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

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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!

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( On Castor's side, the tumble down is smooth—not so dexterous that he can prevent the other from rising, but enough so that he doesn't waste time in getting to his own feet as they find their way back to the ground. It's bold of the other to challenge him—to mock him further when he cannot do something as simple as keep himself aloft, and Castor can only bring himself to scoff at the foolishness. )

Why should I?

( This is more than enough to deal with an imposter who, truly, is no more than a bug underneath Castor's heel in terms of his power. Despite the circumstances, and despite the body he's in, Castor's opponent has none of the skill nor finesse required to efficiently command that which is at his disposal. No—as things are now, even without Pollux at his side, he alone seems to be more than enough to deal with this pathetic whelp. He steps closer, and at his side, his starlight discus materializes again, hovering just past the tips of his fingers. )

Even in the vessel of a god, that power is wasted on the likes of you. Do you really believe that this is all he is capable of?

( Castor sneers. )

But if you are really so desperate, then I will show you, pathetic vermin that you are, why you do not steal from the gods.

( And when he moves again, it's near-faster than the human eye can see. Perhaps Shi Qingxuan's can, however, and the imposter may get an instant's warning as Castor positions himself behind the other, intending to bring his leg up in a kick that would be strong enough to shatter a human's ribs. )

[ He doesn't want to die. He doesn't want to die again, and Shi Qingxuan's body won't stop shaking.

He hates this, he hates Castor, and the more be listens to him, the stronger the rage behind his eyes burns. ]

What do you know?!

[ It's an automatic, snapped response, even as Castor flashes from before his eyes. He can track the movement, sort of—but even not being able to see it, he can guess where Castor is going. He wants to kill him, but he won't even look him in the eyes as he does it? Genis won't let him!

Genis was, admittedly, expecting the discus hovering at Castor's fingers to be swung at his neck when he, very gracelessly, dove to the ground and rolled over onto his back. The blur of his leg swiping in the space he once occupied comes as a complete surprise.

...He was going to kick him and crush him?

He wasn't even planning to just execute him and get it over with?

Even knowing he's the one in the wrong here, even wholly understanding why Castor is doing this, hatred still flares to a boiling point when that realization dawns on him. All sense of reason has long since been worn away - had been long before entering Shi Qingxuan's body - and it's too late to turn back now even if it hadn't. ]

Vermin, huh?

[ He already knows he's outmatched; Castor's right, he never figured out how to do most of what the original owner of this body could do, and he's not using it half as well, either.

But even knowing he's going to die at least once here, he's not going to die to someone like this without a fight. He's already gathered the spiritual power in his hand, and at least this ability of the Wind Master's is familiar enough to use. ]

Get lost!

[ It's not with super human speed, and it isn't with a flashy, cool move, but the blast of energy he shoots at Castor's gut is brighter and stronger than any of the minor explosions created by the talismans he crafted before. And right now, it's the strongest Genis can muster in his position. ]

( His leg fails to find its target, and Castor scowls at the realization, an icy gaze following Shi Qingxuan's body to where it cowers on the floor in front of him. It doesn't matter how pathetic a display he makes; Castor will remain undeterred in his decision—or rather, his responsibility to put an end to this possession. What he doesn't expect, however, is that this pitiful fool hasn't yet given up on his attempts to protect his miserable life. Perhaps that's why he doesn't move to dodge, taking the beam of pure, spiritual energy as a direct hit.

When the light clears, a hole is visible going all the way through his stomach.

Castor stumbles back a step. His free hand comes up as if to cover a cough before he curls forward, blood spewing from his mouth and against the back of his gauntlet. The discus still spinning slowly underneath his other hand begins to wobble, and Castor finds himself staring at the blood momentarily, as if in shock. )

Edited (ICON...) 2022-10-29 21:58 (UTC)

[ ... He did it.

He actually got a shot in on him.

Genis stares in wide-eyes shock as blood spills from Castor's mouth, but his eyes are only drawn to the hole torn through his stomach. He really didn't think he would do that much damage... Castor is a god, so how can he get hurt like that?

If Castor were anyone else, the sudden burst of regret and sympathy in his chest would stick.

But Castor is his enemy, and if not for the fact he needs his body, he'd destroy him.

Any remorse he has is tucked away deep, deep down as Genis stands up again. Castor doesn't have a divine aura of protection like Shi Qingxuan's body, and remembering that, Genis pulls Pollux's paper crown from his sleeve and places it on his own messy head.

...it's a strange feeling. This is from Castor's sister...but when this is over, the two of them will be together again. And then he'll see his sister again, too. What does he have to regret?

