come_sailaway | monday's child is fair of face (2/2)

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monday's child is fair of face (2/2)

CW: death, probably gore, possibly more TBA

[and that’s what you missed on glee.

and so, there “Friday” is, standing on the roof of the bar. the attention of the party has surely turned to her by this point, but she doesn’t care about that. she just needs one person to still be a little too distracted to stop what was coming next.

Monday snaps her fingers, and Jenny disappears from wherever she was standing before, reappearing directly in front of Monday, who embraces her from behind, an arm wrapped firmly around her middle. those with enhanced senses might catch what she whispers, seconds before she snaps Jenny’s neck so hard it hangs at a 90 degree angle as Monday kicks her, her corpse toppling forward onto the deck below.]

Surprise, bitch.

[well, there. unfinished business settled. onto more pertinent matters.]

Let’s get a little more comfortable first, hm? Can’t waste too much of her magic, but audiences love a quick change.

[she snaps her fingers, and Monday finds herself in an outfit that is far more to her taste. now. time for her grand performance.]

Greetings, foolish mortals! You may or may not have noticed that things have been a little bit different this month. While the Captain is off having a good old bitch cry about whatever it is he’s so upset about, poor little Friday was running herself ragged keeping this shitheap floating! She was so distracted, in fact, that she happened to have a little accident, while fixing something in the elevator shaft! [a laugh] I guess even clay bitches can break their necks! And there I was, sitting in Fucking Nowhere, doing Fucking Nothing, feeling Fucking. Nothing! And I saw her empty shell. And I was, like, hey, free real estate!

Whatever tear in the veil that your whiny little Captain just didn’t feel like fixing? I ripped that fucker right open. And you’ve all met a few of the sorry little fuckers that fell out already, hm? [another snap] Not all of them, but, hey, that’s what now is for, right? Because, see, we all kinda got together a little bit, and we were like… You know, just borrowing some shitty bodies to have some fun for a few weeks? What a waste! And we still have a lot of bitches we need to spring from jail!

And that! Is where you assholes come in! And, trust me, you are all assholes. Have you even seen some of the psychotic shit you people have said and done to us? Like, yeah, Mary is legitimately insane, but she’s still a kid! Even I’m not gonna call a fucking nine year old a bitch!

You can try to run, but I fucking hate running in heels, so I made that a little bit… difficult. So. Why don’t you nice people just lay down and let us kill you. I’ll be gentle. Promise.

[perhaps people have tried to flee already. they likely have. and they’ve found that the entire party area has been blocked off by the same sort of barrier that surrounds the realm, an invisible orb holding them captive.]

Now. Let’s get the actual party started!

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(WAS THAT SO FUCKING HARD?! GOD. anyway, now THAT'S out the way, she is going to shimmer speed run away to other people in case they need help.)

That's all you got? So much for historical drama.

[He doesn't wait for Oda to recover. Instead he flights a chair at him with all the speed and strength Natsuno's arms can muster. And the second the chair is in the air? He's already charging after it, bent on knocking that sword of out Oda's hand and find a place to sink his fangs in.]

"My dear Johnny. You're safe, aren't you? You're still... you?"

It's Watson, of course it's Watson, who else would it be except Watson? He lingers at a careful distance, watching Johnny warily, as though not sure what to expect. He holds himself a little stiffly, as though his old wound is hurting him more than usual, or as though he were somehow unused to it.

"Good God, what's happened? Is that your blood?"

(for a split second, his words reach her in a way that really isn't needed right now. the last she wants is a distraction but her big sister's words ring in her ears crystal clear.

'you can fire that thing if you want but i'm going anywhere. i'm NOT going to abandon you again.'

'i'm sorry, powder. i never meant to leave you.'

with a harsh huff a breath and a shake of her head, jinx forces herself to focus on the now.)

You're not gonna leave him. We're in this crap hell together. — I can't do too much without my weapons but... gimme a description of 'em and I'll bring him to you when I see him. I'm fast so I can scout around.

"John." The name leaves his lips with the reverence of a plea, a prayer. "My love. Of course, I'm still me. And the blood isn't mine. It's Crabb's--or the woman who was inhabiting Crabb's body's. She tried to attack me, but Erin stopped her."

Stopped her, such a polite euphemism. Such an acceptable run through of events, right?

He takes a deep breath, the hand not holding the scissors raking through his hair, slicking it back, rusty streaks along his forehead from the blood.

"Are you alright?"

[Max left the party ninety minutes in with some, ahem, company and then decided not to return. He's been strolling the decks assuming nothing is happening when he feels that pulsing vibration, very faint since he's so far away but he turns to look at where the pool is and...

Yep. That sure is the moon.

Well, maybe the party got more interesting after he left, or perhaps the Moon Master is making his own fun. Either way, Max can't help a soft chuckle. Someone finally taking the night into their own hands.]

