For the Angels and Demons, to find the perpetrator.

A few hours later; After much rest and redress, the angels find themselves on the road once again. Though not as fast as they would like since Seethrough was still out of commission, still stuck as a tricycle for now. Instead, they borrowed some rando’s topless pickup truck that would do the trick in the meantime. In their defense, the guy was soliciting them anyway, so it was only an appropriate exchange for their “services” in the back of it for a half-hour.

Panty grumbled as she drove down the street, mainly to herself, complaining that the bastard could be anywhere, and that if she found him she’d make that ghost double-dead for messing with her car. She’s been at this point for a while, still mad that she was publicly humiliated like that. Sure, she’s not normally one to care about public indecency, but to make a fool of her with whatever power they might have is bothersome, especially with her vehicle still affected as it was.

Her sister lying in the pickup bed scrolling through her laptop would probably complain that the guy didn’t do any kinky bondage shit or whatever.

And Panty just knows it was a guy, too, more specifically that skinny bastard that got away from them, it has to be, it was way too suspicious on how he just vanished out of nowhere and these things suddenly just happened to them not even ten minutes later.

“Seems like Geekboy got something.” Stocking said, hopping into the front seat with the laptop, “Sent a link to a Paparazzi site, said they got wind of some unknown guy taking the Original Virtue penthouse.”

She scrolled down the page a little before continuing, nodding that it was indeed their target, “They thought it was some celebrity since not even billionaires can buy it, and instead it’s a honeytrap as a gambling reward. The celebrity stalkers pitched up some shots from the nearby rooftops to catch a glimpse of who it could be, but they gave up when they saw it was some nobody, probably there to clean the place or something. This nobody seem familiar?”

Stocking turned the laptop towards the blonde, who glanced at the high quality photos on the celebrity news site that their friend Brief had linked to.

And there he was, the skinny prick that gave them a wild goose chase, though now looking even more like a smug punchable prick, especially right now.

“That’s a good-ass find, now to get to that casino and smack him in his fucking face!” She exclaimed, stepping on the gas and flooring it in that direction, plowing through the late night streets at high speeds.

Just their luck, they get ****, and get the bounty all in one room.

–––

Stiletto huffed, now in the corridor after the party died down. Seems whatever spell they were under was only scheduled to end when the festivities did. She released her grip on the hidden lever behind one of the walls, both Kneesocks and Scanty in various states of undress also letting go of the hall doors after hearing a resonant click of the locks. Stiletto scowled down at the pinkish toylike creature standing before her.

“You there, make sure that nobody remembers what just happened tonight after the Styx’s Amnesia Mists has done its work.” She looked over at the Demon Sisters, who were struggling back on their uniforms that they dragged out of the room with them. “Oh yeah, and make sure to slaughter the waitstaff before they wake up, we need a new supply of spirit material anyway, and as a result of them taking this opportunity to disappoint me, a new rotation of help is in order.”

The being below her normally addressed as Fastener saluted with one of its mandibles, letting out a hissing sound as confirmation, then zipped off in a blur and leaving the three alone to walk back to the office.

Stiletto let the two subordinates grumble and moan their grievances as they headed back, finally getting their clothes into place to look decent. After all, they had it worse in that arrangement, as she only needed to dance like some drunken floozy with a major in dance, they had to do various “personal orders” from a made up perverted menu for the staff.

“A disaster! This isn’t supposed to be how it was supposed to go!” Cries Kneesocks, redoing her hair back into its original ponytail, “Obviously something supernatural had disrupted all my carefully laid out plans!”

“You mean our plans, dear sister,” Remarked Scanty in an annoyed tone, rebuttoning up her top, “You arranged the invitations and supplies, I dealt with the catering and staff. I swear, everything was up to standard the moment we went to wait for our new boss, so it has to be as you said!”

Kneesocks pulled out her phone from her suit jackets’ pocket and typed away, letting Scanty ramble while Stiletto thought. After a few seconds, Kneesocks clicks her tongue and puts it away. “Spiritual activity in the building is all at regular levels, so there weren't any rogue ghosts, though it does not discount remote influence. And unless the angels started being more active in their **** against us; and I highly doubt this, then I would assume it’s some power we’re unfamiliar with. If it is those feathered freaks, then I’ll need to run some tests for holy influence on the waitstaff body parts and the guests.”

Stiletto raised a casual hand up, a gesture of giving Kneesocks the okay to do so. Though the actual look on Stiletto’s face suggests a deeper concern, like she is reaching deep in her memory, but just can’t quite place it. Something about a guy named…Trench, was it? It’s been too long, it’s just not clicking.

Scanty spoke up from the silence after Kneesocks wandered off for the preparation, “Well, uh…I suppose I should check the security feeds of nearby buildings. No doubt that somebody must have been watching to get their enjoyment out of this, so either I might find their handiwork in meddling with our security cameras, or they were within window view.”

Again, Stiletto dismissively waves her off, and Scanty shuffled over to the security room, looking back at her new boss who was lost in thought and wondered what was going on with her.

The moment Stiletto made her way to the privacy of the office, she remembered, slapping the desk in realization.

“Gabardine! That was it!” She exclaimed, “Did he already beat me to the stone? Can’t be, messing with a party isn’t his style…”

Flipping open her red and black phone from her belt, she dialed up the two subordinates that were away at the moment.

“Yeah, it’s me, keep doing what you’re doing. Just letting you know that I’m heading out, an urgent situation has occurred and I need you two to keep watch on the building.” She said as she strolled out, making her way to the car park.

–––

PJs was quite surprised at hearing the name again, especially coming from her. Gabardine. The cloaked ghost fellow that he ran into just hours ago and almost second-killed him.

She also mentioned something about a stone? Could it be she was talking about the one that was cooling down in his chest right now? What exactly is this thing? Who are these two really?

“I wish…” He started, wondering if he could just wish that he knew the answers to any of these questions, but not knowing what to start with first left the wish diminished in his throat, barred by choice paralysis.

Though he supposes it doesn’t really matter too much, so long as he keeps his new power, of course. This was the big break he needed, and will not surrender it by any means. At the very least, he only has one potential candidate of even possibly going after him. And right now, she was headed towards a limo.

Though before he could wish for something hindering, he heard a ding come from inside the corridor of the penthouse. Of course, despite this place being new to him, he could easily tell it was someone who made their way up via the elevators, especially with the sound of the doors opening.

PJs was nervous now. Had they managed to trick him and get to him early? Perhaps it was those angels out for **** somehow. Or maybe it’s just some kind of staff that comes with the place. PJs is begging for it to be the latter as he gets up and out of the sofa pit and rush up the stairs to the overhanging balcony level and into the kitchen.

No sooner did he make it to the kitchen counter did his instinct prove itself right.

“Alright fucker! Freeze!” Yelled out the voice of an angel, the sound of a gun making a *chhk* noise as it cocked.

PJs was in trouble now, somehow the angels found out where he currently is, and are onto him, just like he feared. Now he’s stuck with nowhere to go, as all potential cover from this angle would be the kitchen counter, and the only escape routes are being blocked by the angels in the doorway, or somehow leaping off the building from the balcony, hoping that he won’t be too scared and actually make a wish on time before becoming an inky smear on the concrete.

“Tch, bastard’s probably hiding upstairs. Wait by the door, I’ll scope him out.” He heard the blonde one mutter. Damn, that means he couldn’t wait for an opening to get to the elevator. Now he’s really stuck, both with gothtana by the entrance and goldiglocks probably going to take a shot the moment he even whispers the letter I.

PJs could hear the light steps of heels on carpet coming up the stairs as he steadied his not-breathing, before realizing that he could just stop trying to hold his breath since he couldn’t benefit from doing so anyway. Still, the fear remained as the carpet steps turned into clacks upon the kitchen tile.

Clack.

Clack.

