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

[palfriday]

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!

Comments

[theotherright]

"N...o?" says Nellie, as she schools her face into the appropriate expression of thought. She's a better liar than Arthur has ever been, and can't think of anything obvious that Crichton might have had to apologise for, and also knows that it's easier to bluff ignorance than to make up something from whole cloth.

This conversation doesn't have nearly enough stabbing. Unfortunately, the glance she's taken at Arthur's memories of this man include 'something something demigod', exactly the kind of guy who made her die so much back in the day. Fortunately, the violent chaos around them provides an excuse to leave and find an easier victim.

"Is this really the best time, Bash?" She remembers not to call him 'love'. Acting! More or less at random, she picks a name Arthur seems to care about. "I'm going to try to find Ryan, make sure the poor lad's not hurt. You take care of yourself, all right?"

1/2

[chickenchoicejudy]

There's no time to fight it. There's no time to even protest, really. He struggles, but then Steve...then this guy is straddling him, blade to his throat, hand pulling his hair tight.

It happens so fast.

By the time he's free to move again, he's sliding to the ground. He tries to lift his hand up, as if needing to touch the wound, but his whole arm shakes when he tries.

"St..."

The world tilts.

His eyes...flutter shut.

[opheliac]

(vi tells her to go high and of course, jinx does the opposite. but really, would her "going high" would make a difference? and maybe it is foolish of her to go against a god, but that's the zaunitie in her. one can be human, a god, or a monster, she will fight against it even when she has nothing. she will stand up and charge at whoever goes against her or her people. anything is better than running away or cowering from the sidelines -- even if it means she will fail. she will be satisfied with any death that will come to her as long as she died fighting.

and with his hand on her throat, her natural response is to claw at his hand in attempt to ease his grip. his words strike a core in her; it's not him but... his voice. and now more voices are ringing:

'i'm not weak.'

'useless fucking donkey!'

'what makes you different makes you strong.'

'you're strong now. just like how you've always meant to be. jinx is perfect.'

pink shimmer tears are streaming down her cheeks as she grits her teeth; hitting and clawing at his hands in desperation. then her panic begins to settling in for her of the realization that... she is going to die here. alone. again. she's going to die here alone. not again. she doesn't want to go through this by herself again. her thoughts are swirling of just wanting ekko. where is he? or is he already...?

she can feel herself losing consciousness as she gasps more for air. her mind is slowing and is unable to at least think of a prayer before this all ends.

'i can fight.... i can.... help....'

but then, something unexpected happened. her eyes are already closed when this shine comes through. and honestly, she assumed this light was heaven itself ready to yank her away. then suddenly, she is dropped -- the grip is gone and she is gasping so harshly of need of air; coughing. her mind heavily hazed but being pulled against... someone. she doesn't know who but the voice is familiar. with a very slow head lift, she peers up to pollux with weak and a confusion look. when did she...? why is she...?)

[bubblegumheart]

"Oh, well that part is obvious!"

Maybe she should have been expecting that sort of answer, but the absurdity makes her laugh despite the gravity of the situation.

"Is it going to be effective against the people that might be trying to kill me?"

2/2 cw: bloody

[chickenchoicejudy]

...And then they open.

They dart from left to right, and then settle upward at Billy, eyebrow arched. Unamused.

With an unreasonable amount of ease given what just happened, Ryan's body shifts, stretches deep, and then stands. The shoulders are rolled one at a time, and the new host cracks the neck. Blood runs down the white stripe of the Josie and the Pussycats costume.

Then, with great irritation, she spits the glob of blood that pooled in Ryan's mouth at the ground by Billy's feet.

"Ugh. Do you always have to be so dramatic?"

She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, and then casually licks the blood away. This turns into running her new tongue along the edges of Ryan's teeth, and then examining Ryan's fingernails and making a face at them for not being sharp enough.

"I guess this guy'll do." She rolls her eyes, but then grins at Billy with the smuggest smile. "Finder's keepers."

[inhairently]

Billy grins. It isn't very pleasant. "Do I look like I'm joking?" he asks.

Of course, he doesn't really expect her to toss the rapier away. That would be too easy. And to be frank, he sort of likes the challenge, though he isn't quite decided on his first move just yet so for now he settles for watching her like a dangerous animal.