He still can't go anywhere, though he does take a few steps back. He can't kill him to save himself, and he can't risk turning tail and running when his enemy is still breathing. So, he watches, and begins gathering Shi Qingxuan's spiritual power in his hand again just in case.

Genis takes a breath, and shakily mumbles: ]

...Jerk. You don't even know what you're talking about.

( If his opponent is shocked by his own strength, consider Castor doubly so. It isn't that he doubted Shi Qingxuan himself would be capable of something like this, though he would never have allowed it to happen had it not been for underestimating his enemy, but for this brat to pull off something of this caliber... The indignation of allowing this to happen to him causes his anger to reach a boiling point. )

You insolent—

( Castor's voice breaks off as more blood spills down his lips, chest heaving. There's so much bloood—dripping down his chin, his wrist, and spilling from the place where his stomach should be like a waterfall. The lattermost, at least, he can do something about though. Concentrating the magical energy in his body to slow the bleeding as much as is possible, and reaching out through the magical paths that connect him to "Natsuno" for the power he needs to staunch the wound.

But he doesn't go down.

No, despite it all, despite the impossibility of it, Castor remains standing. His near-choking on his own blood, tips of his fingers trembling, and even his legs feel unsteady underneath him, but he remains on his feet. He spits some of that blood to the side before meeting with "Shi Qingxuan's" eyes, and if Genis thought that he looked manic before, the expression Castor wears now is downright possessed by pure animosity. )

You would injure... My divine body?

( Castor takes an uneven step forward. )

[ To Genis's credit, he doesn't back away even further when Castor approaches. His throat feels dry as he watches impossible amounts of blood pour from Castor's body, staining his clothes and skin as he begins to advance on him. Castor might insist he's a god, but his pain is still real—

But he's still human. He's still a human that looks down on him like he's an inferior creature. He still hates him.

Genis's voice is loud and unwavering as he calls back stubbornly: ]

Yeah, I do! Because my friend needs it, and I'm not letting you keep it!

[ Why does he get to have his sister here? Why does he get to just go out and have fun with her? Why does he get to have it so easy here?!

It's not fair.

Genis takes a breath and shifts his feet as if preparing to dart. Killing is off the table, but he still has to disarm him. Even covered in blood, his gauntlet is still there, whole, shining, and undamaged. If he can just get under it, then the muscle and skin of his arm will rend the same as his stomach.

In a number of ways, spiritual power is nothing like mana. In other ways, it's actually surprisingly similar when the one producing it is attuned to a familiar element. With a little modification...

Genis smiles, and it's like when Shi Qingxuan says that he's going to throw the Dioscuri a party - proud and confident - even as he swings out with his hand and sends a flurry of Shi Qingxuan's spiritual power spiraling towards Castor. The series of sharp, cutting blades of wind look white in the fog surrounding them, fluttering around before twisting and wrapping around the arm he had held his discus in, tearing and cutting as they spin.

The overall scale is small, only focusing on Castor's forearm - the spell isn't refined, and the amount of power is less than Genis wants - but it's focused and concentrated, and most importantly, it's more than a single once-and-done blast. If he plans to cut through the muscles of Castor's arms, he needs at least that much. ]

( So he thinks he can have this body, does he? That's bold, but it's underestimating Castor. It's a battle of kill or be killed here, and Castor will stop at nothing until the one in front of him is dead. After all, even as a human, he would still remain a Spartan prince. A representation of those values of bravery who fights without fear and to the last man. He wasn't trained by the sage Chiron so that he could continue to drag Pollux down, after all; no matter how he may be injured, or how the odds may be against him, he will not show fear. It's nothing but pure, palpable rage at the audacity this brat has to think that he can overcome a true god, controlling their own body as he fumbles with that of another. Even as there's a determination behind those words that one almost has to respect.

His body is too weak, and the task too urgent for him to respond properly, but even so... )

Heh...

( It's "Shi Qingxuan's" turn to pay for underestimating his opponent. As the wind, sharp and ruthless, effortlessly shreds through the muscle and ligaments of his right arm, it's his left that Castor pulls back, using it to direct the discus behind him and motion as if to hurl it towards his opponent. His right arm hangs limp at his side, and perhaps Castor won't get the opportunity to gloat his victory over the one who has wronged both himself and the true Shi Qingxuan, but right now... that's not important. Right now, it's his responsibility to ensure that this body can do no more harm to those that Shi Qingxuan cared about—to put an end to this here and now.

The light of the discus is blindingly bright as it speeds towards the imposter. )

[ He doesn't even get the time to fully enjoy the way he was able to manipulate Shi Qingxuan's power to create a real spell when Castor's left arm pulls back, and the weapon he had been dreading appears at its fingers.

