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Tweak says, "Stardrops!"

wantedthedevil (wantedthedevil) wrote in colligo_threads,
@ 2012-10-18 18:02:00

Entry tags:

abby, clint barton, lucifer, meg

WHO: Lucifer, Abby, & Clint Barton
WHAT: Lucifer's human, and Abby & Clint have no issues enacting justice.
WHEN: October 18th; Afternoon
WHERE: Downtown Colligo
RATING: R (violence & character death)

Lucifer had decided that it would probably be best to get away from the communal lodgings for awhile. Apparently, murdering someone younger than you was rather seriously frowned upon by the people gathered here, and being seriously unable to defend himself anymore, surrounding himself with individuals with the potential to strike out against him was not the wisest of ideas. The locals didn't seem to care one bit that he'd struck someone down in cold blood, less than he himself actually seemed to care about it, so wandering around in the crowds of hapless and near mindless bodies that filled this place set him a little more at ease. Especially as it allowed him to block out the feeling in the back of his mind like he was missing something that would tell him just why he shouldn't have done what he did. Morals, ethics, a sense of common decency, all of that were far, far beyond him, but none of them seemed to strike the right cord in being what would tell him the reason he would regret his actions.

Not that he did at the moment. No, there was absolutely nothing in him that cared a thing for the girl that had gotten in his way. No thoughts had been paid to her, specifically, since the second that her body was out of his sights. Instead, whatever thoughts had drifted back in that direction had been towards his mind, his current human state, and whatever backlash he may suffer because of others' disapproval. Lucifer kept waiting for one of the Winchester boys to pop up and finish things once and for all.

After all, who would pass up the opportunity to shank the devil?

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tobeunmade
2012-10-19 04:37 am UTC (link)

The sudden, sharp pain in his shoulder was a shock, and he stared at Meg in confusion. Her father? What the fuck? He only managed to keep hold of his bow by force of will, and his other hand immediately came up to cover the wound. That was seriously the last time he was having sex with a woman who gave off crazy vibes. It didn't matter that they were usually great in the sack, it never ended well. Ever. And now he'd just been stabbed and she had flung Abby through the air with freaky mind powers and this was so far above his pay grade. Seriously...what ever happened to crazy dictators and ninja assassins? His life had turned into evil gods with magic cubes, alien planets, vampires, and chicks with black eyes and psychic powers. This wasn't what he'd signed up for when he'd joined SHIELD.

Then Abby and Meg were fighting and he almost cheered when Abby got the upper hand and bit Meg. He'd liked her, but she'd just stabbed him and she was trying to protect that bastard who'd murdered a kid. She might have been a good fuck, but he wasn't exactly weeping over her imminent death. Except then she screamed and black smoke came out of her. He stared, shocked and unable to move, as the smoke rushed at him.

"What the..." He didn't get any more than that out before the smoke was filling him, choking him, and there was something forcing its way inside of him, into every part of him. He struggled, but couldn't stop it from forcing him into some small, blocked off corner of his own mind. It was like Loki all over again, except entirely different. Still, he couldn't miss the similarities. This was worse and it was better, worse because he could still see everything and he knew how wrong it was and that someone else had taken over, and better because at least she wasn't making him like this. Still, he screamed in outrage in his own head even as his eyes turned inky black.

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evilbitch
2012-10-19 04:49 am UTC (link)

If Meg hadn't been so focused on Lucifer, she might have felt something for the man whose body she was currently using. Not necessarily affection but not really amusement either, it was something she couldn't quite label or even really identify at all. But it didn't matter. Because her focus was on Lucifer and nothing else, not Clint screaming inside of his own mind, or the vampire bitch sucking the blood out of a meat-suit that Meg had grown a bit attached to wearing, or anything else at all, mattered in the slightest. Because her Father, her very reason for even existing, was lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.

Approaching his body with careful steps, making sure to keep her back to Abby so she wouldn't see her black eyes, Meg - who now, she supposed, would have to go by Clint for the time being - stared down at Lucifer with an expression that was as close to concerned as she was capable of feeling. It was obvious he was dying. He had minutes left, if that. And it was equally obvious that a vampire had been his attacker. Quickly going over the various, yet still quite obscure, things Abby had said - both on the network as well as to Clint, in a private conversation where they'd apparently cooked up this scheme in the first place - Meg realized something with startling clarity.

If Lucifer died from his wounds, he would become what Abby was.

It made sense, she supposed. Why else would the little bitch let someone else kill him? Why not just take the kill for herself? No, that had to be the reason. Meg was willing to bet everything she had, and was, on it. Which she realized she was pretty much going to do as she slowly reached behind her and wrapped her hand around Clint's sword.

"Lowest of the low," she murmured, knowing Lucifer would understand the reference to vampires - creatures who were nothing more than bottom feeders and not even worth the effort it took to kill them - and hoping that would be enough to let him know that the only reason she was doing this was to prevent him from becoming that which every other "monster" in existence despised. Then she drew Clint's sword, an expression of utter devotion stealing across her features for the briefest of seconds, before bringing it down in one swift, striking blow across his neck.

The deed done, and her Creator dead at her own hand, Meg turned Clint's head toward Abby. The vampire was sitting on her haunches, watching the scene unfold with a blood-stained face that had once again resumed its human guise. Meg's former meatsuit was lying before her, the odd angle of her neck serving as proof that the vampire child had broken it mid-feeding. Likely to prevent her from rising from the dead as well.

If the bitch hadn't just sealed Lucifer's fate, Meg could almost respect her for that. Instead, though, it took everything in her power to keep her expression neutral as she simply tipped her head at the girl then turned on Clint's heels and strode away. She had things to do, a new meat-suit to find, a lot to think about, and Winchesters to avoid. And she sure as hell wasn't going to get any of it done while standing around, staring at the little freak that had taken her Father away from her.

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