"I guess it's your move, then."

picking door number three

[mikraitios]

( By the time the Dioscuri happen upon "Rita", the floor has already collapsed by way of a blinding light that Castor could only recognize to mean that Pollux, too, was inside of the barrier. Blood may stain their armor and wounds dig deep in their skin, but now, they walk hand-in-hand as they survey the wreckage and violence below—searching, first and foremost, for familiar faces. The hope is that when they recognize them, they can lend their aid; unfortunately, it seems that they may have missed their opportunity, judging by the way Rita lies flat on her back against the rubble.

Castor nods his head in the direction to indicate it to Pollux before they make their way over, and he finds himself standing over her with crossed arms and a critical eye to her injuries. From what he can discern though, she is still breathing. There's a pause, and speaking up: )

Rita.

( Answer him...! )

[nyktifanis]

( worse for wear, but their spirit cores are still in tact just like before all this happened. the expressions are ingrained in her memory, burned to the point that even now as she wanders through the rubble from what's shattered and destroyed, and it makes the appearance of the eterna look to be a battlefield than a cruise ship. blood and smoke lingers in the air, and then the thickness of the water sloshes as they make their way through it. she listens to her brother's voice first as a frown pulls at her face, where castor has no need to show such emotions, pollux makes up for it instead.

slowly she kneels down, inspecting the damages done to her body, and the rips in her perfect, but gaudy costume— someone came here first and handled business before they could, but isn't it already unfortunate that she had died before? her chest still raises up and down, barely, but enough that if fate is on their side then they could share a few moments.

she bites her tongue first, and then she reaches out to grab her hand to give a light squeeze in case "rita" is unable to hear, and perhaps her senses through touch are better. )

It is the Dioscuri, ( she takes a deep breath, a pain bubbling up in her chest that subsides only moments as she exhales. ) can you hear us?

[firewalled]

There is someone familiar in amidst all the smoke and fog. Someone young, or younger than he even appears. Omori isn't attacking yet, but there's blood on his costume suggesting he already has.

When he sees Dimitri, he raises his blade up, even though his eyes are welling up with tears.

"This time... this time for sure."

obsessively close sibling moments

[myagic]

[He stares upwards, unseeing and unhearing--vision filled with blinding bloom from the lightning that lanced through him, ears ringing from the accompanying clap of thunder. His heart--his real, human heart--feebly continues beating, but it's obvious it isn't going to last. His lungs ache with every breath, and yet...he wants to laugh.

Ha. Haha. What a fool he is, for so readily ignoring the limitations of this pitiful body...when freedom was right here, right in his grasp.

Vaguely, he thinks that perhaps he hears a voice over the ringing--and then gentle hands take his. Ah...this sensation... He squints, just barely able to make out two shadowy forms--tries to squeeze her hand back, yet all he manages is a twitch, as his head lolls in her direction. Oh, please...let his vision and his hearing clear, so he can see her face and listen to her voice before he dies... If he can do that, this won't have been for nothing...]

Martel...? Martel...you've come back...I did it...my sister...

[His voice is barely above a whisper, but he has to talk to her again--it's been so long.]

[midnightroads]

"Yes. The sword is made of shadow and will slice flesh. Killing someone who's possessed will keep them from killing you. I can't guard everyone, not all at once, but I can give you a tool to defend yourself."

He coalesces from the shadow somewhat, long hair and freckly face, humanoid with coffee-black eyes.

"I'm sorry I can't protect you properly, but there's more in play tonight that I need to account for. When this is all over, let's talk."

[midnightroads]

A shard of glass leaves a cut that trails from right beside Bash's eye toward his ear. Fire tries to catch in his hair, but he pats it out.

"You can't actually use it effectively. No skill for presentation, sweetheart."

Bash readies the machete as Chase comes closer, shoulders tense, braced for trouble.

[goodweather]

They're going to slaughter us all, Phil wants to say, but that's a little too melodramatic even for his taste, and it's not helpful right now. César doesn't need a panic attack right now any more than the rest of them.

So he tries everything he can to choke his fear.

