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

[saltwaterlungs]

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."

[chickenchoicejudy]

There's a small twitch, just enough movement for it to be clear that caught her by surprise. If this girl's anything like Sparkles though, she can't keep it up forever.

She glances up at Darcy, acting unbothered by this turn of events. Oh, you came up here to see her?

"Princess."

And with that, Catra pushes off the ledge and drops to the ground, landing on Ryan's feet.

"Pfft. Wow, it's easy to get under your skin." A head tilt. "Kinda pathetic, really."

[saltwaterlungs]

Darcy pursues her back down again, totally not corncobbing, mundanely dropping without teleporting.

"Uh, no it isn't, I'm just not a fucking princess."

... is that Ryan? Obviously the dude is possessed if they're having a... weirdly... flirty conversation, but wow that's... okay- process these feelings after- Darcy twirls her rapier in her hand and takes a step closer.

"Do me a favor and go quietly, ehn, kitten? It's already been a long night and I have people way further up my list whose asses I still need to kick."

[chickenchoicejudy]

"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."

[saltwaterlungs]

"Jesus-" she snaps, reeling backwards. There's something oddly unnervingly fluid about the way not-Ryan is moving, it's throwing her off, and she hates it.

"I'm not playing dress-up. C’est pour cela que je fus nais. Stop playing with your food."

Another tip from Erin; to let them come to you. She hates how useful her advice has been tonight.

[chickenchoicejudy]

There's a look of surprise that crosses Catra's face, not because of what she said but because her host apparently has memories of whatever that language is? It takes a beat, but then she snickers.

"You were born for this? You can't be serious. You actually believe that destiny garbage?"

Catra searches Darcy's face and then laughs.

"Oh no...you do. That's hilarious," she says. "Sooo which part were you born for? Being fuel for the Captain? Playing knights in this dump instead of your own life? Destiny doesn't mean a thing here. Whatever you were born for is back home. Without you."

What can she say? Playing with her food is fun.

[saltwaterlungs]

"It's a quote. From a saint who was martyred for fighting for what she believes in. It's who I'm dressed as."

Darcy swishes her sword out in front of her and takes a step forward with it still pointed down. Fool's stance, so they call it.

"I am here now for a reason. Right this moment, it's cutting you down. After that, it's stopping this. More broadly, it's getting us out of here. Either I win or I die trying. Failure is not an option."

Hey, maybe this would be a better vessel for Adora...

[chickenchoicejudy]

"Funny how that sounds more like you were born to die," Catra points out, twirling Ryan's wrist as she does. "Awful dramatic, don't you think, Darcy?"

It took a bit, but she finally found the memory where Ryan and Darcy introduced themselves, after joking around about some dumb fake creature. She'll still pretend like she was saving that reveal for now though, to drop in conversation at just the right moment.

"Failure is your only option," she says. "In case you haven't noticed? We outnumber you, and there's more of us coming."

[saltwaterlungs]

Unfortunately it doesn't land. Obviously Ryan knows her name, and it's been established that the ghosts know what their hosts know. Sorry Catra.

"Memento Mori. Nobody gets out of this alive, even if we weren't here. The only constant in life is death."

Of course she's dramatic. She's goth and Catholic. They're synonyms.

"What matters is what we choose to do while we're here."

And with that, Darcy launches suddenly into a slash, aiming for Catra's face.

[chickenchoicejudy]

Catra has plenty she could say to that, but she doesn't get the chance. She doesn't have her sharpened senses in this body, and she expected that monologue to go on a beat longer.

The sword doesn't just slash Ryan's face open - the diagonal cut slices right through the bridge of his signature glasses, snapping them in half. They clatter to the ground and Catra staggers back and howls, holding the wound. Blood streams down. She makes noises with Ryan's vocal chords that a human really shouldn't be able to make.

That doesn't last long though. She looks at Darcy and growls so viciously, teeth bared. She drops down into a crouch and kicks off with her bare feet, lunging for Darcy's throat.

This isn't a fight she can possibly win. She's unarmed against a sword, doesn't even have her claws, and suddenly she can barely see. But every move she makes is fierce and desperate.

No more games. Either she wins, or she dies trying.

[saltwaterlungs]

Again, Darcy steps to the side, as Erin had done to her. Unlike Erin, Darcy punishes the lunge with a slash to the back of Catra's leg. It's hard to remain cold here but she has to be, can't let herself get baited into making a mistake.

"Honestly I expected better for all your talk," she muses as she rounds to where Catra has fallen.

"But the mouthy ones don't usually have the walk to back up the talk."