It's Raining Men Mafia

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Night Two​
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Mother Nature was on a tirade. She would grip her hands around the head of every specimen she came across, and every dazed, handsome face - that wasn't her angel's - that stared back made her grow more disheartened and jaded. Depraved and horny tears streamed down her cheeks as her imagination conjured up images of a life that was quickly turning out to be just that: a machination of her mind. She could almost taste the Piña Coladas she would sip with her man as they got caught in the rain, she imagined them strolling by a yoga class and scoffing at its participants (as everybody with half a brain knew Falug Gong was the new hot sensation), and how every evening they would stay up till midnight in the dunes of the cape to make sweet, passionate, hot, animalistic, nearly murderous s-

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"Hey, what's the big idea?" cried Bardothren, headbutting the woman out of her fantasy. As Mother Nature clutched her head in pain, she noticed she had been kissing a strange girl; mistaking the folds of her poncho as the soft fabric of her beloved's robes.

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"Aw, sweetie, I'm so sorry!" Mother Nature apologized, "I'm trying to find my man."

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"Hmpth," the indignant girl protested, "if he were my man, he wouldn't have run off."

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Mother Nature's eyes bulged and gave Bardothren a nasty look. "You wanna be starting something?" she warned, but the words fell on deaf ears.

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"In fact," the girl continued, "even if he did, I would've just gotten a new man; I'm not some silly old desperate cow like you."

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Witnesses say that they're not sure if Mother Nature specifically shoved Bardothren into the street or if the girl simply tripped backwards as a result of the ensuing catfight, but regardless it was bad timing: Fletch was speeding in their direction, coming from her shotgun wedding. She wasn't looking at the road, finding much to distract her in her husband's lap, and didn't realize the danger until Bardothren became a fresh coat of red paint on the little corvette.

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Shocked by the collision, Fletch immediately shot straight up, only to bang her head and render herself unconscious. All her new beau could do was watch as they veered into a brick apartment building.

Bardothren was one of the Weather Girls.
Fletch was one of the Weather Girls.
It's raining men, hallelujah, this phase will last 24 hours, amen!​
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Salzorrah
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Johnny
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Abby
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Pecilia as a Weather Girl
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Mr Cat Dog
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Bardothren as a Weather Girl
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ChBrCow as a Weather Girl
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Fletch as a Weather Girl
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jdthebud
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Killua
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Pecilia 2
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Aquacorde as a Weather Girl
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Paranoia_
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Aventine
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The angel - who had been christened as Paranoia_ so many eons ago - walked out of the apartment he crash-landed in absolutely distraught. He had tried to resurrect the poor girl he dropped onto the sidewalk by transferring her soul into the body of a fresh corpse, effectively making a Pecilia 2, but she proved that permanent slumber wouldn't humble her lust as she grabbed his wings and accidentally steered the both of them into the fragile body of another poor soul. All the angel wanted was exemption from Mother Nature's horrid abuse of the ecosystem, but destiny demanded he not be able to do so without bloodshed.

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"Woah," piped a raspy, soulful voice. "What happened to you?"

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The angel nearly fell backwards as he suddenly noticed a woman sitting at the top of some nearby stairs. His eyes shot in all directions, looking for some avenue of escape. "Slow down kid, I'm not interested," she cleared her throat and explained, "the birthname's Johnny, but the public knows me as 'Bonnie Tyler.'"

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She scanned the poor fellow up and down. "Seems like you've had a rough night - I don't know if my thing exactly relates all that well since your story seems to involve lots of blood, but - me too. Try releasing a single on the night when the heavens themselves cry out in song."

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The angel nodded solemnly, more agreeing with her point of "my thing doesn't exactly relate" than showing empathy for her career. Johnny revealed the beer she was keeping on the step below her and chugged down a good portion of it. "Anyway, kid," she continued, fluffing up her perm, "my room's right there, here's my key. Borrow a new set of clothes; I'll be performing at the rooftop party in a little bit."

