ᴡᴇ ᴘɪʟʟᴀɢᴇ, ᴡᴇ (plunder) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-04-02 08:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, carol danvers (captain marvel), killian jones (captain hook) |
Who: Dark!Hook and Captain Marvel
What: JUSTICE! Carol achieves closure in the case that Killian worked for her
When: Late last night
Where: A CIA airport
Rating/Warnings: High for violence and fire
Status: Complete
Oh, the spooks. You’ve got to love them, right? Quite a history of doing not much good, mostly all bad, coverups for the coverups that were so intricate you couldn’t even tell where the original stains were, so well done to them. While Killian wouldn’t go so far as to say that the satanic cult the Illuminati was behind the CIA for mind control purposes (such was the case with some tin foil hat wearing conspiracy theorists, and that was just a little too aluminum for him), it was apparent that the organisation had a history of working with drug cartels and coming to shady deals - in exchange for information to be used to take out rival criminal syndicates, the spooks would allow their favourite cartels to continue to smuggle under the radar. Of course, if you knew too much, if you were were in too deep? You could just consider yourself worm food. Or were banished to live out the rest of your days in Nowhere, USA in hiding - new life, new job, new name, new white picket fence. Such was the case with Carol’s former beau. It was a shame, but his crooked partner in the NYPD had already paid his due. Now the others involved in this operation would too. In addition to the thrum of dark magic pulsing through him with every beat of his blackened heart, Killian was also gifted with a few new leads he took it upon himself to find. Carol’s case wasn’t completely shut yet, but it would be - after today. The airport was small, it looked closed and abandoned - but the runway was paved, and the CIA plane was supposed to take off from here; passengers were currently boarding the wee aircraft. Then, a puff of red smoke later, and he and his companion appeared there on the rooftop of one of the terminal buildings. “You’d think they’d have learned their lesson after that crash from a few years ago - the plane went down in the jungle, and there was four tonnes of cocaine on board,” he chuckled wryly. Mentally, he felt reborn - like this was where he truly was meant to be. Physically? Well, he felt fine too, despite the only really noticable difference to him at the moment - those shadowy rings under his eyes, messy hair, like he hadn’t slept in a few days. Which....he hadn’t. Dark Ones did not sleep - they couldn’t. “Anyway, I’ll stir up a bit of a storm so their takeoff’s prohibited. Then I really want to see you fly again.” New York was, in no way, somewhere Carol had wanted to be. Everything swirling around in her head was setting off so many different problems that she could’ve done with running away from just one of them for a while. Between the dreams and trauma and work and powers, the chaos she left in New York hadn’t really been much of a priority. At least not until Killian came to her with further information and then… Running away wasn’t really something she got terribly good at anyway. She couldn’t rightly place what was wrong with Killian, but then her focus was so scattered that she could easily just wave that off as new dream bullshit for him too -like his new little tricks that popped up. Explanations were easy to fabricate when you weren’t really wanting to question it too much. It was how she justified this. She couldn’t stop her dreams, couldn’t stop her powers developing so out of control that she could barely keep up, couldn’t stop the nightmares that came when the dreams didn’t or halt the deadlines for work, but she could do this. This was solvable, this was something she could handle. And she could test out these new, bigger, more consuming powers too. “Show me something fun.” But cutting loose, letting them loose. It was really helping with the stress right then too. They were kindred spirits, these two - right now, Killian was experiencing a similar hurricane in his mind. Carol’s powers were developing at an alarming rate, everything coming at her and difficult to handle, and Killian wasn’t exactly himself either. Because he did not have only just one, but two, three, four - as many Dark Ones as there had been in the past, that was the number he was currently hosting in his overcrowded head. And they all wanted the same thing - snuff out the light, bring us home. Home. To another realm that seemed so far away - where they rightfully belonged, to make it their own very dark world. Patience. One thing at a time. He couldn’t bring them all the way to New York via red smoke but they’d gotten here using unconventional means anyway - fitting, since there wouldn’t be a lot else that was conventional about this holiday. “Oh, we’re going to have loads of fun,” he grinned, the madness touching his eyes. Dream bullshit was a decent enough explanation, and he wasn’t lying - he’d mentioned to Carol that he felt fine, and that was the truth. He felt great. It hadn’t been windy before but it began to pick up - gusts swirling, debris flying, the air traffic control tower teetering precariously. Right before it suffered a direct hit, shaking violently, the people inside beginning to flee. The plane was shaking too, unable to rise into the air - it was circling instead, passengers on board watching a tornado form on the right side. “How’s that? Pretty?” he asked, watching as chaos unfolded. It was lovely. It really shouldn’t have been. But it was. The panic that unfolded as people fled, Carol returning Killian’s grin, a little less manic. As an Avenger she’d be helping those people, she’d be stopping the plane so that authorities could get there. But she wasn’t an Avenger here, she wasn’t