(no subject)

[dielikeyouwantme]

Characters: Grell and YOU (and caliginous, secretly)
Setting: Early on July 1st. Pick a floor, any floor. (A part of this mind control plot. Since Karkat's involvement is being handwaved, and Grell can conceivably have her emotions altered more than once, I'm not picky about the location.)
Format: Either, but prose preferred.
Summary: Grell has been feeling testy, lately. Bloodthirsty, even.
Warnings: Violence, potential character death.

Grell is beginning to forget the last time she slept.

She knows the rules, just like everyone else, but what's the point in abiding by them? No tower is going to push her around, and tell her what to do. Especially not one that thinks it's funny, to keep stranding her here, without her acquaintances to amuse her.

It must be approaching four nights, now. She yawns, and readjusts her chainsaw, on her shoulder.

The days are blurring together. Everything has been a blur, really, since William and Ronald were taken away from her. Not because she's worried, she reminds herself. But what is she meant to do, with no one interesting to talk to? She spends her nights killing monsters, and her days dreaming up newer, bloodier ways of carrying out her little murders. The past few days, she hasn't been able to escape the thought that she's going about this all wrong. The monsters are no fun. Her fellow tower citizens, though... Now, there's an idea.

An idea that won't go away (not that she tries hard to fight it). Today, it seems particularly strong. In fact, within the last few minutes, it's risen like a fever pitch, in her mind. What have the monsters ever done to her? Nothing. And the other inhabitants of the tower? Everything. Every single one of them should be writhing in pain, in place of William and Ronald. Every single one of them owes her the entertainment, the company, that her friends can't currently provide.

Comments

Floor 20! Nice open air~ Can shift to floor 31 eventually!

[lamorteblanc]

There was a thought that someone out there had the scalpel blades the tower had so conveniently packed along with his possessions. He hadn't recovered them yet nor had he yet to find all of his belongings. It had been perhaps a good few weeks or so since he'd found them missing, two since he'd recovered his cigarettes and at least three more of his little magical catalysts. There were two more, he was certain. But those would turn up eventually. For now, he's been backtracking here and there just a bit each day.

Floor twenty was today's target.

He surveys the area, glancing off at the ramp where his cigarettes had been precariously placed before drawing out the case to light one for himself. The nicotine helped him think. Of course the thief wouldn't come back. He'd already scowered this entire floor himself. With a sigh, he lets out a drag and turns to go. But he isn't alone now, is he? He's aware of a second presence, one that seems particularly strong and smells of death quite literally and figuratively. It sets him on edge but sure as hell he isn't about to show it just yet. Instead he'll wait for it to pass or confront it if it wishes to be confronted. At any rate, it would be a good test to see if his catalysts were tampered in any way during the time they had disappeared.

Re: Floor 20! Nice open air~ Can shift to floor 31 eventually!

[dielikeyouwantme]

Not at all alone, though whether Muraki senses Grell first, or she him, is hard to say. Somewhere, farther down the ramp, she pauses, the breeze carrying the sound of movement and the smell of cigarette smoke down to her. She's seen very few people smoking, here. This individual, whoever he is, must derive a good deal of pleasure from knowing he has the luxury of those cigarettes, a small, homey indulgence, when so many other inmates of the tower don't.

And that just makes her want to take them from him, and hoard them away, whether she manages to get her chainsaw into him, or not.

The click-click-click of her heels intensifies, as she rounds the curve of the ramp, and comes upon her smoking friend. She laughs, a high, clear, noise, as if he had been privy to her thoughts. "Oh, you're handsome, too. This is going to be so much more fun than I thought. Look alive!" she cries, over the revving of her chainsaw, which she swings toward him, in a broad arc.

((Woohoo, you're back! Let's get right into it.))

Now I'm REALLY back! /sobbing into hands

[lamorteblanc]

Under normal circumstances, he never would have considered such a thing an indulgence. It was just another thing that helped him think, something that set his mind in the right place. As much as he'd hate to admit it, the nicotine had become a crutch. One that helped him through med school along with the caffeine among other things. But as most things that came into his life, he'd learned to make the most out of it. In his spellcasting for example.

The minute he hears the clicking of her heels, his senses are already called to attention. Even more when the chainsaw comes up. The minute it does, he lets his cigarette fall from his fingers. The ash circles around him, following the pattern of a magical array he'd set into place just in time to prevent the blade from coming down via a timely magical barrier. His eyes are wild under the momentary flash of purple upon impact as he strains to draw energy from his attacker, just to keep the barrier up a moment more and they glow with a strange light from the flavor.

Death.

He tastes it on her aura and her brimming energy.

Death.

He knows the taste of it well.

"How ironic that you should tell me to look alive." the doctor replies, the light in his eyes dying down once more. The barrier flares, however, attempting to push Grell away a good enough distance to give him some room to maneuver.