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At that moment an unassuming door burst open with a cacophony of celebration, lead by an enthusiastic holler by an inebriated jdthebud coming out; the tie of some handsome jock firmly grasped in her hand. "You're coming back to - " she started, pausing to let out a belch, "t-to my place, big boy."

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The angel and his companion watched the scene unfold: jdthebud wrestled with a ring of keys she produced from her pocket, slowly making her way towards the stairs Johnny had stood up and backed away from. The girl got so overly excited by the discovery of her house key that she failed to pay enough attention to her footing as she traversed the first step, and consequently fell down and broke her neck. As jdthebud's stud hopelessly rushed to her assistance, Johnny placed a hand on her hip and gave the angel a knowing look.

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Fitting into a crop top was uncomfortable for Paranoia_, but wearing it out to the rooftop party was moreso. Not that anybody was coherent enough to judge, or even fully grasp the beauty of his form: far too many people were Abby-level drunk, Abby herself having pushed her usual limits and was now vomiting her heart out in a potted plant. Which, as the angel came to realize on second glance, wasn't an idiom. The girl coughed up her actual beating heart and collapsed dead.

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"He-ey," a valley girl accent assaulted him. His attention snapped away from the horrific sight to one Mr Cat Dog, trying to appear cute by taking a generous sip of her martini through a curly straw. The angel rolled his eyes, but the nonverbal cue was lost on the woman. "How you doin'?" she prodded.

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"Quickly play a game with me," the angel asked lethargically. The girl was more than happy to oblige and gave out a high-pitched squeal, so the being continued: "how many fingers am I holding up?"

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Mr Cat Dog stared long and hard at the creature, trying every technique at her disposal - tilting her head, squinting, and the like - before coming up with a foolproof answer: "at least one." Triumphant, the girl took another sip of her drink and winked.

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"I'm not holding up any hands," the angel corrected, "I don't have hands. My arms are tentacles, and neither one is being held up."

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The screech of a microphone interrupted the room before the sound of Johnny's voice broke through: "I'd like to perform something special for you gals tonight." The crowd screamed out their one request, which of course was a cover of the song they'd been listening to all day. Irritated, Johnny bit her lip and held back anger. "Well, here it is," she croaked, already feeling the negative feedback.

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"Where have all the good men gone," she began, eyeing Paranoia_ for mental security, "and where are all the gods?" The crowd grew eerily silent. But it was not rage that drove them to this; as Johnny continued with a soulful "where's the streetwise Hercules to fight the rising odds?" they began to tear up. All the women in the crowd were drawn back to their dreams of white knights upon fiery steeds, perfectly illustrated by the song when it spoke "late at night I toss and I turn and I dream of what I need!"

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The crowd became it uproarious self as the chorus came in, but out of admiration for the singer's evocative talent. "I need a hero!" Johnny joyfully belted, "I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the - "

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Instead of the end of that sentence, there was a shotgun blast, the effect of which decimated the entirety of Johnny's head and left its pieces to plop unceremoniously on the stage. Out of their trance, the girls looked up and saw Mother Nature - or as her friends knew her, Aventine - right behind where the singer had been, with a smoking firearm. "Now I know you ladies weren't cheatin' on me, hm?" she interrogated. The crowd, partially out of fear and mostly out of them returning to their primal state, cheered for their queen.

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Baffled by the sudden change of heart and grotesque violence, the angel cried out "you psychopaths!" Aventine's smug self-satisfaction was traded for astonishment, and she immediately silenced the party. Without the sea of bodies guffawing, Mother Nature easily spotted the heavenly light coming from the angel's body. She quietly mouthed the word "you," and Paranoia_'s expression grew wild with realization and terror.

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"Get away from my man!" Mother Nature yelled, conjuring a lightening bolt and striking it against Mr Cat Dog, frying her to a crisp. The action set ablaze the fashionable ornate rugs on the floor, and as the angel made a haphazard escape with a flap of his wings, Mother Nature looked on furiously as flames engulfed the party. It was possible that someone overheard Aventine quietly saying "it's time to unchain Salzorrah," to herself before vanishing, but everyone was on fire, so none of them wouldn't've cared much if they had or hadn't.

