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

[sabigoe]

[ Whoever's in front of her is absolutely correct on what she's about to do. The moment that she's propped right in front of... Clarke, this body's mind informs her of the name, as well as the earliest memory of this girl vomiting at the camp, the rotten stench, and how Fio tried to help her with a glass of water. Wow, gross!

Immediately, her insane smile unwavering, Mary swings her knife to go in for the stabbing with as much physical strength she can muster. Only to have her little hand slapped away. Then again and again and again, swinging madly and never stopping. The smile fades, shifting into frustration, her teeth grinding together hard.

Then she hears it. ...Bairn? Who else calls her that? Her knife swinging slows down, eventually coming to a complete stop.

...

...

A long stretch of silence. She is shockingly calm suddenly. For now. ]

Waaaait a minute. Who are you? Do you know Ivar? [ A pause. Then she asks, in a demanding tone, that almost sounds like she's going to start flailing that knife again: ] WHERE'S IVAR?

[skaikru]

( clarke griffin's main memories and bullet points regarding fio are: adorable, kind, great hugs that make her want to cry harder than anything else, and should be protected. and like, 80% of that lines up with his own sentiments regarding mary, so he doesn't parse much deeper. the face is wrong and he'll mourn that in time, but the spirit prevails. you know that feeling when you hold a feral kitten by the scruff and it just keeps trying to scratch you even after you've decided you love it? this moment is not unlike that.

sailors in high storms don't trust the calm of the eye that envelops them. and likewise, ivar keeps a ready palm raised in the event mary reinstates the game of keep away between her knife and his borrowed torso. but also takes the moment to just smile at her: still too much teeth, and a lot of black blood mixed with split oozing between them, but nicer than he'd leered at everyone else so far. )

Guess.

( sure, they absolutely have time for this here and now. )

[sabigoe]

[ They do have time to talk and she won't let anyone get in the way of this important conversation. Or what seems like a fun little guessing game to her. Though she finally stops waving her knife at "Clarke", she's still on high alert. She whirls around with a snarl as someone else nearby runs past, ready to fight-- just a frightened passenger, who she can deal with later.

Only two weeks had she been forced to put on the act as "Fio". Various factors caused a lot of frustration to build up in that time. It's so freeing to let loose now! She keeps her knife-wielding arm to the side, swaying it around like she has so much pent up energy to exert. ]

Guess? Gueesssss...? [ Hmm, hmm...! The smile seems almost familiar, despite being on a different body. There aren't many from her time on the ship that were kind to her... or that she considered a friend. ] Ahaha, are you Ivar?

[ Her tone is playful, making it sound like it's a joke guess. ]

[skaikru]

( well, the best jokes are steeped in either righteous philosophy or poignant truth. so this joke guess is downright hilarious in how spot on and instantaneous it is, and thus he smiles at her even... softer. )

Always knew you to be a clever one. Keep your arm up and tight — ( that swinging knife wielding arm gets a light smack around the elbow, reproachful like a teacher yet playful like he'd been with his brothers once upon a time.

and now finally onto the reason he'd flagged (dragged) her down in the midst of a stabbing spree. vance has undoubtedly already moved on, the issue being he'd done so without additional holes made fresh in his torso. ) — and do not let any of them pass you by unscathed. In, twist, and out at an angle.

( temporarily abandoning defense and just hoping mary doesn't stab at him again, ivar mimes the gutting motion into the air with empty hands and all the vehement vengeance of one lost in the nothingness for far too long. )

[sabigoe]

...Ivar? [ A pause. She gives him a surprised look as if to ask, "for real?" Then she's grinning again: ] Ivar! You're a girl?

[ Wow, they could be like... sisters or something now!

No, Mary doesn't stab at him again. Thankfully. The smack on her arm gets her to shockingly, pause for a moment, listen to his instruction before making any further remarks. Her eyes track fleeing, terrified passengers scattering off into the distance. It's not as satisfying when she stabs at nothingness. But for practice, she raises her knife up in the air, mimicking the same motions as he'd just shown her. Arm up, tight, and then-- ]

In. Twist. Out! In. Twist. Out! [ At an angle. Chanting repeatedly, like it's a fun little song. The words are spoken, over and over again, and gradually quicker. Easily worming into her mind. Eventually she stops, bursting out in a delighted laugh. ] Hehehe!

[skaikru]

( ugh. don't remind him. apparently it's time for some 800AD style sexism intermingled with a fierce respect for blonde women that stems from a culture that praises shieldmaidens and a wealth of mommy issues but — ivar briefly looks down at his own torso with a mild grimace. the gods giveth working legs, but the gods are known to be tricksters that have also saddled him with tits. well... like 1.5 tit, this is the first time he's truly looked at the hole blown in clarke griffin's chest by genis sage's spirit bomb talisman, and it's a mess.

but this body is still infinitely better than being steeped in nothingness, and he'd decidedly allow mary to call him sister if she liked.

he watches her repetition of his instruction with an idle sort of glee; she's always taken pointers well enough when it included bloodshed. ivar's smile is unmoving and unchanging, and he lifts both hands to bracket mary's face like parents do their children in efforts to comfort, like brothers do for each other in camaraderie, like soldiers do when splattered with blood and celebrating victories on the battle field. )

Exactly, ( he says, then drops his left hand and uses his right to give a gentle shove. an affectionate go on, get outta here kid sort of blessing. ) Be vicious, be ruthless. I know you're more than capable.

[sabigoe]

[ Likewise, Mary curses her current form, it's at least closest to her original self in age. Better than being trapped in the abyss as well. The strength is unfortunately severely lacking. When she strikes her next target, she knows she's going to need to put forth as much strength as she can muster. Right now, she's getting carried away with her repetition, swinging at the air. Thankfully she stops, as soon as she feels Ivar's hands clasping around her face.

She pauses, lowering her knife, giving him a genuine smile and another giggle.

One of the very rare moments during her entire two weeks on the ship that she shows an innocent smile, free of any sort of malice. The only other person that might have seen this smile might be Omori. For once, it's an expression that properly fits her current look, somewhat. Though maybe it's a smile far wider with more teeth than Fio would normally make. It's a strange sight, in the middle of a chaotic, bloody battlefield...

Then as he gives her a shove, she starts jogging off. For a few moments, she looks back at Ivar, giving him one final glance. One final smile goodbye. Then shifts her gaze forward, returning on her hunt. After everything is over, it would be nice to call him sister for real. ]