It’s The End of the World as We Know It

[redlightgreenlight]

Who: Tiamat(Valdis), Clarke, The Captain and Skulduggery
What: The Beginning of the End Part 2
When: February
Where: The Bridge at Dawn
Warnings: Potential violence



After all that, waiting until dawn seems like little consequence. But wait she does, though she can’t help but send a little taunt to a particular party before making her way up to the bridge. The sun rises just over the edge of the water, the stars beginning to fade from view. She can sense Clarke not far behind, and the Skeleton must be here somewhere, though maybe they will get lucky and he’s elsewhere. Tiamat leans against the railing to look out over the realm a scared little child created, musing over the various outcomes of what is about to happen. Even if the Captain knows who she is, he’d entertained her before, there’s no reason to suspect he won’t now.

“Oh, Captain,” she says, still watching the sun come up. “Care to watch the sunrise with me?”

Comments

[not_the_last]

"Is it only Tradeliners you would be willing to negotiate with, then? There are other civilizations represented here."

[sailmods]

The deal was with a Tradeliner, and now there aren't any at all, so that rather smooths out some wrinkles.

[not_the_last]

"I don't believe any deal was ever formalized."

Fever, she thinks silently, desperately, I think it's clear now --

"You made an offer, and someone here appears to have taken you up on it --"

[sailmods]

And I'm sure that Tradeliner girl truly thanks you, from the bottom of whatever astral hell she's fallen into.

[abhorrently]

From Malin's other direction, to force her to split her attention, a voice like a steel tipped lash, walking closer and closer. No weapons in her hands, only a blood-bright light in her eyes.

"If you're willing to abandon all pretense of fair deals, then we have no real reason to not treat you and your ship as the hostile invaders you are. So tell me, Malin, are you flesh and blood? Because if so, then I'm sure you understand the concept of being outnumbered."

She'll only stop within arms' length of them both, tone softening into something deadly sincere.

"I think your other eye might be my memento. Assuming it stays intact."

[sailmods]

Hm? Oh, mostly!

[she lifts the eyepatch.

instead of any sort of eye socket, there is a purple miasma, that immediately begins to spread beyond her, tendrils lazily inching towards Fever's directions.]

Partly other things.

[prince_of_beasts]

[ There's been a dim ringing in Dimitri's ears since that freighter appeared, and it's only grown louder since the gangplank descended.

He catches the look in Fever's eye. From the other side of the crowd, he begins circling behind Malin. ]

[abhorrently]

[there's a flicker in her eye when she can meet Dimitri's - the sort that says be careful when she sees the miasma grow, start to spread. every part of her magic is screaming, cautioning, but she keeps the same restrained smile on, bringing her hands together in a little clap that could be mocking or just theatre.]

Oh, now that's a lovely piece of work. Not as pretty as the other will look detached from your skull, but very nice indeed. Makes me so curious what else you went and replaced.

[and there's a strong thought in her head - a prayer, with all the weight it holds as an appeal to a god.

Sheogorath. Something's wrong with her eye. Help us.

stepping back, she's almost lazy about it. structured carelessness, thinking about what Cassandra asked of her, easy as inviting the woman to dinner.]

You seem a rare sort. It'll be such a pleasure to see you die.

[blindwatchersees]

Sheogorath doesn't waste time being subtle. He appears with a thunderclap and a burst of butterflies and a smell like a half-forgotten memory, dressed to the nines in the Madgod's finery.

"Well, what here we have?" He glances woman and raptor up and down, indigo eyes luminous and sharply focused.

[sailmods]

[glances at for merely half a second before replacing her eyepatch and going back to looking at other things.]

[blindwatchersees]

"Now, now, don't be rude! You can't just go flashing about a cloud of concentrated me and then act like nothing happened. Actually, you can. You can do that quite easily! But that wouldn't be the more interesting thing, would it? And you like interesting, don't you? That jaunty little bird and that delightful taste in fashion, I can tell it from a mile away." He taps his cane against the floor- the bright blue eye topping it swivels in place to look at Malin, unblinking.

[sailmods]

[HBO's got a lot of trashy shoooooows....]

[blindwatchersees]

He's caught between his somewhat childish need to have attention, his cat-like curiosity, and his determination to not let whatever this is best him. He's piecing together what he can about the situation from the look of the room, the thoughts Fever is readily feeding him, and the facts he's picked up in the passing days, but ultimately, this woman is an enigma. So while he'd like to immediately throw everything into chaos, he settles into watching Malin move, trying to gauge if there's a way to subtly worm into, or out of, her head, every so often tapping the floor again with his cane as if he's keeping time to a very, very slow song. Though he does look back at Fever for a moment, as if to say "what's with this lady?"

[abhorrently]

Clarke used the string.

The words are a thrown lance out of her mind, and he'll know exactly what it means. He knows what that string was, what it was said to do. That this Malin is the mysterious collector, the friend addressed in that letter. The one that Fever had been very clear that she'd kill if given a good opportunity.

Instead of going further into it, she circles back around, thinking furiously. There's no way forward if they keep to anger, much as she wants the woman's internal organs arranged around her corpse. Think, think. She gives Sheogorath everything that had happened beforehand, her conversations with Cassandra and then with Fever herself.

We need her to negotiate. But with Tayrey gone, she doesn't want to honor that. And the Captain is bound to her now.

Out loud, instead, she laughs a little, as if it was an amusing pun, and her voice has never lost an inch of viciousness.

"Truly, dear intruder, the least you can do is look at him. If you didn't want such attentions, you should have stayed on your own vessel. Or not have flaunted your own skills so to draw his notice. I promise, he's got more patience than I do." A click of the tongue. "Do you want her eye as an offering, my Lord?"

Pretend you can tell me what to do.

[blindwatchersees]

"Perhaps," he purrs. "But why rush to pluckings and gougings when we could make a lovely little tea party out of all of this? What do you think, my dear?" He addresses Malin.

"A little guided sampling of the curios and collections aboard the ship would be far more entertaining than this bit of personal perusal you're doing. Why, the cheese alone could last us hours." After all, he's a Daedra, and Daedra are good at dealings. He may not be in a position to make any kind of claim, but he can certainly buy time. It's just a matter of this woman taking the bait.

[sailmods]

[elevator music.]

[ss_buttcrack]

[Wow. He really hates that he was right about how all of this was gonna go. Just once he'd love to be proven wrong on this crap.

Frell it. If this is how he dies at least he's going out in one last blaze of questionable glory.]

Yo! Malin, was it?

[He comes striding up confidently with his hand held out as if for a handshake. Though, if she accepts it he will do the wrist-brace style of handshake Ari taught him for Tradeliners.]

Peace and Prosperity. Commander John Crichton. I was Lieutenant Tayrey's second in command. Due to her untimely disappearance, I'm acting Commander and that means I'm the Tradeliner you're here to negotiate with.

[sailmods]

... [an amused look]

Alright. I'm listening. Which of these specimens would you, personally, wish to depart here today with? I'm open to three for certain, though I can be convinced.

[ss_buttcrack]

[Specimens?! Fuck this bitch.]

That's your best offer? Come on? You're practically trying to walk in here and take the whole pie for free.

Here's my counter-offer. You let every trapped soul in here walk free and you can keep the ship an' its captain, and I'll throw in my special knowledge of wormholes on top.

[sailmods]

Oh, I had assumed you'd be putting forward serious offers. My mistake.

[ss_buttcrack]

I'm dead serious. Hell, you can keep me in the museum too, but you let the rest of them go.

But if you aren't serious about negotiating, here, then get that string off our jinn and turn your ship around.

[sailmods]

... [she. laughs.

and keeps laughing.]

[ss_buttcrack]

Oh, I'm a joke to you, huh?

[He jerks his pulse pistol out of his holster and attempts to blast her away with it.]

[Not here, peanut gallery]

[saltwaterlungs]

[ Dripping with sarcasm, from where she's still sitting, ]

Oh yeah, this is going to be the projectile that works and won't be immediately reflected back at you, you get her, ass guy.

[sailmods]

Hm. That's quite enough of that, I think.

[and, in a moment, everything

freezes.

the imperceptible shock of reality shifting in its lumbering slumber.

and every single passenger in the realm loses consciousness.

when the prisoners awake, it's in their cells.]