Clack.

PJs was bursting with anxiety as the sound rounded the corner, almost making it to the counter. He really wanted to see her position so he could probably find a way around her.

No sooner had he said that did he hear the sound of static coming up from the bottom level.

“The fuck was that?” He heard from both just near his hiding place and from downstairs in a weirdly timed echo.

The TV!

He was still able to control the TV to switch! Maybe it’ll give him enough of a diversion!

Willing up the want to see Stocking and Panty as if indecisive, the TV was making rapid static noises, and that seemed to be just the ticket he needed as he glanced briefly to see Panty flinging herself over the glass railing of the upper level to get to the bottom floor quickly, and letting off a couple rounds towards the TV.

No doubt the poor device was now broken, but at least he had a few seconds to speak a wish!

“I wish I was somewhere where angels aren’t welcome!” And with the warming feeling in his chest surging forth once again, he vanished in a twinkle of green light, leaving only the bullet holes shooting through the floor JUST barely avoiding the shot.

The angel downstairs not hearing the typical explosion of a ghost merely yelled “Fucking shit!” as she ran up to see if the bastard was still somewhere in the place, not hearing the whispered wish clearly.

–––

Elsewhere, in the corner of an abandoned mall, tucked away behind a closed back room of an old pawn shop, the sound of a train echoes through the dusty aisles, its toot a pleasant chime to all that hear it, as the pearly exterior of the transport struck its way from one wall to the other through majestic golden gates embedded in the walls.

No sooner had this train appeared than it had left, the gates closing and vanishing, leaving the room once again in dank dusty darkness. Although the train did not cease its movement, it left behind something darker than the shadows of the room itself, until it stood upright and opened its eye.

Gabardine took one of his hands and fiddled with the front of his coat, extracting out what looked like a checkbook. Opening the cover, what looked to be a white slip of paper with a glowing blue aura flitted out, and puffed in a gout of blue flame before rendering itself destroyed.

“Damn…I haven’t got many of these Plane Tickets left…Gotta make them count.” He grumbled to himself, stowing the ticket book back into his coat.

Gabardine tugged at his collar with gusto, refocusing. Back to business.

His thoughts are currently pondering on where the stone could’ve ended up, perusing his memories of the event and estimating what could’ve happened from there. If someone had no idea what it was, then the stone would be lying on the ground still, maybe kicked into a corner at best.

Perhaps the angels had nabbed it first? No, that would be unlikely. Celestial beings are trained to recognize such things on-sight in order to retrieve it and return it to Heaven, “Where it belongs,” and such a thing would’ve been announced while he was there if such a thing occurred.

The ghost, perhaps? No, probably not. Weedy stick of a spirit like that would probably not be able to put two and two together from the clues he admittedly was far too cocky to hint towards. No, no doubt the guy is also in the waiting line up top as the angels would have riddled him with holes as well.

Then perhaps the angels chased that ghost out of the alley and away from the stone. Which can only mean that…

“Stiletto…” Gabardine realized. The Helltrain just passed Heavenshuttle, which means that they must have dropped off a Demon onto Earth nearby at some point. And that would likely mean that she is about to beat him to the punch.

…Perhaps there was still time.

Gabardine bursts out of the back exit of the building, rushing towards the spot that he knows might still contain the stone of his desires. The coattails of his coat unravel, and the thread formed winds up to the roof of the alley. With a tug, he is sent flying upwards at a rapid rate, before he shakes the string to reposition it once he reaches the edge, flinging himself forwards in a burst of speed.

He continues zipping from rooftop to rooftop in a rush of speed, like he was some kind of nocturnal flying mammal or humanoid arachnid. All the while hoping that he makes it on time.

“Damn if I’m letting that high-heeled harlot get the stone before I can even get my first wish!” He furiously declared as he became a blur in the sky, not noticing the limo that was heading in the same direction below him at a similar pace, knocking cars and trucks off the road as if they were mere bowling pins to the world's longest bowling ball.