come_sailaway | 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!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

After the world's rudest wake-up call, Jack's been heading out-

Look, doesn't matter where he was going because general explosions draw him to... the wrong part of the ship, sort of, look he can defend his directional choices later, the important part is he checks the promenade, sees the fucking state of the ceiling there, and as he's wondering if he should keep running for the next deck or not, it all collapses down.

Some lucky people are spared further falling debris as Jack grabs a few of the larger chunks of it with telekinesis, though Jack misses something that clonks hard against his head and he, uh. He lets go, which slingshots those pieces of ceiling deeper into the promenade somewhere. Possibly the infinite Spirit Halloween, sorry, his bad.

He catches himself on his knee and rubs his head while he waits for the stars to leave his eyes, and pulls his hand away to see blood?

Not his, it's too cold and sticky for that, but he follows the dotted line left behind whatever was rolling to see it's a severed head which, well. Not the first time he's been hit by a corpse, but at least he wasn't responsible for making this one this time.

But maybe he can prevent a few more.

So, Jack, regardless of whoever is talking right now, starts heading into the rubble and see what he can do, whether it's going to be uncovering people who need help or protecting people who are injured and getting them to whatever approximates safety right now.

Unless, of course, you're someone possessed looking at this big hunk of free real estate and think, 'yeah, I have a shot at that'.

Or some other reason to attack or yell at him or anything. It's not his first time picking through a collapsed shopping district, he'll roll with anything.

Siffleur leaves a party he never truly attended, the bottom of his homemade costume soaked with water, and the mask pulled off and discarded as soon as he left the scene. He deeply regrets not staying in the Spirit Halloween. It would have been nice to sleep through this. Though maybe it was worth watching all the chaos just so he could step on the shewolf.

For the first time since he got here, he really wants a smoke.

As he steps over the remains of various pool chairs, he comes across a late party-goer - heavily armed like he's about to go to war. Siffleur tenses up, and though he's tired from the last half-transformation, he sucks in a breath to get ready to make another. There was no tell for whatever derangement made the other humans attack each other, so he just stays where he is, ready to dodge behind cover if he must. But a second glance and he sees what look like supplies on the man's shoulder - and maybe they're medical ones. Maybe he's coming to help the others.

Still unsure how this one falls, he doesn't take his eyes off of the man, only giving a brief nod towards the 'party' behind him.

"It's mostly over. The old guy's here now."

Jack notices the guy coming towards him in a dishevelled costume, and while his mind tags him as a potential danger, it's not a huge distraction or deterrent to him in an area that is screaming danger at all sides. A collapsed deck, bodies that show sign of a fight long before they fell through the debris, the sounds of fights continuing amid the rubble. Jack keeps walking, intending only to react if the guy makes himself a problem-

But he speaks, and Jack stops and looks at him... and raises his eyebrow.

"The old guy?" he asks, of all the responses he could have.

"The one with the beard." Siffleur says, and moves his hand up to indicate a tighter, tidier beard than the one he has. "Wears a top hat. Showed up, everything ended."

The man in front of Siffleur is dangerous, no doubt from the way he holds himself. But he isn't a danger to Siffleur unless he reacts in an aggressive way. The scars all up and down the man's bare chest tell a story about the kind of fighting he's been involved with - brutal, even monstrous. Siffleur knows plenty of things that could leave most of the permanent marks on the man's body, but he can't name a single thing that would leave that swirling scar over the man's stomach.

Hmm. Siffleur shifts the way he's standing, moving from tense to obvious consideration. His eyes flick back up to the man's face. "You're a fighter. I'd like to try you sometime. Not now, later."

It's clear from the way Siffleur's looking at Jack that the meaning of 'try you' involves something other than a fight to the death.

The one with the beard? Jack takes in the description and holds it up against people he can recall offhand, but finds no matches. Apparently, whoever that was just appearing ended the fight? Must be important. Maybe... That's not the Captain, is -

Jack notices the shift in the man's posture, but not what it means, not until the tone of voice and the words click with the up-and-down look. Without realizing it, Jack takes a step back as he feels heat rise into his cheeks.

"What?" Jack asks, despite being able to take a good guess.

Siffleur does know how to be subtle, but he's found it rarely pays off to be indirect in these matters. He likes the look of this guy. Siffleur wants to know what twisted his outside up so badly that it left a spiral scar on his body. He wants to know if he can leave any of his own there to join them.

With a smirk, he makes his offer: "Come to the Spirit Halloween when you're ready. We'll fight, then fuck."

Jack opens his mouth but despite the movement of his jaw, he doesn't say anything. It takes him a few seconds to manage "Okay?"

It's the only thing his brain can spit out as he tries to understand that what's been said to him is what's being said to him.

"Okay."

With delight written all over his frame, Siffleur leaves the man to continue on his way to the messy remains of the party. He's ready to get back to the Spirit Halloween to sleep soundly... though he might make at least one more stop on the way.

After all, he doesn't want to be unprepared when the scarred man comes around.

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

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