"They'll kill us," he says. "They want our bodies and they're going to get them by killing all of us. We're--we're trying to fight them off, but if--if--"

[wimdy]

[ he’s kicked—maybe he could have been careful and anticipated another attack but what kind of buzzkill would cut in on his valuable throttling time???… ah, it’s her. goddess of the stars. he recognizes her in the split second of light that nearly blinds him and then her foot connects with his ribs and knocks him square away and maybe crashing right into the animatronic baphomet. maybe he could have sliced himself on the scythe… it’s probably not real but if it was wouldn’t that be fitting.

in another world barbatos is a duke of hell.

in this one the spectre inhabiting him is a deity artificial. he rights himself; the villainous grin on his face disappears, the glow of his eyes fixing on pollux and then jinx, like that goddess had stolen his kill. it may as well be a higher power’s prerogative to play with or discard the lives of mortals, lesser lives. another god is a different story. not just a threat but… ]

Who dares? A meddlesome goddess of false stars doesn’t need to know. [ the stars, the sky is a lie. back home and here, in this artificial world. he was an artificial life created by a goddess, the first betrayal a deity and the world had ever wrought on him. his wings flare as he snarls, showing teeth. oh this archon’s vessel is actually really irritating… he could just as well try to shift to something more intimidating right? ]

Maybe I’ll bless you with my god’s name if you would do me the favor of dying nicely!

[ whether to get possessed or just to get crushed. his original element was of electricity but he seems to have an affinity for the wind. a flurry of cutting gales slices towards her and jinx—millennia ago, barbatos could cut apart mountains and toss them to sea.

he doesn’t quite want to destroy the ship but he could probably like to cut apart another god. ]

[theweakhavepurpose]

[Deputy Pratt is in his room in cabin 141, sitting on the ground with his back against the door, in his hands is a wooden box with a hinged lid that he keeps turning over and over and over, fingernails scraping at some residue from the tape that had been holding it shut that he peeled off. The whole time humming something to himself.

one two Freddy's coming for you, three four better lock your door...

He chuckles because he finds that extremely hilarious, and so would Pickles if that asshole was around. Setting the box down he checks his phone again. The ghost inside his best friend had texted him saying that the possessed were going to start trying to kill everyone and take over their bodies and had threatened to come after Pratt in twenty minutes.

five six get a crucifix, seven eight better stay up late, nine ten never sleep again

Well it's been about four hours now and Pratt is feeling a bit like he's been stood up for a murder date. Fucking dick. But then... The explosion in the cabin down the hall is felt more than heard and Pratt smiles, thinking it's him and they can finish this little spat.]

Fucking finally.

[The box gets tucked into one of the pouches at his belt, and he grabs a small brass key from nearby and threads it onto the chain holding the dogtags around his neck. There's no hesitation as he yanks open the door and strides into the hall, still in his bloodied Deputy uniform. But what he sees is: not Pickles, not Sharky, in fact it's someone he's never seen before.

Suspicious.]

What happened? Who are you?

[Fantastic first meeting, really nailed the compassion to someone who's currently bleeding, but he's so convinced everyone is possessed and moments from stabbing him that he's not taking any chances.]

Closed to Skulduggery

[sabigoe]

[ The moment Skulduggery and Ava turned their attention away from her, Mary took the chance to sneak off. She told them that she was only interested in a "little peek" into the party for a few minutes. That she would listen when told to leave. And that she would be on her best behavior, like the little angel that she is! Of course, everything was all a lie. Not only towards the two of her-- Fio's most trusted guardians, but to all of her friends throughout the month.

Mary briefly considered completely taking over the role of "Fio" at some point during the past two weeks. Claim all her friends and family for her own... but she was nothing like Fio, who was loved for her kindness and honesty. And much more.

Feeling confident that she's not being tracked through the chaos, she releases Calcite from underneath her arm, allowing the plush dragon to drift into the air above her. Having Judith around would have served as a third weapon, but she ripped it apart and tossed it away while her mind was clouded with frustration.

Brandishing her knife, she stalks through the crowd, on her hunt for a specific target... ]

[pinballer]

[ And now is another time when being a ghost comes in handy. Unfortunately it doesn't allow him to escape the bubble but it's not like he can be attacked like this. Besides, he actually has a decent reputation among the ghosts.

Eddie on the other hand isn't so lucky. Vance rushes up to him after everything goes down, just to make sure he's okay. ]

Shit. You alright, Eddie?

SUB-OTA while the music's playing

[prince_of_beasts]

Dimitri was already teetering, disoriented and reeling as time and place and memory slip around him. The screeching strings sweep over him, and his mind goes blank, all efforts dissolved in smoke and white fire.

But he was already whirling towards the music. His glazed eyes lock on the singers -- one he knows, who attacked him, the other in the body of his friend, musical voice perfectly harmonized and twisted and wrong -- and he launches himself at the makeshift bandstand with a scream of fury.