The smile falls from his lips as he stumbles back a step, arms rising to shield his face. It's too fast to dodge, and the shining light of the discus is too blinding to track with his eyes. The discus cuts through the air towards him, and even as the light of Pollux's crown falls over him like a veil, the protection that covers him is only Pollux's--and maybe if Pollux knew what was happening now and who her gift was shielding him from, he wouldn't even have that much.

Shi Qingxuan's divine aura is a buffer, not an impenetrable shield. Between the might of Castor's weapon and the strength of Genis's defenses, the starlight discus only stops short of cleaving Shi Qingxuan's body in two as it draws a vicious slash across it. The lights meet each other, tempering and fighting each other, yet the end result is all the same:

Genis screams - loud enough to be heard from across the pool deck - as blood floods from the long cut running from his right hip and up to his left arm where it's shielded his face. Maybe without the shields, the wounds would be deeper. With the shields, Genis still falls to his knees and brings his trembling right arm down to try to stanch the bleeding in his chest. It does very little; the cut on his left arm is deep to the bone, and the front of Shi Qingxuan's pure white robes grows a deeper and deeper scarlet. ]

Aah-

[ Crying won't change anything, a cold, familiar voice reminds him, yet tears still streak down his face behind his wide, blood-stained sleeve, gasping through the pain.

Maybe, if he falls over here and pretends to die, Castor will leave him alone. If he bleeds out, that's good. If his soul leaves this body, then someone else will take it--and if it's Martel that takes it, then even if he doesn't come back, Mithos won't be sad. But if he dies immediately right here, then he's just failed everyone.

This...probably is the best thing he can do here.

There's a pause, and then with no ceremony, Genis crumbles in on himself, face to the ground. ]

( There's no feeling of triumph as the brilliantly sharp blades of the discus tear through skin and through to bone. Even as Castor watches the familiar red spill forth, it lacks the glory of a battlefield; this is no heroic feat of war, after all. It's a tragedy all its own. Castor's face doesn't reflect this fact however, sneering even as "Shi Qingxuan" collapses to the ground in front of him.

It's unfortunate, but it's a lesson that the other needed to be taught. )

That's what I thought.

( Now... Castor's already paid dearly for underestimating this rat once; don't expect him to make the same mistake twice. Instead, as he closes the distance between himself and the body before him, he keeps his discus turning at the tips of his fingers as the footsteps come closer. Just as it seems they've come to a stop, Genis will feel the heel of Castor's sandal dig in sharply behind his shoulder blade, forcing him further into the blood, both his and Castor's, pooling underneath him.

Still, even as the discus turns underneath the palm of his hand, ready for that brilliant shine to pierce his opponent's body and put an end to this once and for all, it isn't as if Castor has forgotten earlier. Call it the mercy of a god, but with his foot remaining firmly planted against "Shi Qingxuan's" back, he'll offer one last opportunity to repent. )

If you have any last words, say them now.

Ah!

[ This body doesn't have a high pain tolerance, and at this point, neither does Genis. Warm blood pools against his cheek and seeps between his lips, and in Shi Qingxuan's body, the difference between his own and Castor's is nonexistent. Even when his tears mix in with it, it's still all the same.

It's too late to ask for mercy. There's still energy left to get one last good hit in on Castor - maybe shred his leg a little so he'll have to limp away - but the will to do so is gone, along with most thought beyond the paralyzing knowledge that death is imminent, and he's going to die like this: alone and under the heel of someone who despises him, with barely the hope that Castor will bleed out from his injuries so this wasn't for nothing.

He's not strong like Mithos (or Lloyd...), who never gave up. He's not even strong like his sister, who knew death was coming but still accepted it with a determination that it wouldn't go to waste. The muscles of his back spasm and shake beneath Castor's foot, his back failing to rise as he gasps for breath through his sobs. ]

Sis...

[ I'm sorry.

Please come back.

You promised you'd come back.

Even if Castor waits for more, that's all he has to say. ]

( There's a long pause after the word leaves his lips—Castor is, in fact, waiting for more. He may be cruel, and especially compared to Pollux, but if that's how it started... he would at least offer the opportunity to finish what there was to be said for her.

There's nothing more to be said though, and as Castor exhales, short and sharp and tired, he takes no joy in the way his discus tears into flesh and bone. Nor does the way blood sprays up, staining what little of Castor's apparel may still have remained white, give him any satisfaction.

It's a necessary evil.

That's the unfortunate fact of the matter, so far as he's concerned. For the sake of the real Shi Qingxuan. For the sake of Pollux. For the sake of the other passengers aboard this ship who would not have survived the encounter that Castor exchanged with this opponent. He feels no remorse for his own actions, or the necessity of neutralizing a threat like this. Even so...

It would be a lie to say that that childish sobbing won't be staying in his mind for days to come. )

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

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