Good for you Ebalon. Good for you.

[Should he go investigate what's happening? Sure. Is he going to? Nah. You do you party friends. You do you.]

An explanation is extraneous information now, and there isn't time anyway. Besides, what Phil says is more important information.

"What?" César's voice breaks. "They're trying to do what?"

Not again. Not again. Not again.

There's a red streak spitting off petals flitting around the pool deck, popping out into a familiar teenage girl next to friends, allies, bodies—checking on each in turn. This is chaos. This is worse than the zombies because she can't justify to herself that these aren't actually people, just some trick from the Captain.

It takes her longer than she'd like to finally spot Maeve through the chaos, and then—

And then she actually wishes she hadn't.

Because what she sees is Maeve finishing off Phil. What she sees is Maeve killing someone. What she sees is... what she needs to put a few pieces together.

Maeve hasn't said darling once, not after their talk earlier this month. Maeve didn't organise that little party she said she would. Maeve almost seemed to avoid her, towards the end.

Oh. Gods. How didn't she...

Shock freezes her in place until "Maeve" is on the move again. That snaps her out of it. Teeth gritting, grip on Crescent Rose tightening, she splits into petals and reappears right in front of her.

"You're not her. Are you?"

Wherever Bash is at this point in the night, he looks up when he sees the moon summoned. Look, Bash isn't unfamiliar with fucky moon powers happening, but this isn't the same sort of divine bullshit his cousins close and distant pull.

"What is this Margot Adler bullshit?!"

Right, maybe sometime later, he'll chase down an answer to that rhetorical question. But maybe never, because that shit is wild.

What, this? [He touches a hand to his neck.] Nah, it's just blood. This body regenerates, you know, so I don't mind others having a little fun!

[Since they're just talking now, his eyes shift back to their usual purple. Only a hint of red remains in the iris.]

You can call me Mikazuki! [His smile widens.] Aw, don't make that face. You're the first of this batch who heard my name. That means I like you!

Six, thank you for existing; César manages to take a breath and look over at him, eyes wide, face pale. "The ghosts possessing people are trying to kill everyone in there and take over their bodies. No one can escape. The barrier seems spherical."

[Rita doesn't understand what's happening.

Or, well--she sort of does, on some level, but she's too much of a confused and emotional mess right now to make sense of it all. She remembers Natsuno, now--over and over, sinking fangs into her arms--even if the memory remains fuzzy and she can't recall whatever happened afterwards.

It just--she doesn't know what to do about any of it, even as the evidence mounts that her friend, her dear friend, Natsuno, is possessed by something--]

Yuuki!

[She screams at him, barely able to say a word over the lump in her throat.]

What the hell are you--where are you--what's going on?!

[The result of her trying to ask several of the multitude of questions whirling in her mind at once, as she stares at him in horror and worry and so many other things.]

"I had rather a close call but... yes, I think I'm all right."

Watson steps closer, reaching for him. "She betrayed you at last, did she? Oh, I am most heartily sorry, dear fellow. Perhaps we never should have let her go free as we did, if this is how it turned out."

[ venti shrouded in the white ghost sheet reels, blood staining down his chest from being shot but that only opens the way to— ]

Can’t believe I’m back on this hell cruise— [ then a widening of his eyes, a slow and awed smile stealing over his face as he staggers upright, gold-tipped wings extending in a long drift from his shoulders, angelic but for the look on his face and the growing blue-green glow to his eyes and hair. the way he lifts a hand, turns it slowly with the flex of fingers into a loose fist, simply admiring the feeling of being physical, present, alive, here. oh whoa what’s this?? ] The body of a god? An archon, wind God of Mondstadt? Rodent god more like, did he even put up a fight against La Signora?

[ but he can work with this, even if he’d intended on his godly form to be more massive, artificial, indestructible… a god is a god. an archon even without the gnosis, the celestial-given higher power above higher powers, has considerable power even if he refrains from using it. and one of them is—he could transform, can’t he? the shape of a deity could be so malleable even if this one is some sad sack who refused to for thousands of years. he could change into his original form, there’s something about this spoony bard that’s just so damn un-intimidating or maybe that’s just everything about it.

god of mondstadt who refused to rule his people. what kind of an excuse of a deity does that? and yet some believed in him, followed him. even the wolf of the north acquiesced to him, even the dark dragon durin admired his song, speaking of dragons there’s that wind vishap—

six blue wings erupt from his back, feathers streaking down his arms: a dragon’s form would be so much more powerful than a bard’s, wouldn’t it? a storm in miniature but growing in power brews around him as he wrenches floorboards from the ground with an upward motion of his hand, cutting gales slicing and hurling furniture and wood and decorations at anyone around him, at passerby, at random. simply exhilarating in having power again.

a god gone rogue could do quite the damage if he’s not put down. ]

I think this is more like it.

