sauntervaguelydownwards | 07 🍎 Well I ain't evil, I'm just good-looking

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07 🍎 Well I ain't evil, I'm just good-looking

[Spam for Arthas]
[Crowley appears a bit too calm for someone who is now on the clock. Especially for someone whose inmate is a cautionary tale of megalomania and terrifying necromancy mixed in with pride before falls and deals with the devil (although he thinks he can do something with that). Yes, he's actually kind of nervous, but he's reminding himself very hard that beneath it all Arthas is human.

That makes him no less dangerous, but it puts him on more familiar ground. Crowley likes humans. He'll just have to give himself a little time to synthesize "human" with "undead and homicidal."

When he gets to Arthas' door he knocks and opens it to the barrier Pounce put up, and leans against the frame with an unlit cigarette between his lips.]

Well you're fucked, aren't you?

[Public]
It's been six months and no one realized I was a warden? Ask someone to open one door for you and suddenly you're the bad guy. You don't have much faith in your fellow man, do you?

Probably prudent.

Anyway, just a note: [the camera catches Arthas' door, open to the hallway but blocked by what looks like a wall of purple fire.] The faceless voiceless authority has spoken and zombie Alexander the Great is mine. Get your own.

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[Well, he's being baited. There are options here, and the first is going back to talk to Crowley. Obviously, that would be breaking a promise he just made. No. He won't establish that kind of precedent.

The second is to assume the man is useless, and continue to try to escape on his own. Nothing gained, nothing lost.

Third... well, there's nothing lost in just reiterating.]

Get me out and I'll talk to you.

[Crowley sighs deeply and shakes his head, resting it against the doorframe.]

Fine. But I like you better when you're in your purple cave.

[He thinks, and the barrier fizzles out. Normally he'd have to struggle with that type of magic, but the Admiral had made things easy on Crowley. That's starting to turn around.]

[A small avalanche of ice and smoke falls through the door once the barrier falls; the remnants of many, many attempts to batter it down. The cabin is utterly ruined on the other side - if there was ever furniture or lights, they're now in chunks and splinters.

A heavy steel boot plants itself on top of the icefall and it hisses and steams again as it fuses into a more passable ramp.]

I'm sure you do.

[Arthas descends, undead, fully armored, with one runeblade of diamond-hard ice in his hand another strapped to his back.]

You can talk and walk, can't you?

[He starts down the hall without waiting for an answer.]

[Crowley steps back when the ice cascades out, his snakeskin shoes covered. He shakes them off irritably, now less impressed than he should be. Arthas' power may be something incredible and terrifying, but Crowley loses a great deal of awe when it comes to getting his clothes wet and dirty.]

Warn me next time. If I knew you were going to do that I'd've worn boots.

[Crowley rolls his eyes behind his sunglasses when Arthas starts away and speeds up to match his pace. He'd much rather amble his way after him but the man is huge and he has to power-stride to compensate.]

No, you're going to walk and talk. I'm going to walk and listen. How long have you been here again? I remember hearing you've got the record.

[Arthas has no intention of warning him next time.]

Five years. How long have you been here? Six months? Seven?

Six, yes. As you may suspect I'm a scared, inexperienced slip of a thing with no idea what he's doing.

[Arthas rolls his eyes, pulls open the door to the south stairwell.]

Inexperienced. Too arrogant to be scared.

Sure, exactly that.

Where're you headed?

You're following me. You'll find out.

[He takes the stairs down, not especially telling in and of itself. The only thing above floor 1 is the deck.]

[So that's how it's going to be, for now. Crowley steps lightly after him.]

Not doing much in the way of talking, are you?

Aren't you observant?

[More stairs.]

Your job is to figure me out. I'm not motivated to help.

Edited 2015-06-26 07:10 (UTC)

Aren't you, too?

No, you're obligated. [He's glad Arthas isn't watching because he has to take the stairs three by three to keep pace.] Freedom in return for a conversation, that's what we agreed.

I am talking. You didn't say how much talking.

[Level Seven. He pushes the door open again, doesn't bother to hold it for Crowley, starts down the hall.]

"A conversation" is a fairly illustrative standard.

[Crowley willed the door open and follows after.]

Mmm. Hold that thought, will you?

[At 7-18, he knocks. The grip on his sword shifts subtly - from a carry to a ready stance.]

[It's the knock that makes her suspicious, perhaps ironically; not only are there limited people that clink when they knock aboard, but anyone that she trusts anymore just walks in. Anyone looking to kill her or knock her out and rob her again tend to be a bit more timid these days.

So she answers with a gun in her hand, pulls the door open and stands in the doorway with her jaw set.]

You are without a doubt the least convincing Witness I've ever seen.

Oh come on.

[The Admiral powers come in handy again and Crowley fuzes Arthas' armor in place with a thought, as sturdily as if it had been forged that way. To Letty he shook his head.]

First walk in the park, sorry.

[Arthas hears the hiss, the smell of burning kevlar, and snarls. YOU HAVE RUINED HIS ARMOR. He only makes one real try to move - pulls against the straps until he bruises his arm trying.]

Light damn it!

[He strains against the metal again, then abruptly decides against it entirely. He can't move, but he doesn't have to.

His eyes flare glacier-blue. Deadly cold explodes from him in every direction. The paint on the walls peels and freezes solid. It howls like a blizzard at full tilt, wind carrying slivers of ice fast enough to make them deadly shrapnel.]

It's a-

[Letty flicks a glance at Crowley, opens her mouth, barely has time to register what's happened before she sees the glow from Arthas's eyes.

She's not sure she really needs to raise her hand to trigger her own Admiral powers, but it makes it easier for her to focus when she imagines the forcefield dropping down into place over him like a snowglobe.]

I was expecting him.

[He had told Arthas to warn him next time the ice came out. He pushes on his own end, limiting the wave of cold. Arthas can keep an aura of ice shrapnel and chill winds going as long as he wants, it just won't extend more than a foot away from his body.]

Relax, I'll set it right when we've all calmed down a bit.

So. Someone share the juicy details.

[The Remorseless Winter range contracts, spills up and frosts the side of the rounded force field nearly opaque. Then even that dissipates, and all that's left is a few inches of snow, useless, a waste of effort.

His eyes don't go back to normal, and when he speaks it's more like a rumble of thunder than a human voice.]

I made a promise.

[He lets go of his sword. It hangs in the air as if held by an invisible hand, then makes an enthusiastic attempt to stab Crowley in the face.

The sword across Arthas' back frees itself as well. It'll be heading for Letty shortly.]

[Letty, in her turn, strengthens the forcefield.]

He insists on being stupid, is what he means.

[The moment she notices the sword on his back moving, she'll retrieve that one just as she did the previous sets of weapons, if Crowley doesn't get to it first.]

Speaking of stupid: which idiot gave you this shit back?

[When he sees the other sword hang in the air Crowley has only a second before it shoots for him and he sets up a forcefield of his own.]

You don't have to answer that.

This promise, though...

[Crowley's sword screeches tip-first against the shield the demon made; it chips ice but what's more worrying is the second sword suddenly vanishing into Letty's hand. Arthas curses in Vrykul.]

I don't take orders from either of you.

[He pushes more of his will into each of the swords. Splitting his attention would be dangerous if he wasn't paralyzed anyway, so fuck it. Crowley's channels a spell to put a block of ice around his shield, swallow them both whole.

Letty's is more simple. It bursts into icy needles in her hand, like a four-foot long Prince Rupert's drop.]

Edited 2015-06-28 04:26 (UTC)

[The comment from Crowley gets him a strange look - ] One: he doesn't have to do anything. [- which causes her to miss the fact that Arthas's focus has changed.]

Two: I didn't give you an order. I a- sonnuvabitch! [She lets go immediately but the damage is already done, of course; the ice slices into her hand in the splitsecond it takes her to instinctively shove everything away from her using the power she's already using.

She glares at Arthas, shoving the gun into the waistband of her jeans so she can hold her injured hand with her non-injured one.]

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spam - i'm sorry this is so late.....

spam - why? <3

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Re: spam

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spam - ty for letting me edit

spam - np!