Excuse me... your car is on fire.

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

Inexperienced. Too arrogant to be scared.

From:

Sure, exactly that.

Where're you headed?

From:

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.]

From:

[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?

From:

Aren't you observant?

[More stairs.]

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

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

From:

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.

From:

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.]

From:

"A conversation" is a fairly illustrative standard.

[Crowley willed the door open and follows after.]

From:

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.]

From:

[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.

From:

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.

From:

[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.]

From:

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.

From:

[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.

From:

[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.]

From:

[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?

From:

[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...

From:

[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 Date: 2015-06-28 04:26 am (UTC)

From:

[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.]

From:

[Arthas switches tack and Crowley winces, not at the layer of ice building around his shield but Letty's now-bleeding hand. He can reshape the shield around the sword, outpacing the ice, but he can't do anything about someone else's wound.] Except keep a promise, apparently.

Which I probably shouldn't get in the way of, but he made one to me too. [He turns to Arthas with his arms crossed.] Don't try to deny it.

I'm still lost here. How'd she get under your skin?

From:

She's right. I don't. [He snarls at Crowley.

If he had his plague, a cut would be all he needed, but no, he can't Infest, he'll have to be creative some more...

He keeps his warden busy with the ice and starts a Defile underneath Letty - or tries. The shield makes it difficult, and the carpet turns into a devouring tarlike sludge in a neat circle around her.]

From:

It's a talent.

[She snarls this, because about the time she notices what the ground is doing, about the time her hand really starts to throb, about the time he refuses to even pretend like he has a sensible cell in his body, she loses her patience.

She's done it once already, and she knows she'll pay for it later - possibly before this conversation is done - but it's not getting anywhere otherwise. She borrows the Admiral's powers one more time to in turn siphon Arthas's from him, since they're obviously too much of a distraction.]

Arthas, just stop for a second, goddammit. Please.

From:

[He feels the magic go, the ice sword falling dead to the ground, the glow on the surface of his eyes fizzling out. He's frustrated, he's furious at everything, at being trapped, at being alone again, at being a toy for wardens to deprive or reward at their leisure.]

Why the hell should I?

[The whites show all the way around his eyes and he throws himself against the fused armor, squeezes the frozen joints until the leather creaks.]

From:

Because you are not this stupid!

[He's furious, and she's shouting to be heard over his efforts to beat himself senseless on nothing, pissed off and bleeding all over her goddamn shirt because she presses her hand to her side a moment later, wraps the hem of her tanktop over top and grips with her good hand, swears low and rapidfire in Spanish when her breath catches.

But.]

I talked to Sylvanas. She told me some shit that makes sense, and I want to know if it applies to you too. But no one can actually listen to you if all you're doing is making them into popsicles or trying to stab them in the face for literally no reason!

From: