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

[skaikru]

No, I need —

( the last time she'd seen jade curtiss properly, it'd been while he diligently escorted her to palamedes's cabin in the wake of rita's revival and subsequent rampage. she had been limping horrifically, skin blackened and raw with burns, and after a brief attempt at playing untouchable, unflappable hero had fisted a hand in the fabric of his sleeve and leaned on him like a crutch. he had believed her then.

last time she heard jade curtiss speak, clarke had her back to the wall behind the door of cabin 105 while (enter some gentle godmodding) jade and pal argued in clipped, professional, quiet tones of increasing frustration and anger in regards to another murder she hadn't committed. he didn't believe her then.

and this time, well... through the duration of the party she'd tried to avoid the man himself and his line of sight, same as she'd done for rita. and luckily, perhaps, both were drifting through the festivities like they hadn't a care in the world; neither looking for a fight. there was no not attending the end of month bash, and plenty of strategically placed, spooky shadows to dip into should either draw too close. three hours of milling about, people watching, being absolutely floored and upset in watching natsuno drink with ebalon and flirt with jinx; being told less than twenty minutes ago that he was very obviously possessed and having the last lines of defensive denial wiped away. puzzle pieces had begun to slot into place, highlighting cagey warnings from jade and pal alike. and she'd been working towards the courage and calm to confront the shell of her best friend proper when all hell had broken loose.

monday murdered jenny, the slip of paper tucked in clarke's shirt exploded, then monday murdered whatever replaced jenny. chaos struck up like a fevered crescendo of violin strings; there was magic, there was swordplay, there were animitronics still cackling and fog machines still putting out sickly sweet mist. there was blood, there was bloodloss; there were revenants shedding their restraints and passengers fighting for their lives. instant warzone, just add the strike of midnight.

then there's jade again, right in her path. and an internally screaming concern that he'd still be acting like none of this was suspicious or worrisome strikes, guides her to change coarse in this wild dash for cover and, once again, grab his arm. not being speared through the chest or shaken off immediately feels like a good sign, and she'll parse how that you weren't — was supposed to end later. right now there are two other pressing concerns taking the spotlight.

one (minor): she absolutely needed a healer, and was maybe slowly dying.

and two (major): they were all maybe going to die here, if the shotgun blasts and explosions and screaming was any indication. they needed to escape. )

— for you to bring down the barrier. Please, Jade, there must be something you can do.

[fonomena]

Bring down the--there's a barrier?

[Much as his head's all but spinning at the moment, memories true and false still vying for dominance all at once...it hadn't even occurred to Jade to try outright escaping the premises, of the violence breaking out every which way now. Yet this news, delivered in Clarke's pleading tones, does manage to properly pierce through the confusion at least somewhat; breaks down the resistance locking his legs in place, so that in the end he does follow Clarke's tugging to the perimeter of the area. The unhappy uncertainty on his features is still plain as they move--Clarke may have forcibly switched the gears of the subject, but Jade isn't quite so willing to let go of it yet. Finds about half a dozen different things he wants to say to her, welling up all at once. But...]

--Do we know the source, who or what is producing it? No, that--the speech, the start of all this. [Distractedly, Jade's answering his own question there almost at once.] It may be Friday--but not her. Whatever is possessing her. ...Clarke, what happened to you? Who attacked you?

[skaikru]

( he's moving and he's mentally quick as ever, now whatever's clouded his reason has seemingly been wiped clear. clarke doesn't even have to unglue her gritted teeth to point out friday — monday — still on top of the pool bar roof. she's just nodding aggressively until jade drags the hurried conversation back to her well being and clarke almost screams.

because it's not important! except... alright, maybe it is. )

No one outright. My fault, it's my fault. I took the protection talisman Qingxuan had at the meeting. ( took it, trusted it, didn't think twice about putting it in her shirt, had been prepared to use it to prove her innocence of possession when it'd mattered ten days ago. absolutely abysmal and short sighted, fucking stupid, she should have known better. )

And it blew up. But it doesn't matter, okay? I'm fine, we just need to get out of here.