R.I.P.
The true death of Sabella Miller.
Bum Bum Bum. Cue the funeral music!
Now, despite this character's death, I will still be around with my alts and as a memeber of staff, if anyone needs to get ahold of me and is unaware of any of my alts then you can page me at the name I will be using now with my staff-bit, Myra.
So no frets dearies, while the character might be dead, I most certainly am not.
~Bella
Thirty minutes has long since passed. Was Sean good to his word? Does Jean already know? Has she already locked onto Bella's mind and is gunning for her right this moment? Filthy telepaths. Questions she doesn't have the answer to so instead, she'll focus on what she has to do now. She called Erik, and hopefully he'll come. This little section of the park, so unknown that not even the police bother to peek in here except on rare occasions. Perfect for this very moment. Everything has been arranged. Her company, her money, her legacy, all of it. She stands gazing into the woods, green eyes void of emotion. Long brown hair has been brushed out into it's softest waves, bouncing softly against her back and shoulders as the wind flutters through it. Drama was always her forte and she's dressed to prove it. A soft white dress tight around the chest, empire waisted only to flow dramatically over her hips, legs and feet. The picture of innocence right down to the matching ballet-like slippers. She might have lived as a demon, but she'll die like an angel.
Where Bella has dressed herself for innocence, Erik has clearly taken a different path - opting for distance and intimidation. Over the deep blood red of his dress shirt, a neatly pressed black suit is buttoned snuggly in into place - and a heavy overcoat over that, just as dark - expert tailoring accenting the hard line of his shoulders, while the collar arcs high around his neck. Black gloves. Black fedora. It's all there, cold and familiar as the line of his glare, scraping icily along the park's boundry in the darkness. The whip of the wind at his coat and past his ears is largely ignored.
Bella would expect nothing different, after all, they're last meeting didn't turn out so well for him. The slight shift of the wind, the gentle scent that tells her someone is nearby; That's all it takes for Bella's head to curve slightly, searching the area for traces of Erik. And there he is, looking as dangerous and dashing as ever. A cold smile lights her features, fangs glistening in a peek of moolight as she turns towards Erik completely. "I'm surprised you came. Surprised, but thankful." An old voice purrs, silken as the last day it had been used so long ago. And the voice matched the face. Sabella.
Magneto says nothing, his glare boring into the white of her dress once her voice has drawn his attention from the left to the right, harsh and hardened against feeling. His gloved hands edge slowly out of their respective pockets - flexing against the November chill as he draws to a wary halt some twenty feet away.
Sabella stays where she is for the moment, her hands clasping and drooped in front of her. The bottom of her dress drift in his direction picked up by the wind as her head tilts in quiet understanding. The smile remains. "You know, I was thinking to myself not an hour ago how ironic it was that the one person I had the hardest time trusting. The one I grew so sure would turn on me.. is the only one I can trust with something as important as this." Ah, and what is 'this' exactly? "The only one that now, looking back at it, I could ever truly trust to save me from myself." She laughs. It's short and dark and completely without humor.
Chin slightly lifted, shoulders squared, Erik hardly moves but to breathe, and even then, the rise and fall of his chest beneath the coat is slow and controlled. From her dress and the rattle of dry leaves over concrete, to her eyes, his glare lifts. He's listening, however reluctantly.
Bella's smile tilts as he meets her gaze at last, lashes drooping over her eyes for a brief moment before they lift to him once more. Seduction or submission? It's difficult to say. "I have made all the necessary arrangments. Succubus Entertainment is now fully in Toxin's name. My finances have been devided between a Swiss account which you'll find the information for in the vault of my office, and a trust fund for Nate." She waits to see if he'll remain silent and wait for her to finish or he'll question her.
Briefly, his jaw clenches and flexes against the change in her look, but otherwise, he seems largely uneffected by this news. She'll get to the point. Eventually. The nature of his glare and his posture remain the same.
Sabella grins again at his continued silence. For the first time she steps forward, only about a foot or two but her hand extends forward. Manicured fingers unfurl from the fist she'd been keeping clasped. In her palm lies a small white pill and a small metal blade. "One for you and one for me. The white one is for me, when I swollow it it'll create a sort of block against my healing powers. I created something similar when I thought I could kill Essex. This one though, is for me." She slides the blade forward between two fingers, so it's just that little bit closer to him. "This is for you. It's made up of four blades, adamantium, like a throwing star except it's a dagger. I'm sure that you're more than skilled enough to force it all the way through one of my major arteries once the pill has been taken."
