capeandcowllogs | They always say truth will find a way

Entry tags:

† !—dropped characters—! †

They always say truth will find a way

WHO: Grell Sutcliffe, Megan Gwynn, Lorna Dane, Jonothon Starsmore, and Robyn Slinger
WHERE: A warehouse...somewhere. IMAGINATION, GUYS.
WHEN: Monday, backdated to...alskfj somewhere around sixish?
WARNINGS: Attempted murder, Grell, Grell getting his face beaten in, Grell bitching, violence, etc. etc.
SUMMARY: Grell's coup d' grace isn't quite as...majestic as he though it'd be. A failed attack on Pixie, defeat by Lorna Dane, and subsequent arrest.
FORMAT: Para, probably.

Grell had spent his time (his entire day, really) allowing Megan to drag him around shopping for clothes, not because he wanted to get clothing, but because he'd made a decision earlier the night before. These whores, they weren't good prey - they weren't worthy of his scythe, not really. They didn't mean anything but another news broadcast and another corpse in an alley. No effect on him, no skin off his teeth.

It's why he needed more...important prey. Something that would not only put up a fight, but shake the community, force it to panic. Plus, it always meant more when he actually liked the person he was about to immolate, so another plus there!

"M-Megan," he began in a shaky tone, ignoring the not unpleasant way his heart sped up when he began to speak the words, "there's really something I'd like you to see. If, ah, if you'd like to, of course."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It had been an awesome day! Not only did she get to do something nice for a new friend, but Grell had been really agreeable about it the whole time! He didn't grumble while shopping nearly as much as any other male-person she'd met. But then, that could be part of the reason people kept mistaking him for a girl. But not once she was done with him, no sir!

"Hmm?" She looked up from yet another shop window, "Sure thing, luv. Lead the way!" And with a light heart and a bouncing step, she began to follow him.

Grell adjusted the bags in his arms, offering a sheepish smile before hurrying off away from the crowds and towards a somewhat isolated location - making an honest effort not to show how his hands shook in anticipation, though he really wasn't trying to hide it very much in the first place. He made sure to round a sharp corner in an attempt to go out of view, slipping down a dark side alley.

"I-it's right down - ah!" He yelped loudly in faux pain, muffling the sudden shriek with his hand and dropped the packages along in in a sort of trail towards the shady back of the alley, using a dumpster to propel himself onto the roof and wait - but not after dropping his thick Victorian coat with a loud 'thunk', a noise not unlike a body hitting the ground.

Time to shine.

When she heard the yelp she immediately started running, thinking that he'd fallen again or injured himself in some other way... but when she got to the ally, he wasn't there. All she could find were his coat and a few of the other pieces she'd helped him pick out, which were strewn along here and there.

"Grell?" Her wings twitched nervously as she looked around... her hands tightened into little white fists. "Grell, if you're conscious, please answer me! Are you hurt?"

She didn't even hear him coming.

He dropped down as silently as possible, creeping up behind her in a slow and steady stalk. By the time she turned - if she even did, he didn't pay attention - the flat side of a chainsaw was already whizzing its way towards her skull. He may have had the teeth pointed in a way that cut her, he didn't particularly care either way, but by the time she was down for the count, he was already dropping his white gloves to the pavement and pulling on a pair of black.

The building she would've woken up in - an old butcher's shop warehouse with a somewhat complicated apartment building attached, lololol irony - was cold and dark, due to being abandoned for years upon years. Grell himself was still in derp form, waiting for her to wake up to pull his acting face on again. Until then, he'd wait and just...well, enjoy the mood.

Edited 2010-03-30 02:40 (UTC)

All she noticed was a blur of red and white... a huge, blunt pain in her head... then darkness.

The pain stayed. And it was still there when she woke up.

Megan groaned, trying to sit up, but she felt like her head weighed a million pounds. When she raised a hand to her head, it felt something warm and slightly tacky... blood. Rapidly drying blood, which had saturated her normally radient hair.

"Mmmmrrrahgg..." she groaned again, opening her eyes. "...G-grell? Anybody? What happened?"

She did not recognize this place.

