oh but my head is full of this terrible light, it attacks, i can't fight back
WHO: Khisanth, Batdick, Tim, and Kon
WHERE: Somewhere upstate New York
WHEN: Evening of the 31st!
WARNINGS: UH CHARACTER DEATH I GUESS it probably won't be all that gory though
SUMMARY: Fresh-from-jail-Khisanth captures Princess Timothy (and some NPC chick) to taunt Dick with, and Kon rudely crashes the party.
FORMAT: prose to start with, then quicklog??
She'd set it up all very carefully. Because, after all, she'd had a lot of time to think about it. The entire month-and-some she'd spent in the Superjail had been devoted to thoughts of revenge, and she'd had more than enough time to trace over Dick's conversations over the Network. To see who he spoke to. To see who he cared about. She's sure it's exactly what he'd been afraid of, when she'd realized he was Batman. She would have been willing to peaceably keep his secret, though. If he hadn't trapped her in her human form and thrown her into prison, that was.
The move had been a bit of a game-changer, but Khisanth took comfort in the knowledge that everything here today was Dick's own doing. If he hadn't lashed out against her, why, everything would have been fine. He'd brought this entirely upon himself.
She crouches like a giant shadowy cat above her two prone forms, weak and so pathetically human. Like she'd been. Like she wasn't anymore. She has a talon positioned carefully on the chest of each, one claw poised above each head, ready to drop and pierce a skull at a moment's notice. On her left, a young woman. Khisanth has no idea who she is, and couldn't care less. The unlucky victim had been plucked from the streets, picked solely for her resemblance to that woman Khisanth had had the night she'd run into Batman. A trickle of blood had leaked from her hair down the side of her face from when Khisanth had knocked her out, but she's otherwise fine. For now.
On her right is Tim. Tim Drake-Wayne, she's learned. She has no idea if he's one of those heroes as well (suspicion points to yes), but he's close to Dick. That's all that matters. The boy is somewhat more bloodied than the girl, but nothing serious. Nothing life threatening. No, Khisanth needs him to be perfectly alive and well for what she has planned. There's no fun in killing a boy that can barely scream, after all. Both she and Dick will get far more out of the experience if Tim begins this evening's activities in good shape.
Content that neither of her two prizes will be going anywhere, Khisanth lifts her bright orange gaze to the communicator, set up not far away. With a telepathic nudge, the recording begins. Khisanth speaks slowly and evenly, delivering her message with precision and care, and gives the thing another tiny telepathic nudge. It shuts the recording off, and then all she has to do is wait.
It's going to be a good evening. She can feel it.
WHERE: Somewhere upstate New York
WHEN: Evening of the 31st!
WARNINGS: UH CHARACTER DEATH I GUESS it probably won't be all that gory though
SUMMARY: Fresh-from-jail-Khisanth captures Princess Timothy (and some NPC chick) to taunt Dick with, and Kon rudely crashes the party.
FORMAT: prose to start with, then quicklog??
She'd set it up all very carefully. Because, after all, she'd had a lot of time to think about it. The entire month-and-some she'd spent in the Superjail had been devoted to thoughts of revenge, and she'd had more than enough time to trace over Dick's conversations over the Network. To see who he spoke to. To see who he cared about. She's sure it's exactly what he'd been afraid of, when she'd realized he was Batman. She would have been willing to peaceably keep his secret, though. If he hadn't trapped her in her human form and thrown her into prison, that was.
The move had been a bit of a game-changer, but Khisanth took comfort in the knowledge that everything here today was Dick's own doing. If he hadn't lashed out against her, why, everything would have been fine. He'd brought this entirely upon himself.
She crouches like a giant shadowy cat above her two prone forms, weak and so pathetically human. Like she'd been. Like she wasn't anymore. She has a talon positioned carefully on the chest of each, one claw poised above each head, ready to drop and pierce a skull at a moment's notice. On her left, a young woman. Khisanth has no idea who she is, and couldn't care less. The unlucky victim had been plucked from the streets, picked solely for her resemblance to that woman Khisanth had had the night she'd run into Batman. A trickle of blood had leaked from her hair down the side of her face from when Khisanth had knocked her out, but she's otherwise fine. For now.
On her right is Tim. Tim Drake-Wayne, she's learned. She has no idea if he's one of those heroes as well (suspicion points to yes), but he's close to Dick. That's all that matters. The boy is somewhat more bloodied than the girl, but nothing serious. Nothing life threatening. No, Khisanth needs him to be perfectly alive and well for what she has planned. There's no fun in killing a boy that can barely scream, after all. Both she and Dick will get far more out of the experience if Tim begins this evening's activities in good shape.
Content that neither of her two prizes will be going anywhere, Khisanth lifts her bright orange gaze to the communicator, set up not far away. With a telepathic nudge, the recording begins. Khisanth speaks slowly and evenly, delivering her message with precision and care, and gives the thing another tiny telepathic nudge. It shuts the recording off, and then all she has to do is wait.
It's going to be a good evening. She can feel it.