There's a faint rustle, then a dry crunch as Erik takes a slow step forward over the leaf litter - then another, advancing carefully across the distance that remains between them. Fifteen feet. Ten feet. Five. All the while, his glare remains locked upon Sabella's - the slightest of magnetic tremors passing through the blade before he's near enough to reach for it. To make certain. "You could do it yourself. You've done it before." His voice is low and quiet, in the darkness. Lacking rather distinctly in emotion.
Bella shivers as he approaches. "I could. But if I screwed up and simply pierced something instead of pushing it all the way through, then I'll live. I'll lie here until the drug wears off and my healing kicks back in and pushes the blade from my body. Completely defeating the purpose." She allows the blade to be taken, holding onto the pill and craning her neck to gaze up to him. "I trust you would make no such mistake." Her voice softens slightly with the comment.
From her hand to his, the blade hovers - turning slowly over in the space just above his fingers, only to drift before his own chest as he moves to tug the first glove off - then the second. Both are tucked into his pocket as he watches her, unbothered by the shiver, or her instructions.
Bella watches the blade with glittering eyes, eyes that drift back to his as she smiles. "I would suggest getting to the information in my vault before they go searching for the will. I would hate to see the money go to someone undeserving." The pill is pressed between two finger before she pops it into her mouth and takes it dry. "It'll take a minute or so to kick in. I don't suppose you have anything you'd like to say?"
Magneto still, it would seem, has very little to say one way or the other. If anything, as the blade is guided back into the direct control of his right hand, he looks a little lost - a sigh rolling out into the cold night air to dissipate a second or two later. "I'm sorry it's come to this."
Bella holds a hand out very gently to see if he'll allow her to touch his hand for the briefest of moments. "I am to. But it's the only way I'll ever know anything of peace." Her eyes drift to her hand which pulls away from him whether he let her touch him or not and falls to her side. "For what it's worth coming from me.. you're a good man Erik and once upon a time, I loved you more than anything." Teary eyes lift and once more a smile drifts over her lips. "Protect them my sweet, and show them that life can be what you make it. You have a beautiful dream, and if anyone can make it come true, it's you." She takes a step away from him, backwards into a beam of moonlight that shimmers through the trees, green eyes twinkling as they watch him. "Never give up on your dream, Erik. Never give up on yourself." Her hands rest to her sides as she stands still, eyes open as she gives the tiniest nod of her head. She's ready.
Erik doesn't pull away, but he doesn't look particularly pleased about it, either - eyes falling slightly until she's at a safe distance once again, and he can lift his glare back up to meet hers. "Always with the drama." Still, he's steeling himself visibly - the muscles in his shoulders and back tense as his eyes narrow and his brows knit with the effort of concentration involved in the task at hand. "You're entirely certain I need a major artery?"
Bella grins at the mention of her and drama. But atleast she's sticking to what she's good at. The smile fades as she rests her hands and goes still. "It's better safe than sorry, dearest." A bat of lashes. "Oh, and Erik.. Thank you."
"Very well." Nothing is said in return to her thanks as Erik steps forward - the hollows of his face shadowed in the moonlight as his right hand reaches out to grasp her right shoulder. The left molds over her side. Holding her firmly in place, so that the blade is offered enough resistence to crack through her sternum. Through her ribs. And through the aorta and part of the heart, apparently of its own volition. The spray that results is flinched against, and then ignored.
Bella presses against his grip as her teeth grind together in preperation. She'd always said she never feared death, but as she looks up into the shadow of his face, there's most certainly fear in her eyes. "Goodbye." she whispers as she feels the blade start to press through her flesh, before the words are lost in a hiss of pain as the adamantium easily slides through bone and tissue. Her enitre body trembles, eyes widening as whimpers and gurgles are all she has left as the blood begins to trickle from her mouth. It doesn't take long for her eyes to drift closed, and her body to go slack in his grasp, unmoving.
Magneto is, suffice to say, a sodden mess. Warm, at least - but in the night, even that morbid comfort is already beginning to wane by the time she slackens, and he releases her to stand at her side once her body has thumped back to the cement...for several minutes. Waiting, and breathing, until he deems her dead enough for his liking. And even then, he's taking no risks. The blade dragged back up out of her chest and into his waiting hand, with a thin layer of magnetism to protect his own flesh from its adamantium edge, he sets to work. One wet crack. Two. Enough room for one hand to get in, knife and all, to feel for the heart...and then to cut around it. There's hardly any surgical precision to be found, here. Just a blind attempt to slice through what connective tissue and vessels he can before the organ is wrenched back and out. The knife is left in, for police to find. He doesn't need it anyway. The heart (or most of it) dropped next to her, it's with a rather uncomfortable wave of nausea that he looks back down at her. /Really/ looks - pupils shrinking away from the damage dealt, so that he turns away quickly to pace off into the night. To a pay phone he spotted on his way in. And then home.