Well, of all the people he could have ended up inside, this is definitely the most awkward. Watson runs a hand over his moustache, his expression faintly amused, then stretches a shoulder and leg that are stiff in a way that's unfamiliar and yet expected.

He draws the sword from inside his cane, and looks at the blade, and laughs. It's not very much like Watson's usual warm chuckle, but a nearly soundless snigger that shakes his whole body.

"My dear boy, you can't fence. I don't know what you were expecting to do with this, but I do thank you for the gift."

"It was a truce. I didn't want to betray that."

It's the spirit of the thing, truly, just like asking the Captain to officiate the wedding. Some things are Proper, Right, Supposed To Be, and Johnny is more in tune with that than most. Things feels better when the world is As It Should Be.

He settles in close beside Watson, head resting on his shoulder. He knows exactly how this, the way their bodies puzzle-piece together Should Be, too.

"I think César made it out before the fighting started. He's safe, at least."

[He's so taken by bloodlust and the thrill of battle, of finally feeling alive after being Nothing for who knows how long, it takes him a moment to realize she's screaming at him. That's right, the kid's called "Yuuki."

He turns around and - oh geez.]

Yuuki's not here anymore.

[He grins at Rita, apologetically. It may be hard to appreciate the sentiment when he's covered with so much blood.]

Look, can you just walk away? I don't mind taking out most of you lot, but hurting his friends by looking like him isn't my style. You're better off NOT spending your last moments thinking about that.

[The sinking feel in her chest turns into an icy cold pit. No...no, no, no. Not after she already thought he was gone once this month, and he finally came back--this can't be happening. This is--even worse, because he's standing right in front of her, outright telling her the awful truth. She shakes her head.]

No--where is he?! Bring him back!

[For better or worse, she grasps on to a single train of thought: bring Natsuno back.

...Please. He has to come back.]

If...if you don't bring him back, I...you'll pay for it...

[She shakily raises a hand in a casting stance, but it's clear her heart isn't entirely in it. What if...she does the wrong thing here? What if what she's seeing and hearing is still all messed up, like it is in her memories now?]

"Yes, I saw him. He's on the other side of the barrier. Quite safe, for now."

He's been accepted, it seems, and easier than expected. Still, he doesn't quite lean into that touch the way he normally does, or if he does it's only after a moment's hesitation, as though unsure of how, exactly, he needs to do that. Instead, Watson draws out a handkerchief to attempt to wipe at the blood on Johnny's face. "A truce. Very romantic of you, you know, in the face of all this."

He's where all souls go once the captain's done with them.

[He sighs and looks at Rita with genuine pity. It was bad enough having to clean Ann's mess, but at least she didn't have to remember that.]

Trust me, I've paid enough and in advance. If you don't walk away I will - you're not gonna ruin this for us.

Ah.

There's a soft thoughtful hum as Johnny turns to face Watson, those lambent eyes warm, and a little sad. He remains pressed in close, lips parted slightly as he looks into Watson's eyes, needing what comfort he can draw out of this moment.

"It didn't last. I wish it could have. But the pack of bastards aren't given much to cooperation. Jenny told me that, the very first time I spoke with her."

"Eep!"

Ossie hides behind the head of the animatronic and immediately tries to kick it into gear to carry him away.

"Hey- HEY- this is a KIDS show, you can't- oh right, gritty reboot," he muses, "well SOMEONE'S got to think of the poor impressionable children watching this who'll think violence is the answer. And the best way to do that is with MORE VIOLENCE-"

Pulls out the remote, boop. Hope you like piano, 6, because this piano likes you...

"And yet you don't look a day over ten thousand nine hundred and eighty o-oo-one-"

Ossie yelps, giggling nervously as Phil manages to get the front of his shirt-

"Hey- you think this is easy!? You should see the writing crew they've got me working with for this season- it's one guy and he's not even union! You've gotta recycle the classics at some point!"

Yakko attempts to duck his head out through his shirt and slip free, singing-

"So bada bah bah suck my @#$%&! I'm OUT!"

Hey Yakko how did you make that noise with your mouth-

His eyebrow twitches, intrigued by that description. "Did she, really?" Hardly flattering language, even if it's true; Watson turns a little to face Johnny better, his gaze flicking over him assessingly. "You've spoken with Jenny more than I realised, perhaps."

Yakko giggles and catches him- that's what he always liked about Ginger, he's a grade-A Serrano ham!

"Maybe I'll finally get a date! Or not violently thrown through a window next time I throw myself into a girl's arms?! Do you think they know I feel pain and still do it anyway? Girls are so mysterious..."

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monday's child is fair of face (2/2)

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"Watson" - OTA

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