"M-Megan!" Grell managed a confused and pained moan, staggering out into view. There was blood on his face, but it wasn't his - he'd borrowed some of hers while she was unconscious to make the effect more convincing. He quickly made his way over to her, theatrically nearly losing his balance once or twice on the way, and dropped to his hands and knees in front of her.

"I...where are we, Megan? I can't...ugh, my head...I can't remember what happened." He winced, gingerly touching his completely uninjured head. "What happened? Sh...should we look for a way out?" He chewed his lip sheepishly, feigning terror and confusion.

She pushed him away gently. Poor Grell. Meg knew he was scared, but her head was pounding and she couldn't deal with his whining just then.

"No... no worries, eh?" she tried to sound cheerful even as she gingerly rolled onto her belly so she could crawl to a piece of furniture, then use that leverage to finally get onto her feet. "Just sit tight, friend. We can, uh... s-send for help. I'm sure the X-Men are worried sick. Don't fret. I'm sure they're looking for me right now..."

He stood shakily, smiling just as shakily at her - completely sheepishly, completely discomforting, being as useless as he is. While she was getting to her feet, he staggered off to the dark corner he'd been waiting in for the time it took her to wake up.

"You have such pretty wings, Pixie." He said it softly, almost reverently - and hefting the chainsaw all the while. His stumble turned solid, sleek. "I wish I could have them, they're so lovely."

Chainsaw hanging lazily in one hand, he gave a tug at the collar of his shirt as he began a confident pace back, black gloves looking sharp and heels clicking pleasantly. His voice lost the soft edge and grew sickly sweet.

"I think I'll take them."

"Not now Grell, please, I'm--" his voice took a turn somewhere, however. The stutter was completely gone, and there was something in the way he spoke that she'd never heard in him before. Something like... confidence. This was an odd time to grow a backbone... and why was he looking at her like that?

"W-what?" Suddenly she was the one stuttering, as she rested most of her weight on a nearby wall. She felt so tired, and rather dizzy... the world wasn't making sense. "What are you talking about?"

...why was he look at her like that? Why was she nervous? It was Grell for goodness sake.

"Your wings, my dear Pixie." He stopped a moment, only smirking in confidence and something excessively predatory. "They look good on you, but I'm sure they'd complement me much better." Setting the chainsaw down by his feet, Grell took a moment to press on his fake eyelashes and pull off his round glasses, tucking them into the black coat crumpled on the floor. He idly scooped his red woman's coat from its place behind the ruined couch, sliding it on easily but allowing it to hand at his elbows - he pulled the sleeker red framed glasses out of its pocket and placed them on his face.

"It's just a shame they're attached. Taking them off is going to be more difficult that way, but I suppose I really don't have anything to complain about." He gave a tug on the red ribbon and pulled it loose, letting it flutter to the ground limply while producing a (red) comb to brush the brunet out with, admiring the way his own hair turned a deep red color. "At least the work is something I can enjoy."

He flashed her a grin, the most terrible shark-toothed one he could muster while scooping up his chainsaw again and hefting it over his shoulder effortlessly.

"My scythe is unsatisfied with the recent blood it's had - bourgeoisie, mundane, far too easy to chase down. A long draught of mutant blood could be something new!" Grell chuckled gently, flipping a lock of hair over his shoulder and then giving a coy wink. "So don't be boring prey, Pixie. It would be such a shame to kill such a close friend so easily."

"Grell... why are you...?" He was changing. Into someone else. Into something horrible. She couldn't tell if there was a full moon and this was something that was beyond his control, or if he had planned this all along from the moment she'd teleported to his side. But one thing was becoming clear: he'd brought her here. She was in this horrible, filthy room, with a massive headache and a pang of fear in her heart... because of him.

"Please, stop. Grell, don't do this. Not my wings.... Stop saying you're going to kill me. Stop it..." she begged weakly while looking around the room for a window or some other method of escape. "You can't have my wings. You just can't!"

With that, Megan sprinted desperately for the nearest door and flung herself through to the next room, then the next, only breaking her stride when a door turned out to be locked or a floorboard sprang up threateningly. She didn't even know if he was chasing her or not. She just ran.

[Lorna, feel free to make a 'showing up to kick ass' post, and we'll all work with it.]

