(Untitled)

[simplyteasing]

WHO: Tyki Mikk | simplyteasing and Grell Sutcliffe | hesakillerqueen 
WHERE: Noah Mansion!
WHEN: 3am
WARNINGS: Blood and torture.
SUMMARY: Grell turned fabuu and killed some people. Tyki does not like his house to be dirty. Antics ensue.
FORMAT: Para.

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[hesakillerqueen]

There were things one could not do well when their gloves were wet and slippery soaked with blood. Opening windows was one of them. His hand had slipped three times while trying, and he'd been cursing whomever had decided that closing and latching the window to his room was a kind and thoughtful thing to do. When it had finally come open he'd wasted no time in climbing through silently, chainsaw leveled over his shoulder as if it were made of air, and slipping into the premises with every intention of cleaning off those blood smears across the window glass at some later point in time.

He froze, however, at Tyki's voice, and instinctively turned, even though dashing out the window would've been the more intelligent choice. It was true, he was soaked in the blood of a lovely young woman by the name of Annalise Williams - she'd screamed but once, before he could cut her throat with a kitchen knife (mainly he went for the vocal chords, tried not to kill her instantly because that would just be so boring) and set to work. It had been a

[simplyteasing]

Tyki Mikk was no fool. He saw facades in all people and naturally read those who wore masks as if they were standing naked before him, their hearts on their sleeves and their eyes open wide to their souls. He knew, almost on an intrinsic level, that the person standing before him was the true Grell, that this rather eccentric murderer was the puppet master behind it all. The frail, simpering butler he had hired was only a persona, a lie made real and given just enough personality to be believed in.

He hid his utter disappointment with a chuckle and leaned against the doorway leading into Grell's room, one forearm bracing him against the door sideway as the other dug itself into his pocket. It was an open, rather careless stance, as if he was daring the man to try and take a shot at him. He did so loathe duplicitous. It made everything one did cheap. Fake.

"Consider me fooled, then." he replied, voice satin-soft in the darkness, nearly a comfortable purr. He and Joyd both wanted, both hoped that Grell would attack him, would take him

[hesakillerqueen]

He was dripping, and on some level he was aware of this - it didn't help that ninety percent of Tyki's manor was white and easy to stain, either - but it wasn't at the forefront of his mind, not really. He was noticing the open stance, the near invitation to do what he did best. It wasn't malice against Tyki, whom he really owed quite a bit; it was just his nature to take people he was attracted to and wonder what they'd look like disemboweled. Sometimes he couldn't help but try - the last time had been when he was last discovered as something monstrous, actually. Maybe it was just the occasion

[simplyteasing]

Tyki sighed. They always came from the front. Always. It was almost as if creative thinking had died some short time after he had been born, its loss rendering everyone but the Noah incapable of thinking beyond the point of their blades, the rush of adrenaline coursing through their veins. Tyki rejected the world around him more on principle than necessity, really, choosing to instead watch Grell's chainsaw go through him and out the other side, its serrated edges biting deep into the wall beside them both, eating away at its frame. Tsk. That would be coming out of Grell's paycheck this month. Maybe even out of his hide, now