Holy Shit, Power Rangers!

[rawful]

Done done and done. Param only had a small window of time to dispose of the body before people alerted the authorities of the gunshot he let off in the small neighborhood. Like always he was quick, Anthony had the man by the arms when he rose up, put his glasses back on and dusted the dirt off his shoulder.

"IIIIIIEEEEE!!!'

The shriek was louder than the gunshot. He stood there mouth agape, struggling to deal with what he just saw while his brain was on standby. Eventually he resorted to sit him and his gun down at the table for a time out, letting out a big sigh of disbelief. He had precious little time to make sense of all this. Was it the food, something in the water? He could try another shot?

Geezes christ.

[TempoPrestissimo]

Sylvan's brain was all slow and fuzzy and he stood still for a moment, getting his bearings. Anthony's shriek didn't help, and the suddenness of his hands going to his ears almost knocked himself off balance. "Ah, any louder, Mr. Fettuccine?" Sylvan asked, less than politely.

He slowly dropped his hands and looked at the man, who has been surprised and now looked resigned to the what-the-fuckery he was seeing before him. Oh wait. Anthony probably had less than zero ideas about magic. Sylvan hadn't thought of that.

"Thank you for not shooting me again. Anyways, we're going to have to make this quick..." Sylvan pulled his glasses off and pulled a cloth from his vest pocket to clean the blood off of them. "I am certain that shot is going to get people's attention in a quiet neighborhood like this. I found you by way of John, your prison mate. Not the brightest fellow but he has his uses. I was the one who broke him out. I have some place we can talk if you'd rather not be caught by the local police. After all... I do look like I've been hurt quite a bit." Sylvan shrugged.

[rawful]

If Sylvan had an appetite for big sad brown eyes, he'd be fortunate enough to sample the finest dishes twice this week. Anthony looked up from his face palm, and in a quavery voice conceded to Sylvan's requests in a way a child finally comes to terms with their not having their way, or getting in trouble.

"O-okaaaay."

He got up from his chair, stubbornly not letting go of his gun, it's function against Sylvan being reduced to more like Anthony's teddy bear or comfort item.

[TempoPrestissimo]

Sylvan's only thought, when Anthony agreed so complacently, was that he was glad that Anthony didn't shoot him again. That was good. He didn't think he'd be able to deal with that twice. "Don't look so upset. I'm not going to retaliate. But I am going to need your hand if we're going to leave." He gave it a second to sink in before he took Anthony's hand, not wanting to startle him.

Then, in a flash, they were gone, reappearing in the living room of the head quarters. Avalon, who had been in there reading, looked up and screamed.

"Master!" She threw the book down and ran to him, her eyes panicked. A little dazed, he caught her. "Hush, my dear, hush..."

"Look at all this blood! Are you okay?!" She touched his face and he took her hand. "Hush, Avalon. Yes, I am alright. This is Anthony Fettuccine. He-"

"He shot you!" She cried, seeing the gun in his hand. She turned to Anthony angrily. "You shot him? Why? He was trying to hire you not kill you! What the hell?!"

"Avalon, language." Sylvan said shortly. She immediately quieted down. "Sorry, Master." Her loud cries had done so little to help his headache. "Don't worry. Just hush my sweet..." He kissed her temple and turned to Anthony.

"Forgive her. She wasn't expecting us. Please, sit down, we can talk. Did you want something to eat?" Sylvan seemed a little tired, but gracious as ever.

[rawful]

Anthony pouted and held Sylvan's hand, figuring he didn't have a choice, as someone with that kind of magical ability would probably have ways of making him do it. He stood there looking desolate, contemplating what fate a strange wizard would conjure up for him.

Then he was in a living room, with lots of screaming done by a hysterical woman. Anthony was in the mood for bullshit just as much as Sylvan was. "Not like it fuckin mattered." He half scowled at her, half muttered to himself, sounding like he was still disappointed that it didn't work.

Anthony eyed the exit, and declined the offer for food and refused to sit. There was only one way out, well two, but the other was a long long way down, and he didn't trust the food not to be poisoned.

[TempoPrestissimo]

Anthony didn't sit, but Sylvan did, leaning his head back against the cushions and closing his eyes momentarily. Anthony also, rather predictably, didn't want food, but Sylvan asked Avalon to do something anyways. "Could you make some tea, my pet?" He asked, opening his eyes and sitting up a little reluctantly. He wasn't worried about getting blood on the couch, most of it was on the front of him anyways.

She scurried off immediately and Sylvan turned his attention to Anthony again. "Are you sure you don't want a seat?" he offered again. "It is normally easier to speak business sitting down." He didn't wait for an answer before he continued.

"I want to employ you temporarily. John has been hired on but I think I could use more help. You will be payed. And I have the ability to pull a few strings that might be of use to you." Sylvan said quietly. Avalon reappeared carrying a tray of tea with several cups, gave Anthony a brief glare and set the tray down on the table in front of Sylvan. "Here you go, Master...." She said quietly, sitting down next to him, her face full of worry.

[Ghost Raziel]

John could be heard walking down the hall towards the living area, his military issue boots that he'd found in his closet, and a small part of him wondered if Sylvan had planned that.
"so why is that bitch screechin?" Then he stepped into the room, and his eyes fell on Anthony.
"oh, you're why she's screechin." He turned to Sylvan.
"thanks for the uniform boss." With that he turned and went back to exploring the compound, hoping to find some of the military hardware that must have been kept there at some point.