even a superhero. “Exceptionally.” Panic and chaos, something she was used to being on the other side of, but this wasn’t a time to worry about heroics, it was a time for justice, revenge if you really wanted to look at it in that sort of way. But Carol wasn’t too bothered about the labels. Bad people got away with things, and she was done just sitting aside to let it happen. “Time to shake the apple tree.” For the most part, Carol hadn’t bothered too much about her forms, or the ability to alter the molecules of her clothing, but she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to end up burning through her clothes either. The Binary powers were almost unimaginable, the link to the cosmos that it provided. She was like a white hole of sheer power, everything in her just altering to a power she could just explode with. The alteration of her outfit started at her stomach, spreading downwards and upwards in a fire like glow, her skin taking the bright red colouring as it spread. The white of the Binary costume took shape in her boots, gloves and the bodysuit, complete with fire for hair and her eyes taking a pure white glow. She could already feel the air around her charge, the electromagnetic field that the earth naturally had furthering her own powers. Kicking off from the building they stood on, Carol took to the sky in a streak of red, her body flaring with heat and fire as she went. Now wasn’t that impressive? Killian watched, intrigued, as Carol transformed - became something else entirely, something intergalactic. It was glorious to see - like coming into her own, right? And since these gifts had been given to her, may as well use them. For justice, a rather swift and crushing blow. He just bet she could take out that plane if she wanted, and the people within - there was nothing on board but scum anyway (and if history repeated itself, a few metric tonnes of white powder), those who had wronged her in some fashion. Really, they were doing the whole world a favour right now - so much corruption, it was the anti-hero who did their part to snuff it out by going above and beyond. Or he could just want to see some chaos. That too. A puff of red smoke later, he relocated to the ground, closer to the fray. The few fleeing the air traffic control tower because of the storm were still in motion - and continued still, even when there was another puff of smoke and the humans became rats. Sniveling and squeaking about like how rats do. At least he didn’t turn them into cockroaches and step on them - how kind of him. “There you go, love, toss some apples at the rest,” he glanced up toward the sky. Heavy, fiery apples preferably - he was itching for a few explosions. It seemed like fire was her calling right then, like it was just an extension of herself. The power that flowed through her just burned up in the atmosphere, generating yet more power in it’s wake. Gravity stopped being an issue for Carol just a short while ago, flying became something so freeing and simple that she couldn’t imagine being tethered to the ground again. The plane stopped trying to leave the tarmac, the preparations halting as Killian’s weather manipulations destroyed the routes they could’ve taken. To Carol that wasn’t a large issue either way. She could have just torn through the jet without issue, her strength and new cosmic abilities would rend it to pieces in a matter of seconds. But it all just seemed far too simple, didn’t it? And these people didn’t deserve simple. She didn’t need to wait for energy to hit her, didn’t need to convert an input to an output right now, she was just a ball of sheer energy, to the point where it escaped through her skin in licks of fire. Aiming at the left wing of the plane, taking out the engine attached, Carol blasted the stream of light from one fist to obliterate it. Sparks flying as the wing detached in an explosion that rocked the jet, screams and yells already audible from within as the exit was lowered. As if running would save them from anything right now. The all deserved the inferno coming for them. Ooooh, good shot - he was ever so eager to see another blast. There was that grin again, it lit up Killian’s whole face - he may have even let out one of those delighted little laughs; if he had two hands he would have clapped with sheer joy. But instead he just observed with sharp focus, something hazy in those bright eyes. The people inside, delightful agents of our beloved CIA, were now clamboring for the exits - so much for remaining calm and clearing the plane in an orderly fashion in case of an emergency. He very much liked the show, however. It was fantastic. More cloud coverage rolled in, the foreboding eerie sounds of a storm - but that was all him, he liked the dramatics. Hopefully this would receive a generous amount of news attention, the whole flattening a CIA airport and destroying the plane that they were intent on accomplishing. “Like ants scurrying from a hill,” he uttered, shaking his head. People were all the same. May as well start burning this tarmac from the ground level - fireballs tossed this way and that, what fun! It felt right. Was that strange, how right it felt to just exude the power that rolled around in her, even if it was in the destruction of others? She wasn’t really putting too much thought into the matter, this was the whole reason to be here, and her power was calling to her to use it. It didn’t seem to matter how. Floating down to land, Carol stood at the front of the plane, probably unrecognisable with her bright red skin flaring with energy and heat. There were shouts from the disembarking agents, those distant noises of the ones Killian transformed, very distant really. The agents ahead, pulling their weapons were more in Carol’s current focus of attention. In some ways, Carol was decidedly curious about just how durable she was. Could she knock bullets away like they were nothing? Wouldn’t that just be intimidating? Firing helplessly and watching as it had no effect, knowing that everything you did was useless? Didn’t these maggots deserve that? But then, a blazing woman with fire blasts was probably intimidating enough. Four agents moved into a defensive crouch, each one aiming their guns amid the carnage that was unfolding. “What do you think,” Carol made a point in raising her voice, over the crackling of fire and the whirring of the dying engine and the wind, “Quick and brutal, or slow and painful?” She really was open to suggestions on just how to deal with these dirty little shits. Now, that was the question, wasn’t it? He gave it some thought, but in general, this was up to Carol. It was her case being closed for good, her vengeance accomplished in the name of her former lover - and perhaps, Killian mused, Merlin had been right about one thing. The darkness was easier to handle when it was disguised as vengeance - and he knew the latter quite well. He’d lived by it as a code for many, many years. “Think about how much they’ve taken from you,” he purred seductively - it was not a matter of lust, but a thirst for that power which called to them both. “How much you suffered, how everything was turned on its head and how you had to start all over again because these bastards were slippery, not wanting their sins to be exposed. They need to see what they’re up against now.” And they would feel it too. One of those agents, knocked in the face with his own gun with a wave of Killian’s hand, the telekinetic energy directed at the target. Then the pesky gnat grabbed at his throat, choking. Air cut off, windpipe being crushed - by seemingly nothing, and yet that grin on Hook’s face. That was all him. Killian had a point, didn’t he. What they’d taken from her couldn’t be paid back, she’d never have that again, the pain she’d been through was due to being returned, wasn’t it? And maybe it was vengeance, maybe it was justice, maybe she could brush it off as making sure no one else felt that way again. But the idea turned over in her head, pay them back. They deserved it more than she did. Her eyebrow quirked as the panic and fear settled onto the faces of each of them, watching Killian squeeze the life out of the worthless piece of filth. She’d never really enjoyed other people’s fear, but this? This was definitely something to savour. “You raise a very valid point. Why should they be treated with any mercy, when they’re a forest fire through other people’s lives?” And Carol knew all about fire now, didn’t she? And that was a painful, slow, agonising outlook, wasn’t it? The fire around her pulsed as she pushed forward the fire, energy shooting from her and surrounding the group in a wide circle, the fire a wall between them and safety. “I don’t think they deserve an ounce of compassion.” Carol was coming up short on that right then anyway. “You’re right, they don’t,” Killian quite agreed. It was why he was still choking the man who couldn’t fight back - and why he was gaining such an awful pleasure out of it. He’d forgotten how empowering it was to kill, to snuff the life out of another human being - and as a pirate, he’d done it for less than their reasons right now. Vengeance. Justice. The vigilante types, perhaps? If it helped Carol sleep at night, he would go with it - because he didn’t sleep at all. There was no need to, the darkness was all the energy he required to function. The others were trapped in that circle of fire like the rats he’d transfigured with a puff of smoke, and the man was Killian was choking was made an example of - invisible fingers squeezed him by the throat a bit too roughly, and all the air was gone. Now a pretty shade of blue, his body was lifted by that telekinetic force and then dropped like a sack of flour. Never to get up again. “Look at them, desperate for escape,” he scoffed. “Panicking. They know what they’ve done, they know what’s on that plane and how bad it is. Make them regret it.” Maybe then they’d have a shot of a decent go at it in the afterlife. Then again, maybe not. It wasn’t like Carol hadn’t considered it, taking revenge, it was just a complicated matter. Until the universe lit up her every nerve ending with power so great she could taste it. It wasn’t something that any one person was meant to have, the cosmic abilities that just burrowed into her one night, accessing every part of her abilities. It was too much for her, and even if her alternate self, the woman in the dreams, even if she could somehow handle that, Carol wasn’t equipped to take it all and not give into those secret little thoughts. Like what if one person could solve these problems? Could stop these maggots perverting the law, put an end to the organised crime, move up to the bigger issues of the terrorism facing the world. Was it such a terrible thing to use this power for? Was it murder if it was justified? Her mind was so corrupted and overloaded with the sheer magnitude of her abilities that she could see it as appropriate reason. That was her reasoning at least, when the power leapt again, soaking up the heat from the sun and the fires around them doubling back to boost Carol’s energy, and one wave of Carol’s hand sent a bolt of fire right into one of them, launching him up into the belly of the plane with such force that it tore through the side, sending yet more explosions overhead. If you asked Killian (and asking him when he was being suffocated by an evil curse likely wasn’t the best idea, but there was still a point to be made regardless), murder was sometimes necessary. There were some people who deserved it, they deserved a bullet to the brain or their entire being to be scorched like a toasty marshmallow. That was simply the way of the world - you had good and bad people, and no matter what you ultimately believed, you’d reap what you sowed. That was why the sight of part of the plane catching fire didn’t bother him in the slightest - it was about bloody time they paid for what they’d used these metal death tubes to do. To transport drugs for the cartels they had in their back pockets and ruin lives, mostly. The next one, he didn’t bother with the choking. A twist of his hand meant a snap of the neck, and the fellow’s head nearly was telekinetically popped off like a bottle cap. Another down. “How’s about a grand finale, love?” he asked Carol, peering at her from beneath his black cloak - Dark Ones had a tendency to dress like monks, but it was fitting for this adventure. Hook enjoyed the idea of shadowy lurking. “A final explosion to render this place nothing but ash.” There probably wasn’t a need to play around any more, the men were clearly shit scared, they should know that they weren’t making it out of this alive, between Killian’s antics and her own desires to just watch everything burn, there wasn’t a way to get out of this at all. “You might want to poof a little further away then.” Carol didn’t rightly know just how extensive these powers were, but she would definitely be pushing everything into this. It would take weeks, months to fix the damage, to repair the ground, to get the smell of scorching rubber from area, identifying the bodies would take longer than that. If there were bodies left and not just ash on the ground. Carol’s entire body danced with flame, the solar power she absorbed daily multiplying to the point where all she felt was heat, not that it bothered her at all. The Binary powers were near immeasurable, cosmic entities rarely came with limitations, it was only her body and mind that ever limited anything. But there wasn’t a need for an off switch right this minute and like a volcanic eruption the power continued to leap from Carol, spreading like wildfire and consuming anything it met. It burned brighter, burned harder and hotter and faster than any normal fire, reaching up higher than it had any right to without an accelerant. But that was what Carol’s will was right then. Luckily, he’d poofed out of the way in time. Close enough to have a good view of the mess, but far enough to not be caught up in it - when the red smoke cleared, Killian was taking it all in, reflections of the flames of what looked like Hell in those mad eyes of his. And he laughed. Because he’d never seen fire quite like it before - it was like a whole other force of nature, cosmic and beautiful and brilliant. All-consuming. Absolutely everything burned. And nothing remained. When he blinked to clear the spots dancing along his line of vision, and when all he could smell was burnt rubber, plastic, scorched metal, and sizzling human flesh (difficult to identify bodies when all parts were singed away - maybe dental records, but doubtful), the red smoke brought him back to Carol’s side. “I’d say mission accomplished,” and he sounded so pleased, didn’t he. “How do you feel, now that you got to stretch your wings a little?” Why have all those powers and not get to use them? It’d be a right shame. The heat was still there, although Carol was aware of it enough to pull the fires back to just manageable natural fires. Her control left it and the hunks of rubble and debris just smoldered away until there would be nothing left for the fire to eat through. And looking at it all, the destruction and chaos, all it did was make Carol wish it lasted longer. She’d have expected some guilt, a little self-recrimination, some shame. But instead, all she felt was free and light, like she’d finally closed a book, not just ended a chapter, but that was it. Done. Like she’d finally move on. “Better.” Strangely she did, she was better for having snuffed out several lives with no restraint. Cosmic powers or not, it was like she knew she was heading this way. “I’m definitely going to rest easier now.” She had answers and revenge. What more could a girl want? “And I got to test these powers out without actually minding the damage caused.” Really, what did a CIA terminal in an airport matter if it was for the cartels? It didn’t, was the answer. None of those fuckwits mattered, and Killian was beyond caring. This felt so right - and he knew that the other Dark Ones, the shadowy apparitions seen by him in his mind’s eyes, were also pleased. “Well, good,” he grinned broadly, the expression even managing to reach dead eyes a little. “After all this time asking questions, I’m glad I got to be the one to help you find answers and that bit of justice.” However, they had to go. There was the approach of sirens and helicopters overhead - both media and law enforcement alike; such a fiery inferno wouldn’t go unnoticed, after all. Best they make themselves scarce. It'd be ruled as a plane accident, something gone wrong due to storms and mechanical malfunctions. Killian couldn’t wait to see what story the news outlets would spin. “We ought to get out of here, my dear,” he noted. “Shall we?” Leaving a mess in their wake - ah, the sweet stench of victory - and all it would take would be a puff of that red smoke to take them away. Carol had no doubt that it would somehow be suppressed, the real story, or whatever the press thought the real story was. If the agents there were ever identified it would never be in such a manner that they were crooked, or even that it had anything to do with drugs and dirty agents. No, that wouldn’t be a story that would reach any press around these parts. And really, Carol didn’t care. What did it matter now? They were dust -quite possibly literally in that regard. But they were definitely better getting out of there, before there was attention they didn’t want. “Lead the way.” They got there in a puff of smoke, might as well go for the dramatic effect of leaving in a puff of smoke. |