palfriday: (reflections in the waves)
Gal Friday ([personal profile] palfriday) wrote in [community profile] come_sailaway2022-10-25 11:20 pm

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!
not_the_last: (Default)

[personal profile] not_the_last 2022-10-26 09:45 pm (UTC)(link)
This doesn't have a chance of working. She knows that. This is a ghost, and a spellcaster, and inhabiting a body that isn't even her own; what is she going to do, with her long needle and her little knife?

(A remembered voice, smooth and dry with only a little bite: You've done well enough with them before, haven't you?)

A glance to where Darcy is still holding the line, with Bastion's assistance now, and she starts working her way sideways. She's not trying to get close to Monday, not yet; only trying to get a clear line of sight, without being noticed herself.

She's always been good at not being noticed.
not_the_last: (Default)

[personal profile] not_the_last 2022-10-27 02:16 pm (UTC)(link)
All Cassandra hears of that is hey, so, is your brother still before her mind whites out in combined terror and fury, and she moves --

-- whirl and thrust in a single motion, the rapier biting deep, her feet moving on their own to disengage and retreat before she consciously registers that the blow landed.

Run, advises the memory of her brother's voice, and she turns and runs.