[Ghost Raziel]

Brand had a long day at the shop, not that he was complaining, he enjoyed his job, the people who came into the shop were usually friend regulars or curious new comers who soaked up any advice he gave them like it meant life or death. He always told them to try other things too though, but that wouldn't be on his mind long as he unlocked the door and stepped in, almost throwing his side bag on top of the bloodied jeans on the couch. He sighed and rolled his eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brand had run most of the way to the hospital, which wasn't a big deal to him, and as he was about to go in he bumped into Charon.
"alright dude, who'd you break this time? you realize you owe me shawarma now right?" Brand grinned up at Charon, breathing just a little heavily.
"you alright man?" Brand wasn't completely heartless after all, he and Charon were brothers, well kinda.

[rawful]

Anthony was just as hard and scowly faced as ever when John came into the room, offering his so called partner nothing but a grunt and dirty look. Boss. Cute. He didn't know they were holding auditions for cartoon villain henchmen. No wonder the man wanted extra help. Still, every man had his price, and he had his own too.

"Strings?"

[TempoPrestissimo]

"One moment." Sylvan, already irritable from having been shot in the head and having the resulting migraine unintentionally exacerbated by Avalon, was not pleased at John's little slip and intended to right his manners before they got any worse. He stood, striding after him, and only called out to him when they were no longer in sight of Sylvan's guest. "John." He said, sharply.

Once he had the man's attention, Sylvan didn't wait for much else. "You're welcome to be derogatory to women elsewhere but as long as you are on my payroll I expect that you will treat Avalon with respect and never call her that again. I'm certain with all the skills you've managed to accumulate that this one thing will not be too complicated for you to manage." His words were curt but not exactly rude, and without waiting for an answer he turned back to talk to the man he had recently sort of kidnapped. Sort of.

"My apologies. Yes, strings. Ah, where was I..." he rubbed his temples and sat down again with a sigh. "I have some favours owed to me from people in high places, law enforcement and what have you. Well, some legitimate enough, others are blackmail, but I may as well use them for something productive." he took a deep breath and looked back up, managing a polite smile to Anthony. "You have a family that I am certain misses you a great deal. And you have children as well, don't you? It might be nice to be able to go back to that. Not to mention that you have a business to run."

[rawful]

No response, he was seething. Standing in a corner , shaking and caressing his weapon longingly. How was it that he knew about his family, about his business? He knew too much, he wanted to fill him with bullets and take those secrets to the grave with him, but it was a wasted effort. He hated that.

Nothing was private, how was he supposed to function. Damnit, he even seemed to be pulling the same strings he had. Assuming was too risky, but if it was as he said there was nothing from stopping him from controlling the underground, his family.

So he'd offer to pull some strings? Who's to say he hadn't been pulling them this whole time? He didn't like it one bit. But since he was basically being kidnapped he had no choice. He wanted his family back but he didn't want to acknowledge that the nosy bastard was right.

So he stood, grumbling.

[TempoPrestissimo]

Sylvan took his saucer and cup of tea and sat, waited, in no hurry for Anthony to answer. He sipped at his tea and nursed his migraine as Avalon waited silently at his side. Of course Anthony wasn't happy with him. Sylvan knew things he shouldn't and had access to information he shouldn't. Of course that would make Anthony upset with him. But, that was just the way things were. Anyone in power normally hated to be shown that they did not have the most, and Anthony would eventually calm down. Sure, there were stronger people than Sylvan, more clever or more capable, but they just weren't around right now.

Sylvan took a big deep breath, enjoying the quiet instead of fretting over Anthony's anger. When he stood, Sylvan looked over to him, but he didn't speak. He'd let the man deal with it in his own time.

[rawful]

Anthony wasn't going to dignify Sylvan's obvious superiority with an answer. Sylvan probably already knew what he wanted, since he knew everything else. The only thing that was left to do was wait for everything to pan out exactly the way Sylvan planned.

Short of spitting his hatred at Sylvan, Anthony walked off in what was the most subtle and contained tantrum he could.

[TempoPrestissimo]

John wasn't mad about Sylvan's little reprimand... Or at least no more mad than normal. Of course the boss was picky about how he talked about the little bitch, the boss probably had a hundred reasons why it was a bad idea to call her that... But it was the boss fucking a woman who was what, fifteen years younger than he was? Okay, maybe ten. But either way, she was a whore and he was an asshole.

But John would listen. He got paid and got to hurt people. Of course he'd listen.

Still, when he was wandering around in his not-more-angry-than-normal-mood-but-still-pretty-angry-mood and he saw Anthony stalking off away from Sylvan, he figured the boss had explained his terms and Anthony, used to being the boss himself, wasn't pleased. John didn't exactly care, but the longer Anthony spent wasting time going WOE IS ME SYLVAN IS A TRICKY BASTARD the longer it would take to get to the good part, the violence.

"He pissing you off too, eh?" John asked. He had set up in the kitchen, using one of the tables to assemble some gun he had in pieces. "I'd kill him if it actually worked, but you saw what happens when you try." John shrugged.

[TempoPrestissimo]

Tristan had long ago taken a liking to the Earth, but being trapped there had left him without most of his original powers... Like a body, for one. But he liked humans, for the most part. They could be very bad, but they also seemed to hold infinite potential for good.

So it was that which had him so concerned about the events in Angel Grove. It wasn't every week that both a bank and a prison got blown up! And There was something that made him certain that it was more than just human terrorists...

So, in his remote tower in the mountains outside of a mid-sized, bustling city, he made a decision.

He could do little from where he was, at least, not on his own. But he had R.I.T.A., and she (it) could summon for him people who could. "Rita! I fear we have a terrible choice upon us. I do not think that the recent tragedies that have taken place in Angel Grove are of human sources. We may need to act, and quickly, if we are to prevent more loss of life!" The robot would likely snark before getting to work, but Tristan felt that acting now could save lives, or so he hoped.