031 ☣ she has a lot of true colors

[fridgetothefire]

[Video, Public]

[The feed is at a slightly awkward angle, held one-handed. It's Anya and Two-Face. She's behind him, her chin on his shoulder on the scarred side, her other arm wrapped around him and holding a slim black knife at his throat. The knife and her hand are already thoroughly bloody, though his neck is - thus far - unscathed. Two-Face looks furious and strained. Anya looks fierce but cold and calm, almost serene.]

Two-Face is losing a lot of blood. Someone should come help him to the infirmary. We're in the library, historical nonfiction, MA to MC.

Comments

[with_my_teacup]

Not that I don't understand the urge to ventilate Precious Flower Number One in a few places, but... what happened?

[fridgetothefire]

He tried to strangle me.

He knows better now.

[with_my_teacup]

[Well, fuck, that was dumb of him. She can't see him rolling his eyes, but she can hear his grunt of disgust.] I'm on my way. Give me a call back if someone else gets there first and I'll help you clean up.

[fridgetothefire]

[Warm and a little relieved, because man she feels bad about getting blood on books :c ]

I will. Thanks, Riddick.

[with_my_teacup]

[Riddick's slower to get there than he might have been-- has been keeping himself real busy, needed to settle a few things before he could get in. But he does come, and with cleaning supplies, just in case. He knows how long it takes someone to bleed out, he knows what time he has.]

[fridgetothefire]

[Two-Face has a series of deep stab wounds peppering his lower body - one in his thigh, barely an inch from the artery, a few more to his abdomen, one to the kidney, plus his less visible shattered kneecap. She laid him down on the floor when he started sagging against her, though she didn't move far or put her knife away. She's - withdrawn, a little, but not frozen.]

Hey.

[with_my_teacup]

Hey.

[Riddick gives him a clinical once-over.] Yeah, he needs to go to the infirmary.

You and me need to talk after I haul his ass up there.

[fridgetothefire]

[She nods.]

Yes. You - do that, and. Give me something to wipe off with, I want to change clothes and I'd rather not track blood over any more of the library.

Thank you.

[halftheman]

[ Two-Face just eyes the pair, panting softly-- pale with pain and bloodloss, he's bleeding. ]

Delicate maiden, isn't she? Just stabbed a guy near to death, and she wants to clean up.

[with_my_teacup]

Yeah, it's disappointing when people won't lie down and take it, ain't it.

C'mon, let's get your ass up to the infirmary.

[He exchanges his cleaning supplies for Two-face's bloody body, hauling the man up into a bridal carry so that he can elevate the legs.]

[fridgetothefire]

[She cleans herself off as best she can, slipping the knife back in its place. There's an urge, for a moment, to get on her hands and knees and start mopping at the blood on the floor as well, and she honestly doesn't know if it's from some sort of Lady MacBeth-esque squeamish compulsion or simply because of her tidy housekeeping instincts.

She dismisses it as unproductive for the moment and slips away. Her new warden bathroom is still there, which is a minor relief. She scrubs herself clean in about five minutes, puts on new clothes, and texts Riddick when she's on her way to his room.]

LATERSPAM

[with_my_teacup]

[After he gets Dent to the infirmary, he detours to clean himself up-- he got pretty bloody too-- and swings by the kitchen to pull together some of the wreckage of his stress-baking. There's a lot of that. There's been a lot of that. Today's exercise in not breaking any necks: blueberry scones.

He knocks on his own door, then heads in.]

[fridgetothefire]

[She's sitting on one of the furs on the floor, knees pulled up but not tightly coiled, her fingers fiddling with the pile of the pelt. She glances up at him, and she looks more grounded than she did before, though it's certainly not her usual cheer.]

Is he going to die?

[She cares, but she's not upset about the possibility.]

[with_my_teacup]

Not unless he decides to 'toll his way out of that knee recovery, I don't think.

[He could be wrong; his impression was that he got to the infirmary in time, though.

He puts the plastic container of pastry near her and sinks to the floor in front of her, stealing a scone for himself.]

So. How you doing.

[fridgetothefire]

[She picks up a scone and nibbles.]

Uh. Jumbled?

[Yeah. That sounds like the right word.]

[with_my_teacup]

I can see that.

I don't actually care what his reasons are for pulling this shit. I never care what his reasons are. But I should probably ask anyway.

[fridgetothefire]

He hates me. I knew it, I didn't back off.

[She shrugs.]

I don't really want to talk about him.

[She does want to talk. Just...Two-Face can explain his own damn self. She's tired of trying to gauge him.]

[with_my_teacup]

[He holds out his hand towards a corner, where what could have been another pile of fur-- but really isn't-- unfolds itself lazily. Partner investigates his hand, licks it, gets a scone, goes back to a sleep he doesn't need.

Partner likes Anya. He remembers she smelled like Arthas' magic. He didn't even bother to wake up for her when she came in, because Arthas magic is good magic so Anya's allowed. Undead logic.

It's a useful silence for Riddick, check-on-dog yes-good-dog, a little time to think.]

I'ma need your input on something. But... later. Definitely later.

You hurt at all?

[fridgetothefire]

[Good dog. She smiles a little, watching them.]]

Some bruising. Less than I usually come out of practice sessions with, honestly.

[with_my_teacup]

Good. You did a good job. Effective, not stupid, not cruel.

[That's verging on 'talking about him,' though; he lapses back into quiet.]

[fridgetothefire]

I did like it. At a certain point.

[When she knew she was going to win. She's not distraught by this, and less surprised than she wants to be. She's not pleased with it either. It's just. A thing she's going to have to deal with.]

[with_my_teacup]

[He nods.]

Liking it's fine. If you know when to stop. If you don't get greedy. He'll probably live.

I do know the feeling.

[fridgetothefire]

[She nods, blows out a slow breath.]

The only time I ever killed someone with my own hands, she was - she didn't deserve it. It was awful.

This was about as different as it could be, but it feels mixed-up in my head. It'll probably sort out if I just let it settle.

[with_my_teacup]

Adrenaline's not real good for philosophical thinking.

Speaking of which. Lemme see your hands; need to check on your circulation, see if the stress is fucking with it.

[fridgetothefire]

[She holds them out dutifully.]