All together now (binary_star) wrote in nybynightic, @ 2020-09-21 03:08:00 |
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Entry tags: | activity type: narrative, activity type: plot prompt, character: the confluence |
Who: The Confluence, Smiler the Defiler (NPC)
What: Smiler is gift-wrapped and there's no guidelines as to what Connie shouldn't do to him...
When: 9/20, into 9/21 for several hours.
Where: A Camarilla safehouse
Warnings: Gore, mutilation, complete dismemberment, murder. Descriptions kept brief but here we are.
The Confluence hadn’t been expecting a text message from the Gangrel hound. Nor had he been expecting to be invited to a safe house in the city. When he arrived, he was concerned that maybe he was in trouble but instead, he found an unconscious man tied to a chair with a cloth gag in his mouth and a bow on his head. Connie tilted his head to one side and then reached out for the little card attached to it. It said ‘Happy Birthday’ with a glittery cupcake on it. It wasn’t his birthday so he was still confused, at least until he read the inside. So this was Smiler. Luke. Whatever he wanted to be called.
Connie ran his fingers over his limited facial hair and tucked the card into a pocket. “You’ve been giving me so much trouble,” he commented airily as he slipped his jacket off and tossed it over the arm of a chair. Smiler jerked in the chair but Ariel had made sure he had no leverage to escape. “You made me lose just a little bit more of my sanity and that’s so precious, so rare... I don’t appreciate it.” The shirt came off, tossed onto the chair with the jacket. Smiler recoiled. “Oh don’t get any ideas. I just don’t want to get any blood on my clothes.”
Oh, look. A fireplace poker. Connie picked it up and took a swing -- but he pulled it short and laughed like it was just a joke between friends. Haha, so funny. So why was he setting it on the stove, one end on a burner as he lit it up? He didn’t need it to get red hot. Just... Hot enough. Anyway, there wasn’t anything to start a fire in the fireplace with so he was improvising. Improvise, improvise. Everybody improvise. Make it up as you go. It’s Connie’s turn so play away... Connie started going through drawers, picking out implements that had been left behind by someone else. He wouldn’t need too many - they just needed to be strong enough.
He stripped down the rest of the way and then dragged Smiler and his chair into the bathroom, dumping him gracelessly into the tub. Smiler whacked his head on the drain and his eyes fluttered shut. Obviously, he wasn’t dead but it would do for now. “Whoopsie,” Connie shrugged a shoulder and went to check on the poker. By the time he got back to the bathtub with it, Luke was starting to stir.
Without a word, Connie pulled the gag out of his mouth then shoved the burning hot fireplace poker down his throat. There was screaming then gurgling then nothing. It wouldn’t last forever - or it shouldn’t have but right after that, Connie got to work. “All you needed to do,” he said as he started to painstakingly remove Luke’s fingers at the first knuckle, “was focus your energies on the Prince. Make him play. But you stuck your little sticky fingers into the cookie jar.”
“Cops don’t reveal who their murder suspects are or the evidence they have. Why should Kindred do any different? And I know half of that was that little Nosferatu thin blood but she’s skipped town so here we are,” he noted. As he spoke, he just kept going - second knuckle, third knuckle, dropping pieces of fingers into the bathtub like it was just something you did every day. Now that more damage was being done, blood pouring out of the wounds, there was no way the throat wound was going to heal. And no matter how much Luke tried, he just couldn’t scream with that burn clogging up his throat.
“It’s just... so inconsiderate,” Connie faked a sob as the first hand came off at the wrist and thudded into the tub. Smiler was legitimately crying. Silly little Caitiff. “If you hadn’t been so fucking stupid, so arrogant, your girlfriend would have never died.” The other hand. The arm at the elbow. Smiler was starting to feel angry, anguished, and extremely woozy in a way that only a Kindred could. Kine would have passed out or bled out already but Luke was trying so hard to hang on - any minute he’d get his chance to escape, right? But Ariel had tied him tight and no matter how he struggled against the chair, there was just no getting up.
The knife Connie had found in the kitchen wasn’t nearly sharp enough but with a little push of Kindred strength, he was doing decently enough. “This is going to take a while,” Connie lamented, “I haven’t even started on the toes...”
It took quite some time to finish the useless Caitiff off. Now he just had this bloody bathtub and a pile of parts that he had to get rid of... And this intense sense of... dissatisfaction. This wasn’t nearly as fulfilling as he had hoped it would be. Well, at least he’d remembered to collect the fangs. A little gift for Amadeus. After all, he was more than certain there was blood magic that would require Kindred teeth. Well, whatever. He’d bag up the body, dump it in the sea with a little help from a no-questions-asked sort of friend and clean up the tub. Not necessarily in that order.
At least, when he arrived home, he knew that there would be a cute little ghoul awaiting him to lift his mood properly. And she’d never know about what he had done that evening unless he decided to tell her... Which he wouldn’t.