[THREAD] HEAVEN for the weather, HELL for the company

[striginae]

Who: Kengamine Nagi [ striginae ] & OPEN
Where: Elysium ; junction between residential and shopping districts
When: Mid-evening
Summary: The world's not quite fair, is it? Not fair for anyone -- not for Owl, broken, beaten, insane -- and not fair for you, either, any of you in his way.
Rating: R for violence
Other: Nagi is generally going through the

Comments

[anachronize]

Ever since the new year's celebration had gone horribly awry, Grell had been granted full, unrestricted access to both his Death Scythe and the city of NeoGenesis. He'd been warned against abusing both, but William had said nothing about having a little fun, had he? Grell grinned as he leapt from rooftop to Elysian rooftop, scythe in hand, exhilarated by the feeling of the wind in his flowing red hair. Freedom. He hadn't been given free reign like this in so long he'd almost begun to forget what it was like.

Piercing screams broke Grell's reverie as he leapt another building - he came to a graceful halt at the next rooftop and peered down at the street below to observe the scene unfolding. Blood. So much pooling, splattered, brilliant, beautiful red blood, highlighting the pristine streets of NeoGenesis' upper crust - it was a magnificent sight, like a fine painting in progress. Grell flipped a stray lock of crimson hair over his shoulder and chuckled. "Gorgeous," he murmured, breathless, and nimbly leapt down to a lower

[striginae]

This carnage, this violence, this feral brutality -- it was, in a way, a vicious cycle. Too many screams that tore through his thoughts and fueled his hatred, aggravating the last lingering traces of drugs that infected his veins -- and the murders he committed, wracked by these shrieks, only brought on more horror, more blood, and endless scenario that he wanted to do away with completely. (Kill everyone here. Show no mercy, because they didn't get any. What makes you so much better than them, for you all to have survived this far?)

And then, a sudden movement, out of the corner of his vision -- but not at ground level. Too large to be an animal, and far too fast. Still kneeling on the ground over a desecrated corpse that he'd torn apart in blind rage, Nagi whirled around to face the figure on the roof, streaks of blood immediately starting to circle him. Forming circles of red. Limbs tensed, nerves on end, eyes narrowed behind the mask into a glare, lips curved back in the beginnings of a snarl. (Who are you?)

[anachronize]

Grell grinned wider at the bloodbath on the street below - whoever was responsible for this spectacle was vicious, and that was something Grell found absolutely delightful. The terrified screams of Elysium's denizens rang through the air like a symphony, all pain and panic. Grell couldn't have asked for a more perfect start to the new year.

Oh, and the conductor, the maestro of this massacre - it appeared he'd taken notice of Grell. The shinigami grinned anew and leapt down another rooftop level to approach the master at work and offer his accolades.

"Darling!" The clear lilt of his voice sliced easily through the cacophony of screams. "I've been watching you! You're quite the artist here, aren't you? Color me impressed."

[striginae]

Words, spoken in a crooning voice that grated against his nerves. Though Nagi's expression changed little behind the mask, the orbs of blood circling him bristled, tendrils of blood spiking and writing -- clearly hungry for more violence.

And he continued to watch this other figure drawing near. Knowing, instinctively, that this was different. Something odd, something strange -- something that was fundamentally off.

Several half-dead figures crawled at his feet, writhing in their last moments, but not that it mattered. A low hiss -- then a swipe of the hand through the air. And a barrage of bloody orbs went streaking through the air, aiming to bring down this newcomer.

[anachronize]

Grell saw the spheres hurtling toward him, and instinctively leapt out of their direct range with a tiny sigh - The poor dear. He must be so confused. Grell's sympathetic rumination was cut abruptly short, however, by the blast of the orbs' impact against the building.

The shinigami hadn't been expecting that, and he was knocked off his feet by the force of the explosions. He landed hard, and his scythe, knocked loose from his grip, skittered across the rooftop a short distance away. Grell blinked, and chuckled as he calmly climbed to his feet again.

"Darling, it's not very nice to attack your admirers - especially a lady." Grell dusted off the arm of his scarlet wool frock coat, now marred with charred streaks. His red-stained lips twisted downward into a slight frown. "I just bought this coat, too."

[striginae]

Agile movements. But no invulnerable to explosive impacts. Then, the instinctive wariness he felt towards this man had been needless? Analyzing this newcomer with a way that was entirely cold and entirely brutal, Nagi continued to stare up at the rooftop.

His hatred towards anyone alive most certainly applied to this person as well. But ascending to a rooftop -- a waste of time. The mask obscuring the upper half of his face, he looked eerily impassive, expression a blood-stained blank, as he maintained the concentrated stare at this strange figure.

Then, without hesitation, the slashing gesture of fingers the the air -- sending a thick barrage of red orbs to close in on the other from all directions.

[anachronize]

Grell quickly slunk across the rooftop to retrieve his scythe, keeping one eye trained on the figure below for movement. It was reasonable to assume that someone who would assault a lady wouldn't give up after the first wave of attacks, after all. Scythe in hand, he turned back to face the assailant on the street below just in time to see the second round of explosive spheres headed his way, and Grell leapt back up to a higher rooftop, compensating for the impact radius of the blast this time.

"You're beginning to try my patience, my dear." Grell's voice, still calm, now had a sharper edge to it as he called out from atop the building. The shinigami slung his free arm around the flagpole and dangled lazily off to the side, grinning. "Are you quite sure that's something you want to do right now?"

[striginae]

The only answer Nagi gave was a low growl -- an odd sound crackling with static, warped and distorted by the strain the synthesizer was put under given the dried blood and bile thick in his throat. And the feeling was back, the feeling that this person was something more than human. Something different. Strange. Wrong. (But what does it matter? It doesn't. Human or not -- it's all the same. Why does he deserve such a life that she never got?)

It only took a single, well-placed explosion to blow the flagpole out of the side of the building -- and it was chased directly afterward but a stream of red spheres, all aimed at destroying this man.

[anachronize]

Grell had begun to find these attacks rather tiresome; on the next volley of explosions aimed his way, the shinigami leapt gracefully from the rooftop and landed on the street level below. Grell drew himself back to his full height and flipped a long lock of hair over his shoulder with a flourish.

"You disappoint me, darling." He took a step toward the masked figure in front of him, chainsaw blade of his scythe brandished. "Such a pity. I really do enjoy your work."

Grell leveled a direct stare as he took two more unhurried steps toward Nagi, flashing him a wide, toothy grin. "Now - let's settle this honorably, shall we?" He revved the chainsaw to life and began to charge down the alleyway.

[striginae]

If Grell was expecting some sort of frightened reaction, he would have been sorely disappointed -- the only thing Nagi acknowledged about this change of positions was that now, it would be easier to attack directly. After all, it was the combination of long-range explosions and close-range grappling that made him so efficient.

Meeting the chainsaw-charge straight on, he let loose a series of explosives -- but not in a random disarray, like before. Place strategically. Calculatedly. One aimed just before the man's feet, one aimed at the body of the chainsaw, one aimed at the tip of the shaking blade. Three blows meant to knock him completely off balance.

And no hesitation, as Nagi lunged forward as well, blood-stained hand aimed for the soft underbelly to tear into.

[anachronize]

The explosives met their marks, and the force of the blasts knocked Grell backwards - grinning, laughing as he stumbled - then quickly regained his balance. He leaned against the wall of the alley, shoulder propped up against the blood-stained brick, and laughed again, exhilarated from the rush of violence.

"You're quite a work of art yourself, my dear." Grell smiled deviously and once again swung the chainsaw's blade toward his attacker.

[striginae]

Words went entirely ignored, and Nagi reacted only to the attack -- narrowly avoiding the slash of the chainsaw, ignoring the way that it sheared the thinnest sliver of flesh and skin off his shoulder. (Between the gunshot wounds, the various injuries, the lingering trace of drugs, his nerves already flooded with pain -- what matter did a little more make?)

And before the clumsy weapon could be swung once more, he lunged in close, hand shooting forth to pierce through skin and into the abdominal cavity.

[anachronize]

Grell gasped at the sudden sharp pain of fingers tearing into his midsection - surprising, and an inconvenience, though sure to be only a minor injury at best. Grell had been rather fond of this shirt, too, and it would certainly be ruined by the end of this affair. Nonetheless, he chuckled again, and coughed, and pushed forward to butt his head against his assailant, intending to push him back far enough for Grell to launch another attack of his own.

"Something tells me I'm going to enjoy seeing your Cinematic Record, darling." Grell wiped at a smear of blood trickling from his mouth with the back of his gloved hand and jabbed toward the masked figure with the chainsaw-scythe as best he could.

[striginae]

Nagi had been just about ready to twist his hand in deeper, tear through the membranes of the abdominal cavity and start desecrating the organs that lay underneath -- when the sudden blow to the head caught him off guard. Staggering back, he shook his head, vision momentarily decorated with flashes of bright color

[anachronize]

Grell watched the images flash before him - no, no, this was boring, where was the excitement? The blood, the carnage, the mayhem - surely this wasn't the masked figure's debut performance? He sighed as the sharp pain pierced into his midsection anew. "How disappointing."

[deferential]

William had been on his way back to the Abyss -- casually walking and jumping on the rooftops. He was avoiding the massacre that was going on down below. However, he had to stop when his book opened in his hand. It appeared suddenly in the air and began opening to the section related to his subordinates. Dispatcher Sutcliff.

And now he had to go and hunt that shinigami down. Lovely. His steps hurried as he ran in the direction to where he was sure that that fool was. And the fool did not disappoint William. It looked like he was about to be killed if he did not do anything to stop it. His hand came to adjust his glasses as he thought that perhaps he should just let it happen. The scythe instead came out to swing down and to collide with the attacker's shoulder -- meant purely to knock him off balance rather than to actually cause any real damage