Lorna was flying around, just in attempt to get used to her powers. She's been doing it frequently ever since she arrived, and it's now that her practice had to be put into use. Her communicator had gone off with a scream from Pixie, and Lorna heard it almost as an echo. Setting down to the warehouse she was close to, she started snooping around until she could find wherever the sound source was. She could sense Megan's magnetic field close by, and it made her curious.

She walked around, going closer to where she was sensing the energy. Lorna poked her head inside, taking it slowly until she found whatever was going on. She spotted Megan quickly, and her eyes flashed brightly.

"What. Is going on here?"

She raised her hands, letting a green glow envelop her finger tips. If this person was after a little mutant girl, he was going to hurt for it.

She was going to die.

And what's more, because she'd had to make that stupid video, everyone was going to have to watch her die... all her friends, her professors, all those poor little kids.

Megan's weaknesses were the only parts of herself she could still feel: her intense terror at confronting a villain alone, her lungs burning from the effort of running away, her muscles fatigued from struggling and crying. She didn't have much left. It was a moment in which true heroes prove themselves, gain their second wind, and vanquish their enemies. Except Pixie had no second wind. That was how she knew she was going to die.

...she had never seen an adult Lorna before. Green hair, green light was suddenly there, as if someone had sent her a guardian angel from Mars.

"Help!" she cried out to the stranger, "Oh God, please help me! He's gonna kill me!"

Grell paused at the intrusion, sighing very audibly with annoyance and tossing his hair over his shoulder in a theatrical and pissy manner.

"People with manners know to knock before entering." He gave Lorna an unimpressed stare, letting out a loud and very audible 'Tch!', sharp teeth very visible. "I was just dealing with this naughty girl for going and giving away the big surprise that the droll butler is the murderer." He shot Pixie a venomous stare. "Lose tongues lose tongues, Megan. But that can come later."

He shifted his stance (and the chainsaw he hefted like air) to face Lorna instead, confident that if Pixie tried to run, he could chase her down with ease. "And who is this interloper? Not the heroic type, I hope!" He revved the chainsaw loudly, threateningly.

"I do hate hero types...though I wouldn't mind spattering you across these walls, either. They could use a new coat."

Was she a hero? Lorna had no clue anymore. She'd done so many horrible things, stuff she deserved to be punished for. Lorna was only herself now. No X-men, no nothing. Former mutant, and nothing else.

"My name is Lorna Dane," she scowled and held her hands forward. She attempted to push the magnetic fields a little, so Grell would go flying pretty easily. "And I wouldn't mind splattering you across the floor."

She didn't want to kill him, she really didn't. This was just talk, Lorna convinced herself. She wasn't a killer anymore, no matter if this person deserved it or not.

"Grell Sutcliffe," He gave a dramatic and prim gesture to himself, fingertips over his heart, flashing a grin. The sudden push caught him off guard, and he went flying back -- he managed to flip and land on his feet, digging his heels into the floor as much as he could.

"That was unfair - everyone in this age just cheats, don't they? I remember when a fight was on equal footing!" He began in a run, jerking forward in a flash of speed - it was in an attempt to get behind her, as he'd done to Sebastian before, and dig his chainsaw blade into her back.

Whether or not he was fast enough was something he was just gambling on.

"It's not cheating," Lorna scowled. "It's part of who I am. I can't help my advantages."

A lie, she supposed. The power that was in her was not at all natural, and it felt like she was clinging onto it to keep it steady. She was dangerous, but perhaps that's what this called for.

When he drew closer, she just made him fly back again, placing herself in a safe magnetic bubble. He would not hurt her, no one would.

"Think twice before you attack a mutant; there's tons of us around here," she continued. A quiet voice at the back of her head was itching for her to do something else, something with the powers she had festering inside her.

Easily, she refused.

He should've been more prepared, but being in mid-flash his defensive capabilities were down, and he really was sent flying. He rolled when he hit the ground, gritting his teeth and glaring petulantly.

"Stop that, you're not making it any fun at all!" Grell snapped, almost childishly. He held his chainsaw defensively, and took a sliding step towards Pixie. "If you're not going to play with me yourself, maybe you'd rather stay in your bubble and watch me tear your pretty Pixie to pieces." He sighed dreamily, ending with a shallow laugh.

