"Slayer." Warren hopped onto the hood of a car next to Buffy and grinned. Both were watching the soccer game at Sunnydale Middle Parking Lot, though Warren had shown less interest in the game than he had in the activities of the other onlookers. Which, by phasing out of view, he could indulge to his hearts content. "Got a winner picked out?"
Buffy snorted. "The Boys from Brazil. They got the locals beat six ways from Sunday."
"Bolivians actually, and they got a point spread that'll make your nose bleed. Wouldn't be a contest if they were actually interested in Soccer. See that bunch over there?" Warren pointed out a cluster of aged Bolivian men and two women standing by the Bolivian goal. "They've been checking out the locals, and I doubt they'll recruit any. Least not for soccer."
"You mean?"
Warren rolled his eyes. "Come on Slayer. You're smarter than that. You think a bunch of pros came all the way here to Sunnydale so.'s they could let a bunch of locals beat them at their game? They just don't want the locals to get too badly scared that they'd not stick around for the after game festivities."
"Then we have to..." Buffy tensed but stopped when Warren got in front of her.
"Look Slayer, we got to stop them sure, but we do it now we break up the game and no later festivities. Being an ex-crime lord, I learned one thing. Don't get caught if you can at all help it. Sometimes you can't and those're the breaks. We move now and we bust up the game but that's all we bust up, and they get to play another night. one that's not so convenient for us."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "I suppose you got a plan?"
"Yes Slayer I do. Now we both know that they won't do anything here. My guess is they'll invite the losers to a party, and take them somewhere for sacrificial offerings. I'm gonna be on that bus when it leaves, and you are going for the cavalry. I suggest you start with Willow. She's with death-boy and we got this mind to mind thing going, which you all don't get to share, and I can tell you where to go. So go."
Warren grinned as he watched the Slayer disappear down the street. "I love it when a plan comes together, he whispered turning back to the game which was in its last few seconds.
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"Strange setting for a party." Johnny Welkmer took a fruit from a tray a girl held out to him and bit deep, letting the juices dribble down his chin. He was tired, he was happy, and sure they had lost but the winning team had invited them all to a party where there were girls in short dresses, at least he thought that was what they were, but short anyway, and wasn't that all that mattered. "Not that I'm complaining,: he said to the teammate beside him.
"What do you think they are doing now?" Johnny watched with interest as the winning team entered the room. This time, they were naked, except for weird looking loin cloths, and feathered headdresses. He watched as they escorted the elderly members, well he though they were members, probably chaperones, but he watched as they were escorted to a sort of raised platform, where three chairs had been placed. One higher than the others. The oldest man took that seat, and he was wearing a mask that Johnny thought was the scariest looking thing he had ever seen. Made him look like some sort of devil, but everyone knew that there was no such thing. He took a look to see the doors closed, the girls gone, and two roaring fires built on each end of the room. He wondered why he never noticed them before. "You think they,re into something weird?"
"Dunno man," his neighbour nodded at the stage. "But I'm guessing we're about to find out."
"Warriors," thundered the Bolivian team captain. "I thank you for coming. We thank you for coming. If the world knew why you were here tonight, what you do tonight, the world would thank you too. Thank you for purchasing them more time. Time that alas, you will have not."
Warren watched all this from the back, where he wouldn't be seen, if anyone could see him that is. He had watched as the fires were lit, the girls were filed out, and the rest of the Bolivian team had come in, taking up positions with odd looking round wooden clubs. He remembered broken bones, and crushed skulls from police photos.
The music changed from loud rock, to the muted beating of drums, throbbing, relaxing. Well, relaxing the humans anyway, not him. He had important work to do. Like saving their worthless lives, and he didn't have much time to do it in. In fact, if the scoobs weren't here pronto, and he'd told Willow where they were, he doubted he could save many of them. He sidled up near one of the Bolivians, who was raising his club, waiting for the order to strike. He took a deep breath.
And flashed into sight, giving the Warrior the full benefit of what Willow was barely getting used to, and just as quickly flashed out of sight again. "Booga Booga," he screamed audibly, grabbing the club out of the warrior's petrified hands, swinging it about, and bringing it down hard on the poor chap's legs. He went down like a sack of potatoes. "Booga Booga," he yelled again, shot putting the club at another warrior, just grazing his shoulder, but causing him to drop his own club.
"Hey, what is this," somebody yelled. "You get away from me." Off in one corner, a scared local shoved a warrior, who was so surprised he went over easily.
