See the devil on the doorstep now, my oh my

Mar 08, 2009 17:52

Cy is back in Grant Park, chunnering away to herself while she digs around the base of Buckingham fountain. She is looking for her sunlight-marble. She distinctly remembers having it here--though whether she had it here when she went with the fox or whether she had it here when she was left is an open question.

Aniki is wandering Cicero after the ( Read more... )

julian sark, martha jones, robin rice, cy, ragnar, farley claymore, gabe seagram, abby maitland, revan onasi, vincent sterling, ruvin, aniki forfrysning

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thrillofthekill March 9 2009, 01:05:50 UTC
Vincent comes into the common room, hands in the pockets of his suits. He hasn't slept since last night. He spent hours getting rid of the bodies of those CLF members and even longer taking care of Ariel's body. Since then, he's had Mitsuki orchestrating the business end of Ariel's estate over speaker phone with whatever passes for bureaucracy in the hotel business, because when there's no lawyers available, Mitzi's just as good. Of course, there's not much he can really do about any of it and they don't have access to any of Ariel's private affairs, so eventually it's become a 'wait-and-see' game as far as who gets the hotel now is concerned.

And, apparently, there's a kid who needs to talk, so that's why he's here, foregoing sleep to keep on working for the greater good.

"Wouldn't have pegged you for a painter," he muses, stepping up behind Ruvin to examine the painting a little more closely.

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changingtheodds March 9 2009, 02:30:55 UTC
Ruvin twitches in surprise when he speaks, sending a few drops of green flicking across the cloth. She bites her lip, cleans her brush, and smooths the droplets into the painting--a stripe of moss fountaining over the side of the wall here, a tree spreading thin branches between the buildings there. Only when the mistake has been incorporated into the image does she clean her brush and set it aside.

And as soon as her focus is off of the work, she blushes and looks at her lap. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting, I just... It wouldn't have felt right. Leaving the spots."

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thrillofthekill March 9 2009, 02:38:10 UTC
Vincent smiles in a tired, amused manner and stands back, watching her work the mistakes into the painting. It's kind of a fascinating way to fix mistakes, honestly- turn them around and make something out of them, rather than stumbling over them. Girl's clever, that's for sure.

"It's fine- sorry I startled you. Neat way to handle that though." He gestures to the painting. "Some people'd call the whole thing a bust after somethin' like that, but you made it work." He tilts his head to the side. "Hell, it even gives the paintin' a little somethin' extra."

He pauses, unconsciously checking one of his large black wings to make sure all of his feathers are in place for no reason other than it gives him something to focus on for a second. "You needed to talk?" He asks, after a moment.

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changingtheodds March 9 2009, 02:49:19 UTC
Ah. Yes. Ruvin bites her lip and nods. She starts to get to her feet and then winces, almost falling over. Her legs are asleep. She should have figured, staying that still for that long, but it still takes her a bit by surprise.

She squeaks, balances herself, and eases upright again. "It... Ariel. She... Last night, after I..." She's not sure where her thoughts are. Again. Even after focusing so carefully for so long.

That's unacceptable. Ruvin closes her eyes, settling into the space she uses when preparing to paint, or when cleaning her tools afterward. Even with that stillness, it's hard to say what she needs to. It comes out frail and quiet and she can't look at Vincent as she speaks. "I think it's my fault."

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teenaged_twin March 9 2009, 01:45:36 UTC
It's a hell of a cliché, rain at a funeral.

Then again, it hadn't really been a funeral. Just a memorial service and an urn - the body cremated for health and safety precautions - that their mother wasn't planning on locking away in some marble crypt or scattering to the winds, oh no. And if he'd had to listen to one more person offer him a meaningless platitude....

Which is why Gabe is wandering through the park in a suit and dress shoes instead of normal clothing.

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cyfor March 9 2009, 02:41:40 UTC
Cy pauses in her hunt, her ears swiveling around. She hears a person. With a soft hiss, she burrows into the leaves and peers out at him. Her 'stealth' is ruined by the fact that she's still talking away as she watches Gabe wander close by.

"Lost and losing, it's all a shot, a shot at the head, hello, come in Chicago, this is the future speaking."

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teenaged_twin March 9 2009, 02:57:43 UTC
The rustle of leaves is what gets his attention first.

The voice has him looking around cautiously.

"...Okay then, future. This is Chicago; the rest of the city maybe in a fighting mood at this time, but right now? I'm not."

Unless you're one of those CLF asshats, in which case all bets are off.

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cyfor March 9 2009, 03:04:13 UTC
Silence. Chicago spoke back. This is a new one. Cy is not sure how to handle it.

She pokes her head out of the leaves. "You broke it!"