"I'm planning on doing it anyway - an audience wouldn't change too much, now would it?"

Lorna didn't say anything. Her bubble faded easily, and she flew over to Pixie's side as quickly as possible. "I want to play," she assured him wickedly. Her eyes flashed with green energy again, and she grinned.

"But my kind of game involves this."

She used her powers again, this time trying to throw him upwards and spin his body a little. If that didn't work, she'd simply pull anything metallic and smack him with it. The voice in the back of her head kept urging her to hurt him just a little more, but Lorna ignored it. It was faint, so quiet and easy to tuck away.

It might have been the concussion, or it might have been a defense mechanism to keep her from passing out from fear, but from the time Lorna became involved in the struggle, Megan could feel herself... detach. She watched the fight between them from one corner of the room where she had made herself as small as possible, and it felt almost like watching a cartoon, or one of Mr. Logan's DR sesssions.

When he came at her again, she only blinked, and thought, this is the part where I'm rescued again. And surely enough, she was right. Vaguely Megan wondered why she suddenly felt warmer, and it took her several seconds to realize she'd clung onto her mysterious green savior, while keeping one black eye on the hilariously doll-like figure of Grell.

Grell, predictably, spun like a top. He snarled, sticking his chainsaw deep into the floor and pinning himself in place with it - casting a dirty look up at Lorna, he lunged again, aiming for her legs.

"Fun, but not quite my style." He brought his chainsaw in a heavy arc, seeking blood. "I could use entertainment; why not a quick peek at your history while I cut you to ribbons?"

"My history is not one you want to look at," Lorna hissed, putting her bubble up again to keep her and Pixie safe. "I'm not a hero anymore; I will kill you if you push me."

She scowled, lifting her hands within the bubble and making pipes and all sorts of metal rush into the room, spinning and shaping into weapons. "Why don't you play with these while I decide what type of mood I'm in."

As he lunged at her legs, her metal pieces flung towards him.

[Police muns, here's your spot! It'll be safe to say Grell's beaten by now and Lorna's gone, and editing can be done to fix any little bits.]

The cruiser pulled up to the scene and Jono was out as soon as Robyn had stopped, which afforded him a glimpse of green hair as their informant left. The police database had identified the comm number as belonging to Lorna Dane: the hair colour and the thick, warped metal restraining Grell Sutcliffe confirmed it.

"Police," Jono said, flashing his badge, although really it was self-evident from the squad car. "You've the right to remain silent, anything you say can be used against you in a court of law, all that."

Off to the side was the blood-spattered form of Pixie; Sutcliffe himself was likewise decorated. Christ, if Polaris hadn't been there...

Edited 2010-03-30 03:24 (UTC)

Robyn moved on automatic; getting out of the car and sending the Hueys out to cover the scene. Not that it looked like the man wrapped in twisted metal was going to be a threat.

"Jesus. I'm calling an ambulance."

Grell lay there limp and thoroughly defeated, in both body and spirit. Damn all of these psychos running around being...psychos. Justice-seeking psychos, still, but psychos. He glanced over at Jono, wincing at the sight.

"Is there really any use for that? It's not as if it's terribly difficult to figure out what happened." He was getting so sick of losing all the time, and flex as he might, he couldn't get out of the warped metal holding him fast. He wasn't even sure where his chainsaw had ended up in the fight.

"Oh Pixie, your saviors are here." He scoffed, and then his tone sweetened. "Don't fret though, dear. I won't forget about you."

She reminded herself that it was better Lorna had left him for the police. In a world like this, it was actually safer for him to be in jail, because if he was killed, he'd just reappear somewhere else, and who knows how long it would be until he was caught again...

Megan really wanted to run to the police, but with Grell conscious and Lorna not around anymore, she was almost afraid to move, even if he was restrained. Instead she just coughed a couple of times and stayed in her safety-corner.

"Do it," Jono replied to Robyn, then asked, more quietly, "Sit with her until they get here? I'll put the murdering bastard in the cruiser in the meanwhile, but I think the girl's in shock." This was serious: if Pixie hadn't been sitting, he would have thought she was unconscious.

