03: Fate forbids what you pursue [visual | location: Mick's apartment]

[ownlittleprison]

For Mick, the past week had passed in a blur of activity. Early morning saw him barricading the windows to keep out as much sunlight as possible, and his Extra neighbors had complained greatly to the Extra who kept tabs on everyone in the building. He'd been issued a warning, and informed that two more strikes meant he had to leave

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[location: Mick's place]

[ownlittleprison]

"What part of killing a monster don't you get? You're not supposed to come here alone!"

Come to think of it, now that he stood on the right side of the door, coiled tight as a spring and ready to snap, Mick wasn't sure that he wanted to inspire anyone to anything. Certainly not marching right up to the mythical dragon's lair and dangle a...fair maiden was a stretch, but then he wasn't entirely thinking straight. He could smell the other man, could pick out all the subdermal veins in his mind's eye from memory alone, and it was messing with his priorities.

He had to keep him out - but if the guy with the zipper for a center part was naive enough to come here all alone, he had it coming. He had to drive him off - but he was right there for the taking.

The worst part of starving wasn't that the hunger pangs burned like fire through his entire body. The worst part was he knew it wouldn't be long at all before he couldn't take it anymore.

Breathing heavily enough that it filled the relative silence of the apartment, Mick placed himself right up close to the front door, pale fingers splaying out over the dark brown wood. He'd keep the guy out even if he had to use himself as leverage.

"Please," he pleaded through the door. "You have to go away. Get help-- I don't want to hurt you."

[location: Mick's place]

[justaddmarbles]

Naive? Maybe, since he'd taken Mick's appearance and thought weakened instead of mad. Or maybe he'd found a glimmer of his old optimism, that thing which used to drive him, and turned it into grim determination.

"Someone else is coming," Glitch said. Lied? No, assumed. "That's what we do here, we look out for each other. So just...hang in there, everything's going to be okay."

He went back to work on the lock, frowning intently. Plan, strategy, he used to be good at this. Go in, sort Mick out, take him to Helen (he'd listened to the tablet, a little), or maybe Helen was on the way. Still lots of variables, but then he was used to that and he did have a last-resort failsafe in the stake.

[location: Mick's place]

[ownlittleprison]

Mick pushed himself against the door for a few pounding heartbeats longer, then stepped away to pace, increasingly agitated by the fact some stupid hero type was trying to pick the lock to his front door, and there was nothing he could do about it. You don't go marching up to a vampire's crypt or whatever, all alone, hoping that backup will arrive in the nick of time. He couldn't risk opening the door, but he couldn't very well-- Oh, right.

He turned back towards the door, returning to position while hoping against hope he could out-stubborn the other guy.

"You're not just saying that to make me feel better, right?"

[location: Mick's place]

[justaddmarbles]

That question got a breathy chuckle. "That's...no, no I'm not."

The lock picking wasn't going well; apparently that wasn't one of his forgotten skills. Glitch set the tool aside and frowned at the door, brain trying to sort through the best course of action. Wait for help? Wait for someone less charitable to arrive? Stake won't kill me, just paralyze me.

Absently he reached down to pick up his improvised stake, just to be ready in case the door magically vanished because he knew the hamsters hated/loved him like that. Unfortunately instead of the relatively smooth bottom of the chair leg he latched onto the jagged business end and hissed when a sharp edge bit into his palm. Instinctively he snatched his hand away and examined the cut, long but shallow, blood welling up and--

Blood. The next word out of Glitch's mouth was something considerably stronger than cripes.

[location: Mick's place]

[ownlittleprison]

Suddenly, out of nowhere, the world slows down - Mick's nostrils flare, taking in the air filling with the scent of blood.

Fresh blood.

Pupils dilating, lips thinning and curling to bare teeth, Mick couldn't stop the growl rumbling from the very tips of his toes, coursing through his gut and his rib cage and out through gritted teeth.

Suddenly, it isn't a question of keeping Glitch out, or from Glitch's point of view, of picking the lock. Not when the door cracks under the pressure of a full body slam.

[location: Mick's place]

[justaddmarbles]

Glitch had, hilariously, put his hand to his mouth to try and staunch the bleeding but clearly it was too late. He reached for the stake again but it clattered away, and the hallway was too narrow for his usual theatrics--

--been here before, small spaces, scratching, biting, just get away, just try and get away quickly before it was too late--

No, no no no, there was still a chance, this wasn't then and he could still figure it out.

"MICK! Listen, come on, just...you can--" Control this, something, words words words....

[location: Mick's place]

[ownlittleprison]

The door cracks from the force of the next slam, the sound echoing hollowly down the winding stairwell. And then it simply isn't there, as someone - or some thing - rips it off its hinges and throws it into the darkness of the apartment itself.

Mick isn't listening to reason, unfortunately. He can't even hear Glitch's voice for his heartbeat reverberating so loudly off of every last surface around him.

He hisses, like something between a snake and a big cat, eyeing Glitch like the monster he was never meant to be.

[location: Mick's place] /sneaks one more in

[justaddmarbles]

And Glitch scrambled back, lip curled into a silent snarl. He had his brain back, he could out-think in this situation, but there were pitch-black shadows that drove his instincts, he'd had to learn to fight his way out of things. Horrible things ,and he hadn't always won.

He could win this, though, all he needed was the stake and his speed and agility would do the rest. Or maybe just some divine intervention...

[location: Mick's Place] as alwayss tl/dr =(

[freaks_myword]

Have some intervention, Glitch, though not so much of the divine. But one can't really be choosey in such situations, right? Lucky for you, Gwen's got something going for her, and doesn't just come in handy in the handiest of times?

She'd been struggling to find the fastest route inside Mick's place. The building was cake, nothing a little electrical manipulation couldn't take care of. But she was used to blueprints, perimeter maps, and careful planning. A good heist had to be perfect or no cigar. She'd been making her way through the vent systems toward Mick's ceiling when the sounds reached her, sounding hollow. She abandoned tact and jumped down into the nearest hall and took off running.

One thing she could always applaud herself for was timing. "Hey! Mick!" Loook at the pretty girl, Micky. She tore off both gloves and felt electricity sizzle. "Down boy."