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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"It's the first I've ever seen this happen," she answers, directing the words over her shoulder at him while mostly watching the crowd. "But I haven't been here that long."

[ Hey here's a fun fact; holding the blade of an opponent's sword to hit them in the face with the guard is a technique in HEMA, known as half-swording! This immediately sends Darcy into a panic, even as he sinks the blade into himself- a brief montage plays through her head of what little she saw of the battle royale, specifically the part where Natsuno survived getting mooned, and oh fuck she's in over her head. Apparently the weakness isn't as much of a weakness as he'd made it seem on their first meeting. She might be screwed.

If Notsuno wants to yank Darcy towards him, then she'll go with the motion to not lose her sword, probably smacking into him chest to chest. She can't afford to drop the medal for the moment, which leaves her knife hand unable to stab him in the eye. She can only hope the medal works better the closer she gets; otherwise, it might be time to cut her losses and run to live another few minutes.

This is what she gets for shit-talking. ]

[ Eddie definitely does not need to be told twice. He makes a beeline for the bar and tries not to let his breathing become too erratic and cause him to hyperventilate.

Wouldn't this be a great time for a cigarette to calm the nerves. But no, he does not have anything on him. Which is a shame, he could probably have fashioned some kind of flamethrower with his--

wait a second. ]

I have a lighter. If we need fire, I can probably make that happen.

[ It's not much, but at least it might make him feel like he's actually doing something? ]

[ she stops casting when she senses the knife coming her way, the magic
around her slowly fading to nothingness. one good thing about this body was the
way tear had trained her senses, the muscle memory and innate alertness of a
well-experienced soldier. she steps out of the way of the knife with an 'eep!',
a foot lifting in an uncharacteristically cute way (for tear, anyway). ]

Hey! But I'm already standing, though!!

[ she sounds a little frustrated, unsure of why erin would even use that
as a taunt.

well, then again -- she was blind, right? actually: ]

Your aim is really good for someone who can't see, I'll give you that much.
Oh, well... Pow Hammer!

[ she lifts tear's staff, conjuring a toy hammer to fall from the sky and onto erin's
head. this was one of tear's most basic spells and if it makes contact, a small
shower of bright yellow stars will appear around the other woman's head, with a squeaky-toy
sound effect for emphasis. ]

"But you could be. He was... always such a good big brother. I was jealous of Kel, a lot of the time... but I can have him back now, can't I? If I fight... I can get them all back."

That's what he wanted, isn't it? And it's not like he can stay...

"You don't want to, but... you still want Rich. I'm the one between you getting him back. If you sent me back... then Rich would probably come take his place. So... we're on different sides, aren't we?"

Omori wants to stay alive, but Dimitri wants Rich to. There's no way to remedy this.

[ ‘nothing but a coward’ does rather get to him for a moment. a snarl, the baring of teeth, feral for a blink and then shifting into a mad laugh, ] It’s a sad state when the world is full of those weaker than me! And I’m going after you now, so you count yourself among them!

[ lesser beings, lesser lives. lives so easily snuffed out! bladesmiths, youkai, vision holders, fellow fatui, those experimented on and giving their entire lives to gods. all weak, all fools! what a cute little transformation of armor she flounces around with and she sure can tank or cut away some of those arrows but there she goes yelling like some heroine in a fairy tale, practically choreographing her attack.

kind of lame! and if her lunge is straightforward enough it’d be simple enough for him to dodge, agile, leap into the sky with a flutter of feathers as eight wings slam into the air to create a gust that would knock at her while he rises into the sky like some vengeful angel. the temperature and air pressure drops more sharply still, he rakes a clawed hand through the sky, ] But you’re right, this body is new. Its owner must be more a fool than you, he wouldn’t dare do half of what I could with this. A gnosis was wasted on him after all.

I’m not necessarily in a hurry to kill you. [ he’d just returned to life, and as much spite as he has to deities this one could have him stretch his wings a little. ] If you make it entertaining enough for me, anyway. Just try to cut me down!

[ try being the key word. another arrow crashes down towards her—not just to strike, but to explode into a stormeye, that black hole like absence of wind and air that would drag her in if caught and crush. ]

Eugh, what happened to you?

[ she grimaces -- the wound was gross-looking, and having previously
murdered some people on the ship doesn't take away from that. but whatever. ]

Sure!

[ catra was a fellow ghost after all! she closes her eyes to draw upon
another of tear's spells, whispering "o healing power..." as if in prayer.
when she opens her eyes, she can see a white ball of light gently float onto
ryan: repairing the body's wounds with ease. ]

There, good as new! Did you want some kind of power-up along with that?
Tear's got, like, sooo many cool abilities!