"Shut up," he instructed Grell. "You've bigger things to worry about now." Handcuffs weren't necessary for this; Jono used his sonics to lift Grell - metal and all - into the air, and began to walk him towards the police cruiser.

Robyn nodded to Jono as she radioed in the location. She grabbed the car's first-aid kit out of the trunk and hurried over to the girl huddling in the corner.

"Don't listen to that man, honey, he's going away. Can you tell me if anything hurts?"

Megan nodded slightly, but kept her eyes solidly on Grell, even as he started away, rather than on the officer trying to ask her stupid questions. Yes, things hurt, damn it. And she could barely hear the questions over an annoying ringing in her ears.

"Head hurts," she mumbled, "I feel sick, like dizzy-sick." Meg leaned to one side and let her head land on the wall, which was thankfully cool, and felt nice. She started to let her eyes drift close sleepily, before snapping them open again. She shouldn't fall asleep here. It wasn't safe.

"I want to go home."

"Tch! You're no one to tell me when to be silent." Grell huffed indignantly, slightly surprised but nonplussed about being lifted with sonics. "You had better take care with my scythe, wherever that woman tossed it - I'll be wanting it later, and that is very sensitive technology." He paused, groaning slightly - he was hurting himself, and nobody was asking him if he was alright. Cads.

"You should be nicer to a lady. I've been taking far too much abuse in the last fortnight than I ever should have."

Jono rolled his eyes as Grell began to fuss - they usually did - and made a mental note to look for the weapon.

"Technology? What kind?" Talking through the sonics was hard, requiring a lot of concentration, but it was something he really needed to practice anyway. He opened the cruiser door and tried to navigate Grell in to the back seat.

"A lady?" Jono cut the sonics and appraised Grell. "I think you might be a little confused, there." The (admittedly effeminate) bloke looked beaten, but not concussed.

The kid's eyes weren't holding focus. Definitely a concussion, hopefully not a fractured skull. "The paramedics are gonna want to look and make sure your head's okay, after that you'll get to go home. Do you know what day it is?"

Starsmore seemed to have things well in hand, Robyn could focus on keeping Pixie conscious. The pink hair was matted with blood on one side, and Robyn pulled a sterile bandage out of its packet to try to stanch the bleeding.

"Just a little longer, okay? You're doing good."

"You really think I'm terribly stupid, don't you?" Grell gave him an incredulous (and huffy) look. "I'm not going to say anything. If you're so terribly interested, learn yourself. But don't damage it!" He snapped at the end, before the sonics were cut and he actually listened to what Jono was saying.

"Of course you wouldn't understand. I am an actress; my passionate feminine soul simply can't be denied. For all intents and purposes, I am as woman as any other."

What day it is... what day it is... "Monday?" she guessed hopefully, but really could have cared less. "I went shopping..."

The officer was reaching for her head, so Megan squirmed a bit and weakly tried to push her hands away, "My head hurts," she explained. Hadn't she said that already? "My mum. I want to call my mum. I want to go home."

Wait, was her mum there already? She couldn't see her.

Without thinking much of it, Megan leaned forward and let the weight of her upper body rest against the police woman, even allowing her to bandage her head if necessary. The fight wasn't worth it, and she was so sleepy...

"Right." Jono secured Grell into the back seat, metal and all. Someone with super-strength or something at the jail was going to have to get the wanker out of that mess. Although Jono had half a mind to take Grell to the psychiatric ward, what with the lady bit. And the fact he was a crazed murderer, that too. "Be a good girl and sit tight, then."

He shut the door, aware of the vigilant Hueys, and made his way back to Slinger and the girl - Megan, he reminded himself. She didn't look so good.

"Hey, stay awake there," Jono brought the foil shock blanket out of the first aid kit and wrapped it around Megan's shoulders, since Slinger had her hands full.

"The ambulance should be here any minute," he said, not sure who he was reassuring.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

They always say truth will find a way

no subject

no subject

no subject

klfj hope I'm not stepping on any toes with this D:

it's all good!

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

The main event

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

The dénouement

Re: The dénouement

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject