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Moment of Awesome - Clea: In Roma's fake dimension, Clea, protegee of the Hellfire Club's Black Knight is assigned the task of typing up a loose end. The door went flying off the hinges as a familiar white haired woman walked in, dressed in black. "Knock knock." She was having fun, knocking down doors lately. Her hands were already casting another spell as she sealed shut other exits. "I've come for you. You have been a very naughty boy." "Shit." Doug scrambled backward from the desk he was sitting at, pulling a holdout knife from behind his back and keeping it low and out of sight. "What, mad that I turned you down?" he asked sharply. "I have a policy of not sticking my dick in crazy." Clea looked at him for a moment, and gave him a once over again. "You are too young for me anyways. Personally, I have no issues with you but you pissed off the wrong person and they don't like that very much." Clea's purple magic pulled the desk off the floor and sent it crashing against a nearby wall. "Now, do you want to do this the hard way or the easy way?" Too young. That would explain the odd body language tics he'd half-noticed in their previous meeting. Of course his own smartassery would come back to bite him. "I think we both know the answer to that," Doug replied, his tone lulling and reasonable. She had the advantage on him at range, after all. "If I wanted the easy way I would have just slept with you instead of mouthing off." Clea smirked before her expression turned dark and the purple energy swirled around, "I learned this one from one Doctor Strange." Whatever she was doing, once she let it loose it would likely be too late for him. So Doug took a lunge, the knife between his fingers aimed to slice Clea open from hip to shoulder. The knife dug deep from the hip and the image in front flickered before the giggles filled the air. "By the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak." Another voice behind him said loudly. The red ribbon shot out from the darkness to wrap itself around Cypher. Shit. Shitshitshit. He'd seen through her illusions before, and it had made him too damn cocky. He lunged against the pulsing red energy tightening in on him, and grunted in pain as the mystic prison cut into him. The real Clea emerged from behind, a hand on his shoulder. "Really, nothing personal." She bopped him on the nose. "Maybe I'll see you in the next life, Cypher." She turned away from him before raising a hand out to her side and closing her fist tightly as she controlled the pressure of the bands as they continued to dig deep. At least she wasn't going to try and torture information out of him, was Doug's oddly relieved realization before Clea closed her hand. The other members of the little network he'd been building would be safe. ~Sorry-~ was his last thought, and then oblivion.