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sarkraticmethod March 9 2009, 03:00:16 UTC
Sark has foregone depression in favor of annoyance. He and Ariel weren't close enough for her death to really get to him on a visceral level (granted, there are few people who could do that to him), but the fact that she died for what he feels is no reason just makes him sick. His life has gotten far too complicated and irritating and being emotional in any way doesn't work.

He should have interrogated that fifth one. He could have found out something and compromised their entire operation and then at least he could feel useful again.

He's pondering all of this as he stalks the halls of the Kashtta, his hand in a brace that's probably not going to be suitable for healing his hand, but it was all Juliet could manage for the moment. The fracture wasn't horrible, but it was enough that his hand still hurts. It certainly draws attention away from the stitches in his shoulder and side and the bruises... And, okay, stalking the halls isn't the smartest thing to do ( ... )

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prince_stupid March 9 2009, 03:07:46 UTC
"There are a proliferation of ghosts," he says. Yes, Sark, Rags can see them. "It is unusual for so many to be concentrated within a single space, I should say. Though Tintagel had a number of its own."

He muses on this for a moment before turning to look at Sark. And then he blinks. This is how Ragnar shows alarm. "You have been injured, Julian Sark."

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sarkraticmethod March 9 2009, 03:15:07 UTC
Sark blinks. This is how Sark shows... Everything. "I'd avoid the hallway that looks dilapidated, if I were you," he says, after a moment of actually wondering if he wants to think of a better comment than that.

He looks down at his hand in distaste. "So I have."

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prince_stupid March 9 2009, 03:21:23 UTC
Ragnar whisks his tail back and forth in the cat version of a frown. "Well, I must say: that will not do."

He trots over to Sark, all business, and sits down. "Please sit. I am afraid I cannot tend your wounds from here."

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smithnjones March 9 2009, 03:25:49 UTC
Martha Jones is in Cicero. No one, but her knows why. She doesn't even bother using her perception filter right now. If the CLF would attack her, they would attack anyone. She looks human, nothing more, nothing less, her house isn't being watched, and she still carries a gun with her.

She wouldn't even stop at the graffiti at all if she hadn't glanced at Aniki and seen someone else.

"Dinah?" Martha stops abruptly and stares at her. It looks exactly like her, but Dinah is dead so unless the dead are rising, again, all around the city (Martha Jones is not in the mood for zombies, kthx). "Sorry. You just- You look exactly like her, but you're... not. Can't be."

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anjelsword March 9 2009, 04:04:36 UTC
Aniki looks the woman over and shakes her head. "Sorry, lass. Though you're not the first to think so. Hasn't happened in a while."

She looks back up at the graffiti, then sighs and scratches her head.

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smithnjones March 9 2009, 04:16:06 UTC
As the woman speaks, Martha can tell. Definetly not Dinah. It's silly to have thought it for even a second, but some days it's hard to track of who's still alive.

"It's alright," she says, smiling slightly. "Honestly. I should be used to it by now."

Considering her boys both have identical twins running around the city, too. The dead is on her mind tonight. Martha looks at the graffiti, too, and looks away, again, nearly as quickly.

"They killed my friend," she says quietly, and then looks at Aniki, again. "The CLF did."

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anjelsword March 9 2009, 04:56:09 UTC
"The woman... Ariel?" Aniki's upper lip draws back, showing teeth. She spits on the graffiti and turns her back on it. "I'm sorry."

It actually sounds like she means it, too, not like it's a required conciliatory gesture.

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clanoftheswords March 9 2009, 03:59:46 UTC
Tea. Again. Farley's starting to wonder if it's becoming a habit.

On the other hand, given the current situation, he could do worse. Not that it'll really help...

Another death, pretty much re-confirming what everyone knew from the start, that these CLF are out of their minds.

But right now, that's not what's on his mind.

It would make sense to react the way he had when he found out about Ariel - they'd killed before, this woman was well known and much beloved to the Wanderers in the Conrad...

Then he remembers his assistance in the ill-fated attempt to take over the world, as well as several other indiscretions he'd committed to further his career. And he wonders.

Which is pretty much how he is when he enters the common room, journal in hand once again and wondering if he should get Doc in here for a talk, when he notices Ruvin.

"...Hi."

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changingtheodds March 9 2009, 04:50:06 UTC
She pauses, brush poised over the pallet, and looks up. "...Hello."

Ruvin is fairly certain she's seen him around the basement--it's not so large a space that you can avoid encountering most of its residents in some way or another--but she's never actually spoken to him before.

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clanoftheswords March 12 2009, 18:45:06 UTC
He starts a little - now he's not entirely sure if he was expecting a reply. Still, company's company...

He glances at her work - it's obviously a city, though it looks like nothing he's ever seen before.

"Nice work."

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changingtheodds March 13 2009, 19:49:46 UTC
She smiles, a little bit, and looks down at the image. "Thank you. It's my home."

Ruvin sets the brush aside and stands, wincing a little. Her legs have fallen asleep a little bit from sitting on them for so long.

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