2013.06.28 - Harpies in Anthracite Grey

Quiet nights in the city are a rarity. Which is why, of course, that no quiet night can stay quiet. The Metro Museum of Art was showcasing a collection from an anonymous donor. Highly mythological in theme, the art experts and researchers also failed to consider there could be nefarious purpose behind the donation. And so tonight, with the full moon rising, a beam of moon's light pierces a window of the museum and hits a painting... and reacts with the arcane pigments used to make the painting.

It doesn't take long before the pigment-harpies, brought to life by the moonlight, are shrieking and flying through the air, chasing a charity out from the museum's hall and devouring all the food in sight. Then they spread outwards, soaring around the museum and diving at passing citizens.

Helena Bertinelli was here for this gallery opening because, well, it's interesting stuff! And she wouldn't have had the free time to do so a few months ago. As it is, she's left Gotham to its own devices tonight. They'll just have to make do without her. Dressed in a simple black dress she's definitely one of the least ornately dressed people there, but that's irrelevant, because now, OF COURSE, stuff hit the fan. She ducks out of the way of... what the hell are those things? But unlike most every other person here, she's NOT screaming and panicking. Instead, she's doing a quick mental inventory of her little clutch purse and the objects in the room. Improvisational weaponry... god. Why isn't Q here?

Likewise, Diana was at the charity. She arrived prior to Helena and often found herself surrounded by the curious. So she may have been missed in the crowd! But when the harpies reveal themselves, Diana is left alone outside, having followed the fleeing people. She frowns deeply, watching the hybrid beasts swoop and soar. "Oh Hera... doesn't this city deserve one quiet night?" Patriarch's World or not! Diana spins, her very presence quickly obliterated from view by a brilliant flash of light. Her simple black dress is gone, replaced by the more familiar Wonder Woman costume. It takes little time for her lasso to wrap around one harpy's neck, pulling it back down to earth to meet the Princess' fist. *WHOMP*

Helena Bertinelli has actually not made it all the way out the door, having ducked behind a security desk. While she's back there, she rifles through the drawers she can open, hoping to... well, hell. Better than nothing. One billy club. And a laser pointer. That could be completely useless, but then she's seen Q take people down with a door handle. Taking her new weapons and leaving her heels behind, she pads back toward where she /thinks/ those hideous flying things came from but is startled by the sound of something hitting something else with a good amount of force. Damn. She peeks around a pillar to try and see what's going on.

Wonder Woman blocks two talon-first dives from harpies using her bracelets. The one she hit before is on the ground, looking more like a melted chocolate figure than anything. Not real harpies, clearly! She throws another punch, but just missing the harpy. It darts out of the way. While the two concentrate on Diana, more swoop down, summoned by.. the noise of Helena walking? Scent? Whatever it is, the bird-women spy her looking at Diana and dives towards her, talons outstretched!

Helena Bertinelli hisses out a VERY much impolite word and uses the only ranged weapon she has. She aims the little laser pointer's red light at the harpy's eyes, hoping it distracts the thing enough for her to avoid those talons. And maybe she can even lash out with the billy club as it swoops by. She's not holding out too much hope, though.

Hey, it's a laser pointer! Those things hurt the eyes, regardless of what kind of eyes! The harpy makes an all-too-human screech and then barrel rolls at the last minute to avoid the pillar it did not see thanks being temporarily blind. Its path takes it well within range of Helena's billy club.

Meanwhile Diana spins around, landing another hard punch. The harpy goes flying and smacks pulpily into the nearest pillar, leaving a gooey mess. Two down, how many more to go? The Amazon looks up, deflecting another attack. She counts. A good dozen to go.

Helena Bertinelli whacks the harpy a good one as it careens past, and recoils when it goes splat instead of that nice meaty sound that one gets when hitting something solid. "The fuck? Augh." She shakes the... what is this goop? "Is this /paint/?" she asks loudly enough for her voice to echo across the exhibit hall.

"They seem to be!" Diana calls out. She ducks a swipe of wings. "You should get out of here while you can," she notes, glancing over. All she sees: civilian in a dress. "They look like they come from one of the paintings on display. I've never seen harpies made from paint, however." She's seen harpies before though, of course. Real ones.

Huh. Someone else with a brain AND a spine. What're the chances? She calls back, "Did you happen to see which painting?" Yeah, the gallery AND the owner of that painting are probably about to start cringing. Helena starts making her way toward the new exhibit to locate the painting and ... do something. She's not sure what yet. Ooh, wait, the buffet table. She dashes across to the buffet table and starts snagging the silverware, especially the knives.

Wonder Woman turns and starts running after Helena. She has to rely on listening for the footsteps; the brunette's already moved ahead of her. The harpy she left behind screeches, and the ones higher in the air return the screech, diving down to aid their fellow. "Whatever you think we should do, I suggest we do it quickly!" She heard it. "We're not going to be alone for long!"

Helena Bertinelli looks up, and the gallery lights glint on the silverware as she throws it with hopefully deadly accuracy at the converging harpies. And... holy shit that's Wonder Woman. Don't get starstruck now, H, damnit. Keep moving! She dashes away from the buffet table and toward the exhibit as she calls back, "Hold 'em off, I'm gonna go vandalize a bit!" Thank god she's never been a fan of close-fitting skirts.

"Somehow I knew you were going to say that." Always the answer, right? Diana positions herself on the staircase between the entrance and the hall where the donated paintings were laid out. The harpy one is painfully obvious: there are tiny, harpy-shaped gaps in the painting. "They're coming!" Sure enough, the air is filled with the beating of many wings. The horde bears down on Wonder Woman, who brings lasso and fists against the talons. They seem focused on the Amazon Princess, unaware that there's anyone else to attack.

One ugly-ass painting, check. Harpy-shaped voids, check. Helena uses the billy club to smash through any glass between herself and the painting ... and now she's regretting leaving her shoes behind. Oh well, too late to fuss about that now. She reaches for the painting, yanks it down from its installation, and slashes at it with one of the silverware knives. And, of course, now irrationally wonders if the knife is real silver. Like that would make any kind of difference.

With each slice on the painting, identical slices appear on the harpies. They turn sluggish. Wonder Woman starts connecting her punches more and more often. More harpies pour in, but they suffer the same fates. They get sliced by Helena's slicing the painting. And when the thing is finally torn to ribbons, the final harpies explode in a splattering of foul-smelling paint. Yum.

Helena Bertinelli ughs and holds the painting away from her face as it starts to reek like the formerly-harpy paint splatters do. "Augh. Vile. You okay out there?" She looks down and very carefully uses the frame around the tatters of the painting to sweep as much broken glass out of her way as possible. No splinters, no splinters... "OW! Damnit!"

"I'm all right!" she calls back. A bit of paint on her arms, but otherwise okay. "Are you all right?" she asks. But then the Princess is already headed up the stairs and around the corner to find Helena. No harpies. What could be causing her to yelp?

Helena Bertinelli stands still, trying to not lose her balance and muttering still more curses under her breath. "Why do the smallest pieces always fucking hurt the most?" Leaning a bit, she reaches and pulls over one of the velvet rope stands to help her balance while trying to look for the sliver embedded in the bottom of her foot. GOD, if the Bat ever hears about this...

Well, he's not going to hear it from Diana. ...Not that she'd know to tell him anyhow. "Here..." She lifts off the ground and easy flies over the glass to Helena, offering a hand. "Let's take the shortcut, shall we?" she smiles. "Thank you for the help, it was very timely." When they land on the other side, she offers her hand again, this time to shake Helena's. "I'm Diana of Themyscira." Something she probably doesn't need to say, but she does anyhow. She's not quite grasped just how far and wide the media has spread her image and name. And the Wonder Woman name they'd given her.

Okay, now it's time to safely act like the stupid starstruck civilian. "Oh, um, wow. Okay. Thanks. Helena Bertinelli." She's got a bit of a Jersey accent going on there. Anyone good at that kind of thing would place it as Gotham. "And... what was with those things? Why'd they come of the painting like that?"

"Harpies," answers the Amazon. "Well... replicas of harpies." She nods towards the recently-destroyed painting's remains. "If I were to guess, the painting was magical and something made it activate." Her gaze narrows at the rest of the paintings. "And yet the rest did not."

Helena Bertinelli looks over at the empty space in the installation and the rest of the paintings around it. "Yeah. Freaky. Maybe the gallery shouldn't put them on display again until someone figures out what caused this?" Because, really, they were really lucky that the worst damage done was Helena's own smashing through the display to get at the painting. "Uh... they're not gonna get mad at me for that, are they?" That's a suitably civilian concern, right?

Wonder Woman shakes her head. "I'll explain the situation and make sure the paintings are put back in storage. You won't be held responsible for any damages." She smiles. "Again, thank you very much for your aid, Ms. Bertinelli. It was lucky you were here."

Helena Bertinelli hehs. "Lucky? Yeah, maybe. She limps back over to that security station to reclaim her shoes and see if there's a first aid kit there to get the glass sliver out of the bottom of her foot.