to bury it midway through the angel's body.

"Boom." maxwell said, and sent a wave of chaotic energy flowing down the weapon, ready to escape in a burst of imaginative destruction in the truest sense of the phrase.

"Yeah well." Jimmy mumbled. "That's disturbing and when I die I fucking forbid you to loot my corpse. Not much worth taking anyway."

He heard the angry yell of one of the Angels he used to work with and snickered. "Looks like your buddy's already making enemies."

============

The Angel ducked down and dove to the side, landing flat on his back to the right of Maxwell. "Yorke! Help me out goddamit!"

Jimmy appeared in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and tongue planted firmly in his cheek. "Aw c'mon Logan. You don't need MY help."

"He does that." Aphos said happily. Then he looked around at all the angels hiding around the area. He glanced at one walking along the corridor, trying to be sneaky. Aphos smiled casually, and strode slowly up the corridor. The angel walked near him, assuming he was invisible. It was at this moment that aphos jammed his shotgun a good two inches into the angel's nose, causing blood to spray everywhere.

"Gotta love the smell of gunpowder in the morning!" Aphos said, leaning in close to the angel, his sharp teeth uncomfortably close to the angels ear. "Smells like angel brains." Saying this aphos pulled the trigger. There was a moment of contented silence from Aphos, before he turned to jimmy and grinned, a drop of angel blood dripping down his face. "Smells like fun." he hissed happily, then continued up the hall, heedless, towards the door he could percieve as being olivier's.

------------

Maxwell Looked down at the angel, his face drawn into a frown of what looked like dissapointment. "Fuck no." Maxwell said angrily. "You will get stabbed, and you will like it." so saying, maxwell ripped the scythe out of the wall and whipped it directly down to try to spear the angel right through the head.

The Angel flailed desperately, letting out a startled cry as it's nose was unceremoniously shattered. It made direct eye contact with Jimmy, as if accusing him of something, before it's head was no more. Jimmy swallowed hard and looked away from Aphos' crazed blood-drenched expression. Even though he wanted revenge on the mob and Olivier as much as they did, it was still unsettling.

"It's not that way." He called quietly, eyes still on the floor and face still reflecting disgust. "Do you seriously think his door would be completely unguarded and have his name on it?"
Because it is and it does. But it's still not that door.

---------------

Logan wasn't done cursing at Jimmy and it almost cost him his life. He wrenched sideways, avoiding the scythe's physical wrath by a mere few inches. It was the shockwave of imagination energy that erupted from the point where the blade met floor that he couldn't have hoped to avoid.

((129 damage, imagination))


The Angel was completely consumed by the shockwave.

Aphos glanced over his shoulder. "Yeah, i guess that would be too much to hope for. That being said, lead the way bitchy-wings." He said, prodding jimmy with his still blood soaked shotgun barrel.

----------

Maxwell smiled happily as the wave of imaginative energy ripped the angel's body into atoms then recombined them into a teddy bear., who's face was stuck in a look of terror. Its eyes were moving, but nothing else was. It had tiny wings on its back but also had a large nail stuck through its forehead. Maxwell smiled, and tossed jimmy the bear. "Here!" he said happily. "Have a bear!"

"Bitchy....wings....?" Jimmy sighed in aggravation, swatting the bloody shotgun barrel away and looking around the hallway. It had changed a lot since he'd last seen it...It was always changing. A bear hit him in the back of the head and he looked down at it with annoyance before picking it up, shoving it in his void box (to humor the psychotic officers of hell), and re-focusing on the task at hand. "We start opening O doors and fucking up whatever is behind them." He concluded, heading towards the nearest door with a neon green O painted sloppily on the front. He twisted one side of the Void Box sharply, producing a rusted iron key.

Jimmy turned the key in the lock that had obviously always been there and the door made a hollow wheezing noise. "Ah shit."

The door shattered, a large black and purple pulse of energy blasting outwards.

((Jimmy and Aphos escape, Maxwell takes 5 damage))

Jimmy was out of the blast's radius in less than a second's time. He was hovering, feet slightly separated from the floor and coated with a sort of gray static, 25 feet away from the door. Although the blast was done and over with, he smiled weakly and with a nervous laugh simply said: "Heads."

----------------------------


Calamity was feverishly messing around with various programs. With a triumphant "FUCK YES!" she forced Maxwell's headset to un-mute and shouted "WHERE THE FLYING FUCK ARE YOU MAXWELL SMILES?!" into the microphone.

Maxwell blinked a couple of times. "Ow." he said unhappily, before turning his attention to his shouting partner in crime. "Well. I see you have once again hacked my incredible muting tactic. I am foiled at every turn by your shenanigans." Maxwell said, incredibly, apearing completely serious. "I am in a house with exploding doors and invisible angels, that also apears to contain large amounts of pictures that arent very pretty....and arent gory enough to go the other direction. Not even sexy....yeah, they'll have to go." maxwell said, getting completely off topic. Then, every single pictureframe in the hallway burst into flame, and maxwell grinned. Then he went to catch up with the other two, humming world's on fire by the prodigy.

-----------

Aphos glared at Jimmy, as he came out of his (rather incredible) sprint. "Well Bitchy-wings, what the fuck was that?" he asked, sounding almost indignant.

"That, assbutt, was not the right door. And that," he jerked his chin towards the hulking mass of guard dog barreling down the hallway, "is unhappy with me." Feet planted firmly on the floor, Jimmy produced a FAMAS G2 and aimed it at the dog. "Go down that hallway, take your pyromaniac buddy, and kill anything that moves THAT ISN'T ME." It probably seemed like he was waiting an abnormally long time to shoot at the animal.

Which was because it wasn't an animal. It was an angel.

The thing skidded to a halt 10 feet away before straightening up into a proper suit-and-tie mobster Angel.

Spoiler:

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"Oh for the love of…" Calamity was still amazed by how ridiculous Maxwell could be. "Listen to me. I can't see you at all. Do me a favor: James Yorke's collar has a little video camera and microphone in it. Turn that on so I can keep up to date with you people."