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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One day, Chase will learn to save the gloating for when he's actually won. No, wait, he won't, because there's a machete cleaving through his (well, Jeff's) neck, and it's so sudden, so quick, that all he manages is wide-eyed surprise and--

That's it.

It's a gruesome scene, but probably a kinder death than he deserved. There's a certain mercy in going out before he can even fully register it. He's here, then gone. But at least he doesn't have time to dread it, to fear the imminent nothing that awaits him. And all that's left is Jeff's dead body, lying on the floor.

Oh. Yeah. And his head. Can't forget that.

It's the head that Bash picks up gingerly. Closes the eyes, and stares at for a moment before kissing the lips that will soon be cold.

"We'll be together soon, like he said, love."

"No." César's response is surprisingly immediate; he forces a smile. "... thank you. Don't divide your attention. Do everything within reason to stay alive. And with any luck... we'll see each other again."

His gaze flicks from Six to César, the cigarillo dangling almost carelessly from his fingers.

"It is very simple," he says. "I am, at present, in Watson's body. Now, this is not amenable to you, and while there are certainly worse bodies I could find myself in -- handsome, hale, though his shoulder is rather a bit stiffer than he lets on -- it is not, precisely, preferable to me. And yet I am rather loathe to give it up. If you'd experienced what I have, well, perhaps you'd understand."

His expression hardens, a keen glitter in his eyes. "I will need a different body. As I said, I think I would have rather liked yours, but we are both reasonable, intelligent men, Doctor Salazar. I can negotiate. Help me work out how to get from Watson's body to another, more suitable frame. I shall have a body once again, we shall both have Watson back." And he smiles again, broad and delighted. "A perfect solution. Now, your friend there, I would be quite willing to make do with him. And he isn't a very pleasant conversationalist, is he?"

Yeah that's fair enough. And enough for her to temporarily deactivate the claws, not wanting to strain her energy.

Because she does look rather strained, a frantic blur as she keeps turning her head one way and the next, all while still staring at Darcy. "No... I thought she was with Skulduggery, but he asked if I-" and Fio wouldn't have wandered off from both of them. Her only hope is that Fio is hiding already, like Ava had taught her in their self defense lessons.

But there's a sinking feeling, a worry that she's not willing to face. All the signs she'd been ignoring because she didn't want it to be true.

"If you see her..." her look is pleading. "Whatever's necessary." To protect her. Or.

César stiffens at the suggestion, but still rolls it around in his head for a brief silence. "You have John's memories. You know neither he nor I would abide by such a thing. So a counter proposal."

A dramatic pause, because it's required. "... I can make you your ideal body with the right tools. No one needs to die. There's no laws against human engineering here."

It's not a bluff. But he would need the equipment to do so.

[ Please hit, please hit. These doll companions only contain one charge per day. When the blast does hit, unlike Fio, whose face would have been fraught with worry and fear for her actions, Mary smiles with sadistic glee that's completely unfitting of her current form.

And she skips, doing a twirl along the way, humming a tune-- ring-a-ring of roses, a pocket full of posies... Oh BOY, what is that on the floor? An even BIGGER knife! Which she unfortunately(?) cannot lift up very well in this weak form of hers that she's been cursing all month. Nor does Mary have the coordination to properly use a sword. NEVERMIND. STEAK KNIFE MAIN WEAPON IT IS.

Well, she'll give the sword a small nudge with her foot and makes her way across the deck to Darcy.

Fio's memories told her that she adored this girl. Thought she was cool, strong, amazing, and talented with a sword. She loved whenever she was lifted into a hug. Even Mary genuinely enjoyed their time together, on the way to the buffet... back when she made somewhat more of an effort to be Fio. Except for when she had a near meltdown...

...She has to get this body for Omori. For his sister. Or even Ib if Mari doesn't manage to show up somehow. She has to get all her friends back from Nothing and make everyone proud. She has to treat her friends right. ]

Darce... [ In the same, gentle, soft caring tone as Fio would use. Yet it doesn't match her impish smile. ] You okay?

( That voice and familiar bony hand pulling on her shoulder... she grits her teeth together hard, stumbling backwards. Immediately she springs forward again in several steps, then spins around to promptly look up at the skeleton. The same uncharacteristic look of irritation crossing over her features.

...Fio's "father". A skeleton? Weird. Ever since the battle royale, this group of passengers' battle royale, ever since he comforted her that day... and when he held her hand during the victory party-- she would keep going to him for more of that warmth and affection. It always reminded her of the time when she was once loved and cared for by her own parents. And it filled that empty hole in her heart. Fio's heart.

Mary really should have just dragged him out as far back as she could into the Spirit that day. Take him out right there with Calcite's Light-affinity nuke. Then try to rip his skull off his spine, make it just like her mannequin heads from Guertena's gallery. That would've been so much fun...! Sure, she's capable of doing it now, but she's saving the doll's ammo for a very special target. )

[ Her expression softens, dipping her head in shame. And she manages to lift her gaze, a look of fear and worry into the skull's eye sockets. ]

...Daddy.

