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]

"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."