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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And Daisy doesn't have a clue. Even if she'd bothered to tap deeper into Crabb's memories for this, she wouldn't find what she needs, would she? Not beyond casual mentions of training, things easily written off.

The scissors hit their mark dangerously close to her throat and Daisy's snarls only get louder. She grabs for his arm, his wrist, trying to wrench it around, still focused on getting those damned scissors out of his bloody hands. At the same time, she hooks a leg around his knee to try and drag his own support out from under him.

"Listen to that, crying for that bitch like it matters! She's not going to save you! No one is going to save you! Like no one saved us!"

( The ghost remembers what you called her, what you did to her work, and more importantly-- how you refused to give her friend Omori back.

And it's coming back to finish that fight. Oh yeah, and what about Rich? Well, there is a chance to join up with him, Darcy! )

( It had taken her so much willpower to restrain herself the last two weeks, trying to stick to the role of "Fio", being the same perfect little angel that she was. Those past few weeks, the others had been getting caught left and right. Omori was caught. Then there was the explosion, especially the fire... she hated the fire.

Restlessness built up quickly. Everyone's lucky she didn't snap early. That would have caused so much trouble. All the accumulating frustration unloaded onto Fio's dumb little teddy bear until it wasn't full of fluff anymore... )

[ Several feet away, Mary, in the angel dress that she had chosen for the party, watches Darcy from behind. To her side, she holds a steak knife, swinging it unsteadily in annoyance as she stares upon her armored target. A miracle that she hasn't gone off screaming and hacking away mindlessly.

Fine. She manages to keep herself calm enough, for a few seconds, to consider trying a different approach.

The white stuffed dragon, Fio's doll, Calcite, flutters in midair next to her side. She doesn't have to make a verbal command. Just simply will it to shoot.

And doll "breathes" in, lifting its head back, charging up a large orb of elemental Light energy... ]

He's scared and he doesn't want to admit it. He's torn between his human side and his ghost side and he doesn't want to admit that, either. But Chrissy's a friendly face, someone who enjoyed spending time with him at the arcade earlier.

How the hell did a prick like him get so many people willing to come and help him out?

"I...I don't know what to do, Chrissy," he says, face in hands, "I finally have a fight and I don't know what to do with it."

[ Darcy yelps and just barely raises an arm in time to stop the smoke machine from beaming her directly in the face- her shitty fake plate armour dents, and she can feel the dent has cut into her arm. Goddamnit- ]

Cranky because it's working, aren't you-

[ She backs up a little further- she can't take off the gorget alone, so she's unfortunately still struggling to get- her fucking fingers- on the chain- ]

The Exorcist is a classic, your taste just fucking SUCKS-

[ Almost got it- ]

When the evil speech started, Erin went back to her natural size. Her natural shape, on the other hand, would require spending power she now needs to Fucking Conserve, so six-plus feet of fucking Smurfette, knife in hand, wet dress clinging to her body, lunges through the crowd trying to look for -

Johnny's voice gets her attention immediately. Of course Daisy picked him. Familiar prey, noncombatant, sweep him off the board and then she can join a fight that's not looking good for the damned. Perfect tactical sense.

Something in Erin's chest still wrenches, though.

The Fairest slips into the fight from behind. The knife flips in her hand, lunges for the space between Crabb's ribs -

(They're not Daisy's)

|Handle, for leverage|

And her left hand seizes at Crabb's hand for a painful wrist lock, to torque the arm straight.

"Welcome to the abundant world, sovereign."

[ Darcy's too busy. Too caught up in keeping an eye out for her other friends, too busy watching out for the other ghosts. She hadn't seen Fio, had presumed that it was too late at night for her to be up and at the party-

Which means when the orb of Light hits her, she's totally unawares.

Darcy gets launched across the bubble, smacking into the opposite invisible wall like Vance had so many weeks before. Her nose is definitely busted as she headbutted the barrier, and she's dropped her sword, her head fuzzy with what is definitely a concussion. ]

Fuck-

Wow he's... bad at this... why isn't he...

"You made your fucking choice-" same motion again, overhead strike, pushing him back with a sharp snarl.

"We're going to finish this. I let you go last time but these dead bitches won't be so lucky-"

Phil gasps as the steel bites clean through his wing--not taking it off, of course not, because of course she wanted to give him the dead weight, fuck, fuck, he's a moron--and he staggers, knees nearly giving way. The sweet metallic smell of his blood hits the air.

He doesn't have so much as a knife, but he knows that he wouldn't be able to use it against her anyway. A fucking icicle isn't going to do anything compared to that and he doesn't have the blunt force strength to hit the way he has to. By all means he needs to turn and run.

And he will, though resting squarely on top of the fear and the pain is petty, vengeful rage. For this. For the wound. For Maeve.

Phil has one merit: he's not afraid of shedding his dignity.

He hucks a snowball at her face and turns to bolt before he can see it land. At least this way, he can keep her away from everybody else for a moment.

And when Erin arrives, Johnny takes several steps back from Daisy, taking a few breaths. Making sure he's not substantially hurt.

And he's not, he's not hurt at all. The blood that's on his hands, it's not his. Much of it isn't Crabb's either, it's curse blood, fake blood. He's alright.

"Erin, do you have this?"

Shit, tell that to my agent before I kill you!

[she doesn't bother teleporting this time. she leaps, seconds before his impact, and hangs in the air for a moment before landing, cat-like, a few feet away.]

Okay, so, I've legitimately been wondering - how does that even work? Dicks don't have bones, so are you guys just scissoring in there or something?

[in case he is unaware, she makes a tribbing gesture with her fingers.]

Edited 2022-10-26 06:57 (UTC)

"Yeah, I made my fucking choice," he says, "And I'm warning you. back off or I'll kill you."

Every time he takes two steps backward, one forward, getting them closer and closer to where Friday's standing. He takes a good, hard swing at her now, wondering how good she is at this and if she can block it.

"Actually, I think I'll do it anyway. I'm gonna take your fucking head off."

His gaze flicks over to Friday, not Darcy, when he hisses out the last bit. C'mon, Darcy, please understand me.

Hahahaha... ohohoho...!

[ Cackling maniacally and so uncharacteristically coming out of... Fio? Mary, dressed in her angel costume, runs-- right past Vance, swinging her steak knife wildly into the air and looking for the squishiest person that she can assault. Flying stuffed dragon fluttering after the tiny girl...

And even if Vance isn't in his ghost form, well... she would STILL run right past him. Because he's on the bottom of her aggro list! Congratulations! Ghosts LOVE Vance! ]

[so idk what caliber we're dealing with here but it's probably way weirder to see it get absorbed by Friday's torso like she's the blob than the headshot was.]

Okay, seriously? Next bitch that tries to get cute with their bullets gets it launched back at them. I am least half confident that's something I could do.

"He-llooooo Captain!"

Look. Yakko's really more of a lover than a fighter. And this body apparently has absolutely nothing in the way of murderous capacity. But he has a mouth. And that's everyone else's problem.

"You know Blackbeard eventually gets his head cut off by the navy, and apparently his body swam around the ship three times before it stopped moving! Wild, huh! You'd think with a backstroke like that getting away from you would be nooo problem!"

She's not used to feeling the pain quite so keenly.

This body just isn't used to it. It's not used to taking injuries that no one should be able to stand back up from and doing just that. It doesn't have the touch of the Hunt that let her power through, let her turn the violence back around and come out the other side just fine.

The knife drives between her ribs and Daisy cries out, a raw, animal sound (another noise from Crabb's lips that doesn't sound right in her mouth, another flashing sign of how Wrong this all is) that chokes off as Erin grabs her arm, yanks it where she wants her.

Her voice is pained, her breathing strained. But she still bites back. "Oh shut— shut up with that sov-sovereign bullshit! You're just the same as us in the end! Look— look at you! Knife buried in someone you thought you were ki-kissing t-two weeks ago!"

"Hey, Phil!"

That's Ossie's voice, but not... Ossie's accent? And Ossie appears to be laying leisurely across the shoulders of a one-armed animatronic, that looks, somehow, sad, despite not having a face that can move.

"Think you can weather this one? What's the forecast for tonight, huh? I hate to rain on your parade, but there's a hundred percent chance of MURDER!!!"

"Oh I get it now! It's because you were under cover!"

Ossie's laying like one of 6's french girls across the shoulders of an animatronic pumpkin, waving an arm around lazily.

"That's almost a funnier joke than your love life!"

"I used to think like that too. Being the badass sucks, doesn't it?"

Erin pushes with the knife. Pulls with her hand. She should just end it here.

(...There's something else we need to say.)

"Come back sometime," she murmurs, soft. Gentle. "There's a kiss with your name on it, and a home that can love you."

"Sorry, Daisy."

|Stone, you know the deal.|

And Stone sayeth: Yeah, yeah.

The might of the living world ripples through Erin's muscles, and she tears Crabb's arm off at the shoulder in a fountain of blood. The jerk of the separation sends the arm flying off into the chaos, and the body off of her knife.

"I don't either." Her first thought was to run when it probably should have been to look for Eddie and Steve. She's seen the former around this evening and decided not to bother him for now, but Steve's absence bothers her more than it reasonably should, considering that they've only spoken a handful of times.

There are more important things to worry about right now, though. "What would you normally do with it?" Maybe she's not the best person to ask for advice on fighting, but he'd been nice to her before. More importantly, he'd been honest with her, so she wants to help if she can.

"Maybe we should try to find a way out of here."

[she's searching for Fio through the crowd, flickering through the the fog, and then there's bullets. one that passes through her harmlessly, and she doesn't stick around to figure out where it hit but instead to identify the source.

the drums make it extremely easy to track down Pickles, although at first she's not quite sure it's him. well, not Sharky anyway. not without the beard, and that... feels like a complete violation of her friend that hits her in a way that nothing else quite has.

so distracted at the party, Ava never checked her phone to read the final text Pickles sent. but it's no time for regrets nor sentimentality. she'll feel that later.

for now, she approaches him, eyes narrowed, and puts an end to his drumming by slicing right through his drum with her phase claws.]

You! Lied! To! Me!

"Yeah, fucking try it-"

That might be a nod, or she might just be moving her head. Lucky for Vance, Darcy is very good at this, and she parries the blow, counter-attacking with a hit that just barely shaves one of his curls off.

"I dare you."

"Jesus Christ!" Johnny is sprayed with blood, and...and he overhears Erin's words and...at this point, he's just going to...scramble away. He's not needed here.

That sight is going to haunt his dreams for a long time.

"MADDY! Maddy maddyyyy maddy Maddy maddy MADDY-"

Yakko bounds up to her, still waving around the animatronic arm.

"Lemme out! I need to get the piano from John's!! C'moooon!! I won't hit on you for a month!!"

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

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