Um, I'm... I'm sorry. I'm really sorry I wasn't a good kid. Now soooo many bad things are happening. [ With her free hand, Fio reaches forward to take his skeletal hand. Just like how she always does... ] It's so scary now. I'll stick close to you, 'kay?

That stiffening and hesitation. César couldn't honestly be considering even for a moment...?

White-hot anger flared as the seconds seemed to slowly tick by. It was probably for the best that his eyes were covered by sunglasses lest Dr. Salazar see the accusation in his eyes: What? Taking some of the best years of my life wasn't enough?

"I'm not hearing any reasons why we shouldn't leave you where you are," Six said tartly. "You want Dr. Watson? You have him more completely than you could ever dream for. There's nothing for you to gain from another body, stolen or otherwise. And if you die in that bloodbath, the situation will likely sort itself out in Dr. Salazar's favor."

Edited 2022-10-27 23:31 (UTC)

Billy flinches as the rapier moves, jerking back to avoid the hit — but she was just testing him it, it seems. His grin grows wider at that, the tip of his tongue poking out between his teeth, and he chuckles. "See, I don't think you understand," he says. "I'm not giving you a choice."

The dagger worries him more than the rapier. It'll be harder to avoid at close range, but he's been calm up until now, and perhaps a sudden movement will catch her off guard.

With that in mind, he barrels forward all at once, aiming to grab the wrist of her hand holding the dagger.

There's a flicker of faintly crazed agony in his face. Surely it's not so very terrible? No. No, he's been through so much, he deserves this.

"Grow a body. Now, there is an idea. From what? How long would such a process take?" Holmes smokes for a moment, smiling at César rather humourlessly. "Because we are, as you may have noticed, rather working with a strict deadline. And yes, I suppose from your perspective it must seem that I am bargaining from an inferior position, but relying on if I die doesn't seem very certain, does it? Sooner or later this barrier will come down, and you may very well find it beneficial for one of us to want you to stay in command of your own brain. I am a man of my word."

"And yet you're here. With me."

She moves to the side, circling around Darcy like a predator. 'Kitten' might not have been far off the mark - sure, Ryan wore a cat costume to the party, but the person possessing him really embodies the look. Her confidence is not just unearned, but demanded. She doesn't even have to move fast - she's got Darcy's full attention. She just slinks around like...

...well. Like a cat toying with a mouse.

She leans in, totally amused. Somehow, she's gotten close enough to mock her right in her ear.

"Aww. I get it now. You're playing dress-up like a bwig gwirl knight. Adorable."

Edited 2022-10-27 23:53 (UTC)

She's more than half expecting the lunge, and instead of sidestepping it, she lunges in turn to meet it: arm at full extension, back leg straight, front leg bent and braced, the rapier's point aimed for his heart. The force of his charge adds to the strength of her own arm, running him onto the blade like meat on a skewer.

The puffy orange vest he's wearing isn't tough enough or bulky enough to provide any armoring ... but it does have just enough mass to spoil her aim, meaning that the blade goes through the hollow of his shoulder instead of between his ribs.

Not quite, she thinks coldly, and starts to pull back --

"Fuck me," she says without even thinking about it. Because this is more annoying than she really wanted it to be. "You guys really do just...have no follow through." Why is she taunting her? Well, it's the easiest thing she knows to do.

"What do you think I can do here?" She couldn't give the body up even if she wanted to (she doesn't), but she doesn't say that. She lifts the katana up. It's going to be a fight to the death, then, isn't it? "And I'm not making you do anything. You're the one choosing it, so don't try to put this on me, kid. Fucking take responsibility for what you're going to do already." But she's going to be as ready as she can for it. "Or fuck off instead. I have shit to do."

[ oh great, she can heal! annoying ass… well some of us are DPS-es (maybe) and some of us or maybe one of them, apparently, is stuck in the body of a support. a support who used to be a god who could fuck things up with far more power if only he really had his gnosis but beggars can’t be choosers when it comes to bodies.

venti doesn’t know her capabilities, especially in combat—it means he’s careful and she has a sword and he’s agile to keep out of striking distance when this bard uses a bow. if it comes down to melee vs ranged, he could talk shit but he is in this to win when he’d clawed his way out of the void to slip into a body in the first place. her speed this time does take him off-guard and then the blade comes down.

his scream of pain when one of his wings is cut through; his flight falters as he spirals down sharply before trying to recover more height. play to his strength even if this body is unfamiliar, even if these abilities are unfamiliar, if venti really were in a fight (though he’d rather not be) his domain is the sky. not exactly so for this specter but he can’t lose, not after coming back like this— ]

Damn you—

There are no rules when it comes to this ship unless you’re just that clueless! [ manic again, as if by a turn of a switch, once he’s hit or injured. ] The pretension of gods like you. The arrogation of these humans and mortals…! [ a wave of his hand at the chaos of those below, fighting for survival or to kill, to bring their shipmates back— ] You have no idea the games we’ve been through, the slaughter, defeats after defeats— [ the sea wind that coils and buffets around him might just hide the shaking of his body, whether in injury, in adrenaline, in rejection, in pure fury, ]

All of us want to live.

[ and that just means everyone here has to die.

and now that she’s in closer proximity to him the next void of a stormeye is fired off straight at her face, with the black fierce gravity that would tear at her to try to drag her in. while he skirts the fringe of its boundary—if she tries to lunge at him again, it would be tempting fate to be pulled in by the ice cold wind. ]

"Let her go!" It doesn't work like that, even she knows it doesn't work like that, it was in the information shared at the meeting that the ghosts claimed they couldn't give up the bodies, but— she's not thinking straight. "Fight back!"

It's all very transparent, isn't it. She needs to do this. If it stands a chance at freeing Maeve, she needs to. And yet she still doesn't want to. She wants her hand forced, more so than it already is.

She wants to be able to justify it to herself.

She's never killed someone before.

César's expression cracks at Six's response. A microexpression of sheer terror and loss. It's wiped clean just as quickly as it came, but César knows Holmes saw it. Six has just given Holmes another win in this conversation.

"A month. Excluding the acquisition of equipment." A laugh as humorless as Sherlock's smile. "But that's too long, isn't it? And you know that John and I are bound to our morals."

He breathes, in and out, expression falling to grief. "So if you win, John is dead. And so am I, for I will not trade his life for another. We'd both rather be consigned to oblivion than to see our friends and family replaced. You can kill all the bodies you want. The only one he will ever willingly occupy is his own."

It's all the truth.

Klaus is in the midst of throwing another pumpkin when he notes that the moon is doing something he's not used to the moon doing. The pulsing gives him a moment of pause, but he makes a small hum of interest.

"Really hope the moon doesn't fucking explode." An apocalypse seems like a shitty thing to live through and chances are they wouldn't. At least they'll look good when they die.

[thick, brownish blood seeps from the slice on Monday's throat, and her hand goes there first, the other clutching at where the same blood pours from her gut. she lets out a shaky laugh.]

Shit… F-Figures… Keep getting killed by… shitty little blonds, huh…

[she staggers, just slightly.]

No… N-No, no, send me… send me to Hell… let me go back to Hell, I want to go back to Hell, anything but--

[she slumps forward fully, landing with a thick thud onto the barrier below.

there is no sound as the barrier falls. there is, likely, quite a lot of sound after that. because when Pollux previously destroyed the floor of deck 6, that barrier was the only thing keeping the pool deck from plummeting down a few stories into deck 5's promenade.

mind the drop.]

-

[Undine’s quick-thinking bubbling of the pool water may save most from the impact of the floor, and of the massive stalagmites left over from Clarke and Rita earlier in the month, but it’s not always the drop that gets you. the destroyed floor is still, technically, there, raining down rubble, as well as anything that had been on the deck at the time of its collapse: deck chairs, tables, corpse parts, a minimum of three acme-brand baby grand pianos.

for a moment after the collapse, there is silence.]

[and then, it is broken by the sound of someone loudly drinking through a straw.

the Captain stands a few feet from where the upper deck had fallen to the one below it, sipping a boba tea.]

Fun party? [he looks over the devastation.] Looks like it was fun.

Six suppressed the urge to snort in humorless laughter at Dr. Salazar's statement. Pretty promises that would prove to be lies under pressure. Nothing new here.

He crossed his arms as he looked towards Holmes. "For the record, if you don't die in there, you will die if you try anything once that barrier drops. It might be safer for you in there in the long run."

He didn't like killing kids. Adults? That was easy. And unlike Dr. Salazar, he wouldn't hesitate just because Holmes was wearing Dr. Watson's face.

Mara laughs, cold and unfeeling. "So what? If I don't fight back you're just going to sit there and piss yourself?" Wow. The kids on this ship are a lot less murderous than she's used to and she's killed one or two of them. Probably more. On their excursion anyway.

"Fuck off already, kid and let me get to what I gotta do. She's clearly not that important to you." She takes a step back to see how it goes. "Anyway. Nice chat. I'm gonna get back to it."

By your standards? An absolute blast. I don't suppose we could get some help cleaning everything up?

[Johnny's down in the water, looking exhausted. Somehow, the blood on his arms doesn't seems to be washing off at all.]

"Do you-- do you have any idea what I have experienced?" Holmes says in a sudden snarl. He turns away, flicking the butt of the cigarillo to one side. "Do you know what it is to exist as we have? You cannot conceive of the Hell--"

He cuts himself off with a derisive snort, and tries again, more levelly, but the strain in his voice is evident, and he looks suddenly very, very haggard. "I want to live. I want a body, even if it is not my own. I want Watson in reach when I need him. That is all I want, all I have ever truly wanted. Surely that isn't outside of the bounds of reasonable selfishness? Can a man not have even that much?"

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

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cw: necrophilia-adjacent

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1/2

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just another manic drivebyyy

2/2 - EVENT END

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