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]

Oh! Oh my. Did she just manifest a protector? Is this the power of positive thinking?

Nellie's mouth quirks up into a smile as she weighs the object in her hands-- oh gosh, it's fair obvious what this is. "A sword, eh?" she says. "Been a while since I--"

don't say 'held a man's sword' don't say 'held a man's sword' don't say 'held a man's sword'

"--since I used one of these. But I think I remember. Sharp end away from me, right?"

[midnightroads]

"Ideally. Please try not to get killed, you and Crichton still need to have a talk."

There's a wry, playful amusement behind the words.

[theotherright]

Nellie looks down and covers her mouth with one hand a mere sliver of a second before a grin splits her face. Nothing to see here! Arthur's just a bashful little darling, she's certainly not cracking up on the inside.

"Oh, we had a chat earlier on," she says, in that toff accent of Arthur's, and she reflects that the stage lost its greatest star the day she was born to humble pie-makers instead of to the theatre. (Not that she'd be caught dead hobnobbing with actresses, of course. You've got to have some standards.)

[midnightroads]

"Yeah? How did that end up going?"

The suspicion-meter ticks up into the yellow zone. Let's...double-check.

"Did he end up apologizing to you?"

[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?"