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A dedicated man-eater - both in the literal and figurative interpretations of the word - and ruler of the underworld, it didn't take much to convince Salzorrah to use her dark magic in the search for the angel. It was obvious from the start that the salty snail of a woman was secretly planning to steal the being for herself the moment Mother Nature explained her situation, but Aventine didn't care. The two forces of nature watched as black smoke whipped inside a crystal ball.

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"He may be the epitome of masculinity and charm," Salzorrah waxed, "but her isn't clever. Look." She offered the sphere to Aventine, and the goddess watched as the dark cloud dissipated and revealed the tip of a very distinguished-looking skyscraper. Mother Nature gasped as a familiar tune played in her mind.

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"That's Hotel California," she surmised. But Salzorrah had already made her departure and was not available to reply, having already come to that conclusion.

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Lord Salzorrah floated into one of the windows of the top floor and hopped inside. The protests and cries of a post-coital Killua and her mate greeted her, but were easily quieted by some telekinetic strangling. She exited into the hallway and attuned her senses, deducing from the strong holy wavelengths coming from the next door over that she had only been one suite off.

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The ruler of all that was salty gave herself a second of girlish glee before she was going to kick down the door. She took out her compact mirror, making sure to put back any scraggly hairs and touching up the wax job on her horns. There was one oddity she found during this moment, though: she had absolutely no idea when the sword jutting out of her chest had been placed there.

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Aventine took the mirror off Salzorrah's body and covered the blood stains on her cheek with some blush. This wasn't the first time she had to play dirty, she knew how to look good under pressure. A shade of nervousness did find its way into her though, so she took a deep sigh and knocked on the door.

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To her surprise, a robed Who's Kiyo? answered. "Oh hey," he quipped, "what can I do for you, babe?"

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Beyond baffled, Mother Nature found herself stuttering and unable to properly address him, but Kiyo didn't take notice. "Say, thanks for the manstorm earlier. It was divine."

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Aventine couldn't help but push past him and investigate. A small shindig of men in speedos were chatting and enjoying music. Lacking among their numbers was a certain angelic presence that, ironically, felt stronger as she burst into the room.

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"Why don't you sit down and flirt a while," Kiyo suggested, bringing her to a couch where a couple cute lumberjacks loitered, "relax and enjoy yourself. I think you need to get your nerves rubbed out by Goku over here and I need to attend to my gentleman caller in the other room."

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Loosening up a bit, Mother Nature cocked a teasing eyebrow. "Oh?"

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"Yes," Kiyo said with a breath of excitement, "I think I've finally found the Perfect Guy." The weatherman didn't acknowledge Aventine's confused look before he scurried off to his bedroom and gave his friend a wink. "Don't be counting the moments!" he wisecracked.

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When he fully opened the door, Mother Nature locked eyes with his bedmate: one Paranoia_, who at first showed panic but then settled his expression into something confident and spurning as the door closed behind Kiyo. Again, Mother Nature was made mute.

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Aventine found herself humming her favorite song on the balcony as she watched the dying glimmers of the parade. So many lonely hearts warmed into ones that had so much loyalty and passion to give. She briefly smiled, but reminded herself that she would never know the feeling.

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No slap, or bang, or splatter folowed her leap. Mother Nature eviscerated herself on her way down, and simply ceased to exist.

Aventine was Mother Nature.
Paranoia_ has won the game!​
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Salzorrah as a Weather Girl
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Johnny as Bonnie Tyler
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Abby as a Weather Girl
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Pecilia as a Weather Girl
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Mr Cat Dog as a Weather Girl
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Bardothren as a Weather Girl
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ChBrCow as a Weather Girl
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Fletch as a Weather Girl
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jdthebud as a Weather Girl
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Killua as a Weather Girl
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Pecilia 2 as a Weather Girl
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Aquacorde as a Weather Girl
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Paranoia_ as The Perfect Guy
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Aventine as Mother Nature
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Spoiler:
 
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I FUCKING KNEW IT WHDHVRJDYVXRBV
 
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