Bum Bum Bum. Cue the funeral music!
Now, despite this character's death, I will still be around with my alts and as a memeber of staff, if anyone needs to get ahold of me and is unaware of any of my alts then you can page me at the name I will be using now with my staff-bit, Myra.
So no frets dearies, while the character might be dead, I most certainly am not.
~Bella
Thirty minutes has long since passed. Was Sean good to his word? Does Jean already know? Has she already locked onto Bella's mind and is gunning for her right this moment? Filthy telepaths. Questions she doesn't have the answer to so instead, she'll focus on what she has to do now. She called Erik, and hopefully he'll come. This little section of the park, so unknown that not even the police bother to peek in here except on rare occasions. Perfect for this very moment. Everything has been arranged. Her company, her money, her legacy, all of it. She stands gazing into the woods, green eyes void of emotion. Long brown hair has been brushed out into it's softest waves, bouncing softly against her back and shoulders as the wind flutters through it. Drama was always her forte and she's dressed to prove it. A soft white dress tight around the chest, empire waisted only to flow dramatically over her hips, legs and feet. The picture of innocence right down to the matching ballet-like slippers. She might have lived as a demon, but she'll die like an angel.
Where Bella has dressed herself for innocence, Erik has clearly taken a different path - opting for distance and intimidation. Over the deep blood red of his dress shirt, a neatly pressed black suit is buttoned snuggly in into place - and a heavy overcoat over that, just as dark - expert tailoring accenting the hard line of his shoulders, while the collar arcs high around his neck. Black gloves. Black fedora. It's all there, cold and familiar as the line of his glare, scraping icily along the park's boundry in the darkness. The whip of the wind at his coat and past his ears is largely ignored.
Bella would expect nothing different, after all, they're last meeting didn't turn out so well for him. The slight shift of the wind, the gentle scent that tells her someone is nearby; That's all it takes for Bella's head to curve slightly, searching the area for traces of Erik. And there he is, looking as dangerous and dashing as ever. A cold smile lights her features, fangs glistening in a peek of moolight as she turns towards Erik completely. "I'm surprised you came. Surprised, but thankful." An old voice purrs, silken as the last day it had been used so long ago. And the voice matched the face. Sabella.
Magneto says nothing, his glare boring into the white of her dress once her voice has drawn his attention from the left to the right, harsh and hardened against feeling. His gloved hands edge slowly out of their respective pockets - flexing against the November chill as he draws to a wary halt some twenty feet away.
Sabella stays where she is for the moment, her hands clasping and drooped in front of her. The bottom of her dress drift in his direction picked up by the wind as her head tilts in quiet understanding. The smile remains. "You know, I was thinking to myself not an hour ago how ironic it was that the one person I had the hardest time trusting. The one I grew so sure would turn on me.. is the only one I can trust with something as important as this." Ah, and what is 'this' exactly? "The only one that now, looking back at it, I could ever truly trust to save me from myself." She laughs. It's short and dark and completely without humor.
Chin slightly lifted, shoulders squared, Erik hardly moves but to breathe, and even then, the rise and fall of his chest beneath the coat is slow and controlled. From her dress and the rattle of dry leaves over concrete, to her eyes, his glare lifts. He's listening, however reluctantly.
Bella's smile tilts as he meets her gaze at last, lashes drooping over her eyes for a brief moment before they lift to him once more. Seduction or submission? It's difficult to say. "I have made all the necessary arrangments. Succubus Entertainment is now fully in Toxin's name. My finances have been devided between a Swiss account which you'll find the information for in the vault of my office, and a trust fund for Nate." She waits to see if he'll remain silent and wait for her to finish or he'll question her.
Briefly, his jaw clenches and flexes against the change in her look, but otherwise, he seems largely uneffected by this news. She'll get to the point. Eventually. The nature of his glare and his posture remain the same.
Sabella grins again at his continued silence. For the first time she steps forward, only about a foot or two but her hand extends forward. Manicured fingers unfurl from the fist she'd been keeping clasped. In her palm lies a small white pill and a small metal blade. "One for you and one for me. The white one is for me, when I swollow it it'll create a sort of block against my healing powers. I created something similar when I thought I could kill Essex. This one though, is for me." She slides the blade forward between two fingers, so it's just that little bit closer to him. "This is for you. It's made up of four blades, adamantium, like a throwing star except it's a dagger. I'm sure that you're more than skilled enough to force it all the way through one of my major arteries once the pill has been taken."