[ It still trips Eddie up, seeing Vance do the whole ghost thing. But he has to hand it to the guy, now is definitely the time when Eddie would maybe wish he had some ghostly powers.

Maybe not enough to die (again) though. ]

Jesus H. Christ! What do you think?! [ Sorry, Vance, he's just having a time. ] Just for once I'd love for something to go right instead of incredibly fucking wrong.

Look, the way 'Clarke' is strutting about with a sword is suspicious. Nothing concrete, but suspicious. The fray is bloody and chaotic and it's hard to tell who's on what side.

ALL of these are the reasons Darcy will give for very suddenly appearing in Clarke's shadow and punching her in the face afterwards.

No follow-up, just wanted to do it, and she'll try and scamper away just as quickly.

"I've no interest in helping you either."

A quick, flickering pass of the rapier -- not really trying to hit him, more testing his responses -- and she's back to holding, waiting for him. Darting glances past him and to either side, in case this is meant as a distraction.

[She sighs, because it was cool and fun and now it's gone. Unless it can be fixed later but she sure doesn't know how to sew that well. Ylva pulls herself out of the dinosaur, casting it aside.]

You don't know if you are? I mean, you didn't try to kill me now, so that means a lot.

[She grins.]

I don't think I want to fight you, if I can help it.

"I'd offer to help but I'm afraid I'm not much good in a fight." She's small and light on her feet, which is generally a plus for cheerleading and not much else. It's not even her fight, but she'd make an attempt if he needed her to.

"Any suggestions on how to do that?"

It's possible that he might know a way to get past the barrier, if nothing else.

Ah, a gift from the shadows. Ivar had been wielding a detached table leg until this moment, and while he has no opposition to a good club it lacks some of the finesse of a blade. More effort to wield, and for all this body's pitiful attempts at strengthening itself, he thinks it would only be a few swings before her arms felt like wet leather weighted with stones. A sword was easier, a sword cut. And when offered one — when the brutal blonde girl child with a sad face is handed one — he takes it.

Past looking like Clarke, that's where the similarities end. Ivar walks with a slump in his shoulders, Ivar wears a scowl that mismatches the bright eyes just above it. But he does not think she ever knew this sharp boned person, and thus doesn't put on airs. Simply weighs the shadow swords in one hand before tossing it idly to the other.

"May I have an axe as well?"

Being hoisted by the scruff is pretty commonplace for Yakko, but in this body it feels even weirder- probably a function of him having actual bones that do more than serve comedic purposes! Nevertheless all 5'10 of him dangles limp, probably some of him dragging on the floor.

"Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy Ivar- you know I think I saw him on the other side of the ship- you know, thataway-"

Limply points as far away from himself as possible. Some people even Yakko can't befriend, man.

"So if you could just put me down...?"

Klaus makes a face. It’s weirdly uncomfortable to have anyone put their trust in him and his abilities. Even weirder to have them believe he’s not too much of a fuck up not to somehow destroy everything and everyone in the process. He hasn’t had a lot of that and the responsibility of keeping people safe feels heavier than he likes.

He shrugs. “What could go wrong?” They are laughing again out of nerves, but Nobunaga is actually competent and Klaus doesn’t want to keep him just because he’s sure someone is gojng to die on his watch and he’ll have to pretend it doesn’t bother him.

Fuck.

“Go fight. I’ll be waiting outside your door after this is over and you can pin me to the bed and punish me for all the blushing.” This is obviously the move.

The hammer makes contact -

- With an odd field of leafy green energy around Erin. The impact sends her staggering forward, but the promised skull-crushing does not seem to be forthcoming. Erin's ears twitch violently, and her own hammer - the oversized mallet she took after killing Yakko - is switched to a two-handed grip as she sets off in a dead run.

(Was that a big hit? How can we tell? Ruby only said we have so many of those left in us...)

Well it was smaller than the fucking piano.

(IS IT MEASURED ON A PIANO SCALE, PETERS?)

"Never shoulda let you walk away," Erin snarls in that musical voice. "But here we are I guess! I didn't want to kill a fucking teenager but HERE WE ARE, I GUESS!"

She's closing the distance. At Some Speed.

Sure is. Just sitting above her too, one leg crossed over the other and having the time of her life.

"Nah," 'Ryan' says, with a menacing and playful tilt to 'his' voice. "I don't need to be down there to know I'm right."

Ryan's hands are curled around the ledge he's perched on - a pose that looks playful at a glance, but will let Catra make a break for it whenever she pleases.

Not just yet though. She has a girl to harass.

"What's the matter~? Friends all got possessed on you~?" There's a dark grin. She's enjoying this, despite the words she's making come out of Ryan's mouth. "Tough break, Princess."

Derogatory, of course.

"We'll work it out," Watson says, creeping closer. "I don't know what the solution is, but surely it can't be this? There are any number of people here who know what magic is like, so surely one of them can think of something."

Again, he nervously glances back over his shoulder. He trusts Omori more than he trusts many of the people here.

That's a very qualified statement, but still true.

[Jack, who in his emotional exhaustion this month, retired to his room very early, is given the rudest wake-up call in his life as the charm he stuck to his bare chest explodes.

Not that he even realizes that's what happened at first. There's just pain and heat and his hand moving on old reflex, one arm clutching the bedspread beside him while the other gropes for his pillow-

And it's tucked there, right beside his head, just like it used to be in Rapture. His breathing comes in heaving wet gasps and his hands shake, but they find the tiny kit, fumble it open, and grab the red-filled hypo within it.

One jab later and a minute for the bleeding to stop and the flesh to grow back together, and Jack's left sore and panting on the bed, wondering what the fuck-

He pieces it together, eventually, though the conclusion he comes to is that it must be a reaction from - a ghost attack or something? Because why else would they explode like that-

And then it clicks in, if the charms did that because of the ghosts, then something really bad is happening with the ghost situation on the ship.

Jack cusses under his breath and doesn't bother to do more than shed the remains of his old shirt before he starts suiting up with weapons. Shotgun, handgun, wrench. Classics for a reason, reliably heavy damage or reliably aimed damage, close and long ranges. EVE hypos clipped to his belt, easy access if he has to recharge his abilities very quickly. Bag of supplies secure over his shoulder. The wound on his chest is fresh, only just closed, liable to tear again if he isn't careful on his way to the party, since apparently he can't even escape reminders of Rapture's goddamn new years party on here.

He steps through the door and takes a moment to assess the hallway, and when he's confident it's clear he begins to make his way to the party.]

Darcy disappears from sight.

And suddenly that 'princess' in shining armour appears in 'his' shadow, looming, trying to match the mockery with her own.

"You want to call me that again? I didn't hear you the first time."

"We will find another way! I swore it to you and I will do so again -- "

("And leave me stuck like this?! Some fucking friend -- ") "I'm trying!" Dimitri cries, to a spot a few feet to the left of Omori.

"You want to bring them to this? With them? How can you trust them? What's stopping any of them from deciding their family gets a turn in Rich's body? In mine, whoever lands in it? César's? They'll take Kel and Hero and Mari from you again as easily as they're killing us!"

Dimitri shakes his head and steps forward. Blood drips from the knife in Rich's hands. His blood boils, screaming that Omori is a killer and a traitor who deserves only death in kind, at war with his so-familiar image of a frightened, lonely child in a hostile world, with the terror of consigning a desperate ghost to the frozen purgatory Dimitri knows so well.

"There has to be another way. Just -- just give me the knife, Omori. Find someplace to hide."

[ she flinches when cassandra moves her rapier, brining up her staff
as though to interrupt the impact of a strike. her expression twists into one
of anger when she realizes it was some kind of test -- not to mention, with what
cassandra says next.

rude!! ]

Shut up!! It's not like anyone even knows you to remember you either!

[ ugh this wasn't supposed to just be a petty cat fight though! she needed
to get her friends into cassandra's body!

she makes a sweeping motion with tear's staff, which produces a few balls of light at
the other woman. if they make impact, they'll explode -- leaving small
burns and aches on cassandra's body. ]

Banishing Sorrow!

He's been hit harder than that plenty of times in his life, but — joys of a new body, it feels pain on a much different scale than he. Knuckles crack the side of his new, softer jaw; teeth grate against each other hard, his head snaps to the side. But it's just a punch and on old, old muscle memory he's lashing out with his sword arm at Darcy's retreating form. Absolutely slaps the shit out of her back with the flat edge of the blade and barks:

"Fucking French rat— "

He's smiling though, and doesn't follow through with a secondary overhand cutting blow. It's... playful, really. The way one plays with their food before ripping it apart. Run away, little rabbit. Run yourself ragged. The inside of his cheek has been bitten through upon impact, a fresh wave of blood oozing across new, lively taste buds. It's the taste of war sliding down the back of his throat with each heaving swallow, and he wants more.

Expecting another knife, or a blow with the staff, she's taken by surprise and fails to dodge the bursts of light; a grunt of pain escapes her at the impact, and she falls back a pace or two.

No more insults for the moment; she circles, warily, watching for a chance to strike in earnest.

"I'll see if I can get out, then maybe I can break the rest of you out, too" he says.

He's currently walking right through a table, so it's worth a try.

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Page 17 of 58

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

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Post ota II as discussed

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Post ota III

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[a setup comment to get Jack to the save point] [cw vague gore and needle mention]

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calling out attacks in rpgs is so cringey lol

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failed dex save!

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