Unfortunately by now the room was a chaos. The elderly Priest shouted for order, and Warren skirted the crowd going his way. On the way there he caught a descending club, and allowed his head to become visible, with one eyebrow raised. "I don't think you wanna do that." A leg became solid much to the warrior's sorrow.
Warren reached the stage just as the door exploded inward and the Scoobies entered, led by a determined Slayer, and a concerned witch. An arm solidified, he gave them the thumbs up, and desolidified it barely in time to avoid being smashed by a wild swing of a warrior's club. He paused to smile, thinking finally, someone was taking him seriously for a change.
The Priest, for that was what Warren had decided he was, sagged back into his chair, his masked head wavering and swinging, as the man inside looked wildly around. Warren grabbed the mask and pulled it off the man, who's hair was ever which way over scared rabbit eyes, but this time they had something to focus on, as did everybody else. That is it would if they hadn't been busy fighting each others and the scoobies. Who had drawn the Bolivians away from the locals, who were, fortunately, relatively unhurt, though Warren could see some broken limbs from where he stood.
He put the mask on over his head, and caused his eyes to burn through the holes.
"STOP!," he shouted as loudly as he could, ignoring the soft thud as the Priest fell to the floor. "No more."
It had the desired effect as every eye in the place turned towards him. A hand floated up from under the mask and pointed at the local boys, who had clustered together for support. "Way past your bedtime kiddies. Those of you don't need hospital care can go now, or wait over there in that corner while we sort out the rest. Oh, and somebody go call the police. They're in the book."
The mask swiveled as Warren faced the Warriors, or the ones who still had a little bit of fight left in them. The mask executed a perfect bow. "We thank you for your services, but they are no longer needed."
"Great One," the Warrir he had got in the shoulder came forward and fell to one knee. "We only sought to help. To give you power needed to stave off the evil ones."
Warren goggled at him.
"You have given us nothing," he thundered, putting as much rage in his voice as he could. "You have transgressed against the purity of our ways. Taken that which was not given, from those who did not know. Our ways, where both victor and vanquished know their places. For your penance, you will cease your struggle and go with the authorities of this land. Mayhaps they will be merciful."
It worked. Warren watched, through the mask as the remaining Warriors dropped their clubs and clustered around their captain. He waited until the sound of approaching sirens was just outside, before disappearing the mask and slipping outside.
Buffy snorted. "The Boys from Brazil. They got the locals beat six ways from Sunday."
"Bolivians actually, and they got a point spread that'll make your nose bleed. Wouldn't be a contest if they were actually interested in Soccer. See that bunch over there?" Warren pointed out a cluster of aged Bolivian men and two women standing by the Bolivian goal. "They've been checking out the locals, and I doubt they'll recruit any. Least not for soccer."
"You mean?"
Warren rolled his eyes. "Come on Slayer. You're smarter than that. You think a bunch of pros came all the way here to Sunnydale so.'s they could let a bunch of locals beat them at their game? They just don't want the locals to get too badly scared that they'd not stick around for the after game festivities."
"Then we have to..." Buffy tensed but stopped when Warren got in front of her.
"Look Slayer, we got to stop them sure, but we do it now we break up the game and no later festivities. Being an ex-crime lord, I learned one thing. Don't get caught if you can at all help it. Sometimes you can't and those're the breaks. We move now and we bust up the game but that's all we bust up, and they get to play another night. one that's not so convenient for us."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "I suppose you got a plan?"
"Yes Slayer I do. Now we both know that they won't do anything here. My guess is they'll invite the losers to a party, and take them somewhere for sacrificial offerings. I'm gonna be on that bus when it leaves, and you are going for the cavalry. I suggest you start with Willow. She's with death-boy and we got this mind to mind thing going, which you all don't get to share, and I can tell you where to go. So go."
Warren grinned as he watched the Slayer disappear down the street. "I love it when a plan comes together, he whispered turning back to the game which was in its last few seconds.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Strange setting for a party." Johnny Welkmer took a fruit from a tray a girl held out to him and bit deep, letting the juices dribble down his chin. He was tired, he was happy, and sure they had lost but the winning team had invited them all to a party where there were girls in short dresses, at least he thought that was what they were, but short anyway, and wasn't that all that mattered. "Not that I'm complaining,: he said to the teammate beside him.