There's a faint rustle, then a dry crunch as Erik takes a slow step forward over the leaf litter - then another, advancing carefully across the distance that remains between them. Fifteen feet. Ten feet. Five. All the while, his glare remains locked upon Sabella's - the slightest of magnetic tremors passing through the blade before he's near enough to reach for it. To make certain. "You could do it yourself. You've done it before." His voice is low and quiet, in the darkness. Lacking rather distinctly in emotion.
Bella shivers as he approaches. "I could. But if I screwed up and simply pierced something instead of pushing it all the way through, then I'll live. I'll lie here until the drug wears off and my healing kicks back in and pushes the blade from my body. Completely defeating the purpose." She allows the blade to be taken, holding onto the pill and craning her neck to gaze up to him. "I trust you would make no such mistake." Her voice softens slightly with the comment.
From her hand to his, the blade hovers - turning slowly over in the space just above his fingers, only to drift before his own chest as he moves to tug the first glove off - then the second. Both are tucked into his pocket as he watches her, unbothered by the shiver, or her instructions.
Bella watches the blade with glittering eyes, eyes that drift back to his as she smiles. "I would suggest getting to the information in my vault before they go searching for the will. I would hate to see the money go to someone undeserving." The pill is pressed between two finger before she pops it into her mouth and takes it dry. "It'll take a minute or so to kick in. I don't suppose you have anything you'd like to say?"
Magneto still, it would seem, has very little to say one way or the other. If anything, as the blade is guided back into the direct control of his right hand, he looks a little lost - a sigh rolling out into the cold night air to dissipate a second or two later. "I'm sorry it's come to this."
Bella holds a hand out very gently to see if he'll allow her to touch his hand for the briefest of moments. "I am to. But it's the only way I'll ever know anything of peace." Her eyes drift to her hand which pulls away from him whether he let her touch him or not and falls to her side. "For what it's worth coming from me.. you're a good man Erik and once upon a time, I loved you more than anything." Teary eyes lift and once more a smile drifts over her lips. "Protect them my sweet, and show them that life can be what you make it. You have a beautiful dream, and if anyone can make it come true, it's you." She takes a step away from him, backwards into a beam of moonlight that shimmers through the trees, green eyes twinkling as they watch him. "Never give up on your dream, Erik. Never give up on yourself." Her hands rest to her sides as she stands still, eyes open as she gives the tiniest nod of her head. She's ready.
Erik doesn't pull away, but he doesn't look particularly pleased about it, either - eyes falling slightly until she's at a safe distance once again, and he can lift his glare back up to meet hers. "Always with the drama." Still, he's steeling himself visibly - the muscles in his shoulders and back tense as his eyes narrow and his brows knit with the effort of concentration involved in the task at hand. "You're entirely certain I need a major artery?"
Bella grins at the mention of her and drama. But atleast she's sticking to what she's good at. The smile fades as she rests her hands and goes still. "It's better safe than sorry, dearest." A bat of lashes. "Oh, and Erik.. Thank you."
"Very well." Nothing is said in return to her thanks as Erik steps forward - the hollows of his face shadowed in the moonlight as his right hand reaches out to grasp her right shoulder. The left molds over her side. Holding her firmly in place, so that the blade is offered enough resistence to crack through her sternum. Through her ribs. And through the aorta and part of the heart, apparently of its own volition. The spray that results is flinched against, and then ignored.
Bella presses against his grip as her teeth grind together in preperation. She'd always said she never feared death, but as she looks up into the shadow of his face, there's most certainly fear in her eyes. "Goodbye." she whispers as she feels the blade start to press through her flesh, before the words are lost in a hiss of pain as the adamantium easily slides through bone and tissue. Her enitre body trembles, eyes widening as whimpers and gurgles are all she has left as the blood begins to trickle from her mouth. It doesn't take long for her eyes to drift closed, and her body to go slack in his grasp, unmoving.
Magneto is, suffice to say, a sodden mess. Warm, at least - but in the night, even that morbid comfort is already beginning to wane by the time she slackens, and he releases her to stand at her side once her body has thumped back to the cement...for several minutes. Waiting, and breathing, until he deems her dead enough for his liking. And even then, he's taking no risks. The blade dragged back up out of her chest and into his waiting hand, with a thin layer of magnetism to protect his own flesh from its adamantium edge, he sets to work. One wet crack. Two. Enough room for one hand to get in, knife and all, to feel for the heart...and then to cut around it. There's hardly any surgical precision to be found, here. Just a blind attempt to slice through what connective tissue and vessels he can before the organ is wrenched back and out. The knife is left in, for police to find. He doesn't need it anyway. The heart (or most of it) dropped next to her, it's with a rather uncomfortable wave of nausea that he looks back down at her. /Really/ looks - pupils shrinking away from the damage dealt, so that he turns away quickly to pace off into the night. To a pay phone he spotted on his way in. And then home.