Star of The Show [Psyche-Terrorist Dungeon]

Rolling counter for Aya's double fangs

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She could feel the pressure building up in her forehead, it was excruciating pain. She needed to kill these things and they needed to die NOW. The minions that Unison summoned didn't alleviate the pain any, nothing did, nothing would except for seeing these things destroyed. Wicked clutched her staff harder, one hand grasping at her head.
"Die! Die die die why won't you just die already!?" Her Persona once more appeared with a much more sinister grin, summoning her whip again to lash at the nimble cat.

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The devil cat was blasted back off its feet to the sound of maniacal laughter from the witch. The pressure started to go down, just like she knew it would, but she knew she wasn't done. All of them had to die. Hurting something else was the only way to make the pain stop. The thoughts of violence began to amplify in her head until it was all she could think about.

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All of them were on the ground. They would stay on the ground. Wicked would make sure that she obliterated them. That's just what happens to anyone that gets in your way, they get removed. Patricia cackled gleefully as she dashed between the two of them, holding her staff high as it charged with raw energy to deliver an enormous explosion of pure power.
"Hahahahaaaa! Heeheeheeheehahaaaaa! GET! FUCKED!"

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Hp is really 1888 since i was healed a round after the one she put the shield up

"Almost there to the treasure, let's just hope it was worth the trouble."

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"Ahahaha... ahahaaa... WHOOOO, what a rush!" The witch giggled a little as she relaxed, the ache in her brain subsiding for the time being to a dull thud. So THAT was fun! Down to the wire, almost losing control, yet she pulled through and looked cool doing it.  This is what she came here for, that rush of adrenaline, that raw energy coursing through her veins in the heat of the moment. She was even willing to overlook Rusty being a complete dick to her, all was forgiven as long as she was enjoying herself like she showed up for. Wicked didn't know what would happen if she lost herself to the feeling and it scared her but excited her as well. Walking along the edge of a knife was how she got her kicks. Patricia wiped a hand across her face to wipe the sweat off, it felt more wet than usual. That's because it was bloody. She looked down at her glove for a second to find it stained with red. Her nose was bleeding again, lightly tonguing her lips she could taste the copper of it. It ran down to her chin. She wiped her hand on her pants. Patty didn't wanna worry about this right now, like, after this was over she could see a doctor Only if you want to get caught, they'll put you in prison for what you've been doing crash in her dorm for a while and figure this out.

"Sounds awesome, man! Dolla dolla bills, y'all! Ahahaha!"

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Revenant gave an exasperated sigh through gritted teeth. He didn't even have it in him to care about the maniacal display of power Wicked had just perpetrated. Facing up to the government was wearing him down, and in a way he had never expected.
That said, he still stayed alert where Wicked was concerned...and couldn't help but notice the red streak. "...do you still have the bottle you were given?"
He didn't know if this is what those pills were for, but better safe than sorry.

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Unison followed behind the others after the fight was done, she had to wonder what hold the government had over the demons working for them...perhaps they feared the government? that would make them as oppressed as the people of the city...some maybe worked willingly? she honestly couldn't say, though this was the second time they had come into a place held by the district head and it had demons in it to defend the place. she had to ask herself what would become of the demons that they killed, where they actually killed? banished? she would need to ask the only person that probably knew, or at least knew more then she did, but that would have to wait till after this was all done.

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Wicked greedily dug into the box they had headed to, anticipating something incredible for having to blow up like, fifteen demons or some kinda nonsense on their way there. She hoped it was money, money was always good. Or like jewels or something. Or maybe a gun, duuuuuuude that would be sick! Patty wanted to dual wield that shit like a badass and just rain hell on things, it'd be sick as hell yo! Buuuuuuuuut it wasn't. It was a bottle of anti-venom. Lame. It wasn't even the fun kind of drugs like Percocet or Valium.
"Pssssh, what a rip off. We got more cool stuff off those cats after we blew'em up, heheheh," she chuckled to herself. That was still totally awesome though, like she wished there was footage of it so she could watch herself kick so much ass in hi-def slo-mo frame by frame.

Everyone was getting used to her too it seems, which was good since getting judged usually put people in her bad books. Like she just wanted to have fun, y'know? Live a little. Everyone here is fighting monsters in an abandoned TV studio, like they could learn to at least enjoy it instead of having sticks up their asses and most kinda did, especially Tux. He seemed like a chill guy. The chick with the belts, Unison or whatever was kinda cold but she was helpful enough, Patty really didn't like all the philosophical talk of it all. She just wanted to do fun things like melting faces with the power of awesome. Then there was Rusty. Something was bothering him, like he was cool and all the other night when they were drinking but now he was acting like a preachy douche bag. She really did wish they'd found Valium so he could take a chill pill.
"What bottle...? OH, oh THAT bottle! Mmmm... nah, I'm pretty sure I drank'em all, like believe it or not I was still drinking when I got home," she'd say casually. "Yo those Car Bombs were off the hook though, am I right? Like you wouldn't think they'd be as good as they are for being Guiness and whiskey but I mean it totally works." Like, Irish Car Bombs were so good, dude. Her parents would kill her if they found out she drank them. She'd have to bring it up at some point just to watch them blow their stack.
"Hey, c'mon! There's more stuff over here, free's free, right?"

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Revenant could only despair as he witnessed the sheer enthusiasm with which Wicked was taking to looting the place. Not to say he had any problems with what she was doing, but he didn't even dare to wonder what she thought she'd find here. Or...just what she was after in general. It was sure to be mad, excessive, or just overall unrealistic in the circumstances.
...unrealistic. Hah! They were looting a fucking treasure chest after diving through a TV. And it was only going to be crazier.
Still, Unison be damned, there had to be some sense to this! They weren't going to leave the good stuff lying around in a glorified box for terrorists like them to snatch up. They were going to be fucking using it themselves.
Seriously! This wasn't even a question of what was possible - this was just a question of how stupid you were if you didn't do that.

As he's drawn from his internal monologue by Wicked's inevitable disappointment, he musters up the most intense 'are you serious right now' look that he could make permeable through a helmet. "Wicked, we got rusted flutes. Rusted. Flutes. Just their very presence raises a great many questions, and I am not quite sure I desire the answers."

Revenant winced as Wicked seemed to misunderstand what he'd said. He might have been more blunt another time, but he didn't get the feeling advertising to everyone else that she'd gotten a bottle of pills that nobody else had gotten was a good idea. Especially if the strange and disconcerting nature of her Persona got called attention to. It was something that they really could probably do with being aware of...but having that conversation now did not feel like a good idea in the slightest to him.
Just...had to go along with it.
"You weren't given that, and you know that well. That one was...a gift to yourself." He sighs. "I don't know why I am surprised you were still drinking at that point, but here I am."
...ah. The Irish Car Bombs. "...I cannot deny that. I certainly wouldn't be opposed to more." Though...not on the scale she opted for.

He needed to try again. Ah..."In any case...not any of those bottles. I mean the one you received when we first encountered each other...before the Irish Car Bombs." He pauses. "It just appears to me that something you'd find undesirable is happening right now. This may be what it was meant to help alleviate."
He shoots a brief, subtle glance to the red mark...as best he can with the helmet obscuring his face.

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