Get in his way at your peril.

Hey Darcy~

[chickenchoicejudy]

Ryan seems to have somehow climbed up some of the decorations in bare feet and now he's lounging on an upper railing - still within the barrier of course, but up high enough that it's easier to spot people in the crowd (because ugh this one's got defective eyes or something. Can't see in the dark and needs glasses? Pathetic.) But it's the perfect seat to antagonize people and distract them from their fights.

You know, for fun. The Captain hasn't made fun illegal, right?

"Yeah, I'm gonna pass on that." Very casual, like this is all a spectator sport to be heckled from a distance. "But aw, she's mad. Adorable."

Equal parts amusement and venom wrapped up in a single word.

[goodweather]

Mara leaves him panting on the floor. He doesn't have the headspace to respond, but it's barely a conversation. She's just playing with him. All the better. If he can keep her away for as long as possible...

He scrambles to his feet and runs. The adrenaline is pumping and so is his blood, dripping down his feathers and just now beginning to trail across the deck. Move, move--fuck, why are there so many goddamn people and so many things in the way--

--(and on the floor, just as he's gone, a thin layer of black ice. A hidden hazard. If he's lucky, he'll hear Mara slip, and then maybe--maybe...)

[pinballer]

"I'd usually kick all their asses but," he looks around at everything, "This is...a lot more ass to kick than I'm used to."

He feels weak and helpless and it sucks. He's supposed to be a fighter.

"Yeah, that's - that's a good idea."

roll: 14

[nyktifanis]

( her body radiates a constant warmth, an afterglow that jinx will feel coursing through her body— a goddess of light's energy that circulates through her, and even her surroundings as she breathes in and out. when it comes to battle, pollux is never alone, and yet here she is crippling herself with a bystander in hand, and no relative to support her. despite these visible weaknesses, she doesn't stand down as she keeps her hold on jinx even tighter, and dismisses the disrespect offered to her.

her voice grows low, barely above a whisper, but an exchange that's meant for jinx as her gaze pierces at the deity before her, a being unknown inhabiting someone that doesn't belong to him. )

I cannot keep you with me.

( she knows her limitations, and she'll need free reign with both her hands soon enough if she wishes to battle properly. jinx may not realize it, but the energy that pollux has offered is a pick-me-up, a bit of energy to keep her going without collapsing once released. she will soon enough, but as long as it's not here around him then it has done its purpose. )

When I let you go, hide.

( she parts her feet to get into position, deciding her next move as she watches "venti"'s movements, but when does a god of wind need to be as nimble as their element to direct attacks? it's the sound of wind cutting through the air that she listens out for, rather than searching and uses her speed to just to dodge them with relative ease. it would be remiss if a god of her status allowed herself to be harmed so early in, especially to someone who would go as far as to cause harm to humans. that happens to be his first mistake, as she carries jinx away from the the sound of wind colliding into the walls behind them over, and over, and over again. she lands onto a nearby table with jinx practically dangling in her grasp, but she feels as though enough energy has been offered that the rubble behind will do well for cover.

with that in mind, she drops jinx down on the floor behind her. )

[not_the_last]

"What you look like is another matter entirely, sir." Still cold, and now contemptuous, as she brings her rapier and her feet into first position with the grace of long habit. "I'm not interested in conversing with a man wearing a borrowed skin."

[prince_of_beasts]

"Chrissy?!"

It's been almost two months -- Dimitri had assumed she'd vanished off the boat. (Which, she did, but he doesn't know that.) To this Chrissy, he's nearly six feet of sword-wielding young man in a bloodied werewolf costume who inexplicably knows her name. The blade in her hands looks like a thin slice of shadow, but by the way she's holding the it, she doesn't know how to use it.

"Stay behind me -- I'll protect you."

[light_mischief]

[Skulduggery is still seething from Friday's abrupt retreat when he spots Fio's angelic costume from the back. His first instinct, the one that overpowers all others, is to rush forward, to grab hold, drag her up into the air and out of the fray before something happens to her.

He makes it almost to her before his sharper mind prevails, unfurling a laundry list of warning signs he should have noticed before tonight. Hesitating to grab his hand, telling him she didn't need him watching so much, impatient, annoyed, bratty --

He grabs Fio's shoulder to yank her back towards him, still unable to actually admit the obvious to himself as he shouts,]

YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE.