Tannusen (
black_black_heart) wrote in
genessia2017-01-14 06:18 pm
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[ action | closed ] terrible things happen to good people every day
I am one of the terrible things."
— Marianna Paige
Who: Cassian Lynch, Trahearne, Abel Nightroad, Tannusen (and possibly more, will add as needed)
What: Multiple threads involving the Quiet Minds event and its aftermath.
When: First thread is on Friday the 13th. Subsequent threads are anything from a few hours to over a week later.
Warnings: A LOT. Graphic violence and gore, on-screen character death and dismemberment, cannibalism, attempted sexual assault, mentions of past assault, and more angst in the aftermath than you can shake a tree at.
no subject
The door slams open, gun in hand, just in time to see one of them rip the throat out of the other.
... Well that's going to stain the carpet. He'll worry about that later, with a disgusted grumble, the shot gun is pointed at the last one. Hopefully low enough on energy where he doesn't have to worry about that fucked up defense spell.
No, he can't really say anything pithy or witty right now, his jaw is fucked up.
What he can do however, is try to blast the remaining, living half right off the face of this planet.
no subject
Somehow, there was only one body staining up Cassian's carpet by the time the human could get close enough to see if he hit. One body, with all the damage of both.
Dead people don't have personalities to be split apart, after all.
Under all the damage, however, the body was human. More human than it had ever looked on this world, in fact. Rounded ears, white sclera, no stripes or strange canines or slits in the fingertips for claws. The Wyrd was still in effect on the house, but the corpse had instantly lost what made it Faerie.
Even the chimerical clothing faded out, leaving the corpse in a pair of very bloodied jeans, boots, and a shredded up t-shirt that had probably had something stupid printed on it at some point before the day's events.
no subject
Shit that wasn't a good sign.
And no iron knife either, SHIT. He darts at the corpse, desperate to make sure there's still a heartbeat in there.
Shit, he fucked up.
The poker will have to do.
The heretic, fueled by anger and hunger, didn't find it so hard now to jam the poker under the now corpses' ribs, breaking more bone and tearing through skin. Body pulped, everything ruined, he glared at the still, motionless organ sitting inside Tannusen's chest.
All for nothing. He'd have to satisfy himself with someone else.
... But for now, there was nothing wrong with just a little bit of pettiness.
His fingers dug into the cavity, scraping off the membrane before tearing bloody chunks of the useless heart off with his teeth, his mind casually going through what else he had to do today.
Stupid useless goddamn fairy.