"What do you think they are doing now?" Johnny watched with interest as the winning team entered the room. This time, they were naked, except for weird looking loin cloths, and feathered headdresses. He watched as they escorted the elderly members, well he though they were members, probably chaperones, but he watched as they were escorted to a sort of raised platform, where three chairs had been placed. One higher than the others. The oldest man took that seat, and he was wearing a mask that Johnny thought was the scariest looking thing he had ever seen. Made him look like some sort of devil, but everyone knew that there was no such thing. He took a look to see the doors closed, the girls gone, and two roaring fires built on each end of the room. He wondered why he never noticed them before. "You think they,re into something weird?"
"Dunno man," his neighbour nodded at the stage. "But I'm guessing we're about to find out."
"Warriors," thundered the Bolivian team captain. "I thank you for coming. We thank you for coming. If the world knew why you were here tonight, what you do tonight, the world would thank you too. Thank you for purchasing them more time. Time that alas, you will have not."
Warren watched all this from the back, where he wouldn't be seen, if anyone could see him that is. He had watched as the fires were lit, the girls were filed out, and the rest of the Bolivian team had come in, taking up positions with odd looking round wooden clubs. He remembered broken bones, and crushed skulls from police photos.
The music changed from loud rock, to the muted beating of drums, throbbing, relaxing. Well, relaxing the humans anyway, not him. He had important work to do. Like saving their worthless lives, and he didn't have much time to do it in. In fact, if the scoobs weren't here pronto, and he'd told Willow where they were, he doubted he could save many of them. He sidled up near one of the Bolivians, who was raising his club, waiting for the order to strike. He took a deep breath.
And flashed into sight, giving the Warrior the full benefit of what Willow was barely getting used to, and just as quickly flashed out of sight again. "Booga Booga," he screamed audibly, grabbing the club out of the warrior's petrified hands, swinging it about, and bringing it down hard on the poor chap's legs. He went down like a sack of potatoes. "Booga Booga," he yelled again, shot putting the club at another warrior, just grazing his shoulder, but causing him to drop his own club.
"Hey, what is this," somebody yelled. "You get away from me." Off in one corner, a scared local shoved a warrior, who was so surprised he went over easily.
Unfortunately by now the room was a chaos. The elderly Priest shouted for order, and Warren skirted the crowd going his way. On the way there he caught a descending club, and allowed his head to become visible, with one eyebrow raised. "I don't think you wanna do that." A leg became solid much to the warrior's sorrow.
Warren reached the stage just as the door exploded inward and the Scoobies entered, led by a determined Slayer, and a concerned witch. An arm solidified, he gave them the thumbs up, and desolidified it barely in time to avoid being smashed by a wild swing of a warrior's club. He paused to smile, thinking finally, someone was taking him seriously for a change.
The Priest, for that was what Warren had decided he was, sagged back into his chair, his masked head wavering and swinging, as the man inside looked wildly around. Warren grabbed the mask and pulled it off the man, who's hair was ever which way over scared rabbit eyes, but this time they had something to focus on, as did everybody else. That is it would if they hadn't been busy fighting each others and the scoobies. Who had drawn the Bolivians away from the locals, who were, fortunately, relatively unhurt, though Warren could see some broken limbs from where he stood.
He put the mask on over his head, and caused his eyes to burn through the holes.
"STOP!," he shouted as loudly as he could, ignoring the soft thud as the Priest fell to the floor. "No more."
It had the desired effect as every eye in the place turned towards him. A hand floated up from under the mask and pointed at the local boys, who had clustered together for support. "Way past your bedtime kiddies. Those of you don't need hospital care can go now, or wait over there in that corner while we sort out the rest. Oh, and somebody go call the police. They're in the book."
The mask swiveled as Warren faced the Warriors, or the ones who still had a little bit of fight left in them. The mask executed a perfect bow. "We thank you for your services, but they are no longer needed."
"Great One," the Warrir he had got in the shoulder came forward and fell to one knee. "We only sought to help. To give you power needed to stave off the evil ones."
Warren goggled at him.
"You have given us nothing," he thundered, putting as much rage in his voice as he could. "You have transgressed against the purity of our ways. Taken that which was not given, from those who did not know. Our ways, where both victor and vanquished know their places. For your penance, you will cease your struggle and go with the authorities of this land. Mayhaps they will be merciful."
It worked. Warren watched, through the mask as the remaining Warriors dropped their clubs and clustered around their captain. He waited until the sound of approaching sirens was just outside, before disappearing the mask and slipping outside.