"Step Into My Parlour", said the Spider to The Fly

[jla_villains]

Everything is proceeding apace

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[messrs_c_and_v]

"I said, stop kicking me in the backs of the legs, you wretched oaf!" Mr. Croup shuffles along as fast as his small legs will carry him, which is pretty damn fast, but Mr. Vandemar behind him has a far lengthier stride.

"Neron prefers a smart, tidy appearance. You could call him critical, fastidious, punctilious or even, dare I say it, fussbudgety, so do stop connecting your mucky boots with the backs of my trouser legs, Mr. V!"

[messrs_c_and_v]

"Sometimes, Mr. C, I have no idea what you're saying." Mr. Vandemar tries to slow his stride, but it only succeeds in making him lose his footing on the slippery cobbles. He slips, is about to fall, and then shifts through time and space, appearing several feet back down the corridor firmly on his feet.

He hurries to catch up with his colleague, and as they enter Neron's chamber he tips his head briefly before going straight to the long food table.

[messrs_c_and_v]

"Ah, our esteemed employer. You find us in harried circumstance, alas." Mr. Croup makes a bow as deep as his stomach will allow, before righting himself. "We have been pursued on foot by artists of the martial variety."

[messrs_c_and_v]

Mouth half full, Vandemar nods. "Not Van Gogh."

[messrs_c_and_v]

"Indeed. We had to travel via this method so that they would not lose our trail, although I would not have put it past these sorts to somehow find a mystical method of following, tracking, and dare I say, stalking us to Gotham Below. They are sometimes allied with that frightful fool, buffoon, dimwit and cretin, John Constantine. Despite his demeanor, he is not without magical prowess." Croup finally shuts up, and wriggling his fingers, also makes his way to the food table.

[urgeoftheflesh]

"Yes..." Watching his associates gorge themselves upon the rancid offerings of his food tabel awakens Neron's own immortal hunger, and he raises his glass to them in a toast.

"Your job is almost done, gentlemen." Neron is aware of the pun, Croup and Vandemar being almost as far from human as he himself is. "Avail yourselves to the offerings of my banquet while we wait for our straggling guests to join us."

The invitation is clearly a devilish mockery of courtesy. The Old Firm certainly didn't wait for permission. Nor does Neron.

[messrs_c_and_v]

"I feel I must make you aware, Neron, that these mortals are not some run-of-the-mill pissants who will easily be fought nor manipulated." Mr. Croup snuffles an entire horned rat into his maw. And he is far from referring to Neron as 'sir', given his own levels of power.

"No doubt they are no match for you, on a fair, equal, pax or dare I say it, balanced playing field. Even less likely is it that they stand a hope in all the hells that they could defeat you in your own chambers. However-" Mr. C has a gulp of something crimson and syrupy, "- I feel it my duty to at least say that they are not to be trifled with."

[messrs_c_and_v]

"There's trifle?" Mr. Vandemar stabs a wriggling stoat that tries to escape the table, and eases it into his mouth.

[messrs_c_and_v]

"Later, my colleague. Later." Croup smiles, and goes on eating.

[zauriel1971]

A lone demon had been monitoring this meeting, silent, in the shadows. "Your day will soon be at an end Neron..." he thinks to himself. He smiles knowing his colleague is in the process of freeing Asmodel! "Once Asmodel bonds with the Spectre again - you're on his hit list!" he thinks and smiles to himself.

Meanwhile, in an obscure location in hell, his colleague is doing just what he was thinking about...
(see Asmodel's Revenge http://community.livejournal.com/jla_watchtower/1438615.html story thread to see what happens)