Lucifer | The Morningstar (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
angelfire) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenace2016-02-25 02:56 pm
angelfire) wrote in maskormenace2016-02-25 02:56 pm
Entry tags:
- adam parrish | n/a,
- † billy kaplan | wiccan,
- † charles xavier | professor x,
- † dorian gray | n/a,
- † frederick chilton | chief of staff!!,
- † gregor vorbarra | greg vorthys,
- † hunter zolomon | zoom,
- † jeff winger | wingman,
- † jesse pinkman | diesel,
- † jim kirk | n/a,
- † kitty jones | n/a,
- † lucifer | n/a,
- † miles vorkosigan | admiral naismith,
- † nicolas demidov | seeking snow,
- † peggy carter | miss union jack,
- † peter pan | n/a,
- † riku | darkeater,
- † rincewind | n/a,
- † tobias matthews | n/a
video; the end of kitty jones
Warnings for graphic violence under the cut
[ Light hits the camera at an odd angle as it’s switched on, the low, shaded fluorescents providing little, but odd illumination. As the view is corrected, what is clearly one of the massage rooms at the Royal Mansions Resort comes into view, with all its spa resort accouterments lining the walls and countertops. Several scented candles add to the general reassuring aura of the room, which would make the whole scene seem like it were almost romantic if not for the fact that Kitty, bound to the massage table with electrical power cords, is absolutely not there by her own volition.
Kitty doesn’t seem at all relaxed--but then this isn’t your typical spa day. She’s bruised and bleeding, with what looks like edged burns on her hands. There’s sweat plastered in her hair, the best indication that she’s been here long enough for her pain to actually wear her down, and she’s clearly been crying, even though she’s swallowing it back now. As the camera is laid to rest, a figure steps into view, appearing first with his back to the camera before his face comes into shot. It’s Lucifer; Lucifer with his eyes catching red in the candlelight, as he comes to stand behind the table. Like this, the massage table’s similarity to a sacrificial altar is undeniable. Symbols are painted in what looks like blood around it, but they look black in the dull light. ]
The red light means we’re on air--which is just fine with me. Our Soviet friends should see what I’m going to do to you, Kitty. You’re a traitor. [ He gestures to the room, but he’s really gesturing to the facility and more besides. ] You’ve been playing our Russian hosts this whole time, making them think that you’re on their side just so you can undermine their work--just so you can steal from them. You shouldn’t have done that.
Tell the good people what you stole, Kitty. [ There’s a blade in his hand - one that matches the shape of the burns on Kitty’s wrists - and Lucifer brings the edge up to rest against her jaw. ] I don’t suggest you test me. It’s not worth losing any more blood over.
[ And, not exactly heroically, she flinches away from the blade. Her fear is quite unfeigned. Her voice is strained, high, shaky. ] Information. [ Then, with a little more strength, she tries to go on: ] Information about how they’ve been - hurting us, twisting our minds, eroding our free will --
[ Lucifer presses the blade in, slightly, to cut her off. She’ll have time to speak, but right now he’s in the middle of his spiel. ]
That’s enough, Daddy’s talking. [ Lucifer looks back up at the camera, decreasing the pressure somewhat. ] Kitty here seems to think that she can just get away with this little double-double cross. It’s underhanded. Playing dirty. Now usually that would be just my cup of tea, but - well - Russia and I have been getting along. So here’s how it’s going to be--since you all love Kitty so very much, since she’s your quintessential girl nextdoor, and you all want to have tea and crumpets with her and pretend that you just want to be friends, I’m going to give you all a moment to convince her that she should tell me where she’s hidden what she took.
It won’t be good for her if she refuses. Will it, Kitty?
[ Lucifer moves the blade down, lowering it to Kitty’s shoulder. With one hand, and the tip of his blade, he cuts through the fabric there, exposing the top of her arm. It’s clear his intent isn’t good, and for a moment his gaze meets with Kitty’s, before he presses the edge of the blade down into her flesh. One cut, but by no means the first he’s made.
Kitty reacts at once. A noise - a little mewl of pain - escapes her throat, though she clamps her jaw down on anything more than that. She screws her eyes shut, but tears escape nevertheless, squeezing out from under her eyelids. She turns her head to the side, away from the camera, to hide her crying.
But she speaks. ] Stop. I’ll tell you. Okay? Turn the bloody camera off, they don’t need to see it… [ And she turns her head back, meeting Lucifer’s eyes, her face blotchy and red with crying, her nose disgusting with snot. ] There’s a planter. Just off the main hall. I threw it in there as I was running away.
See? [ He purrs, content, victorious. ] That wasn’t so hard. Except why should I believe you? Because of a little bit of pain? I haven’t even threatened to kill your friends yet… [ Lucifer digs the blade in again, sawing the blade once, shaving the flesh away. He draws the blade away a moment later and flicks the blood off it, idly. And this draws more than just a little noise out of her; she gives a genuine cry of pain, struggling against her bonds as she tries to curl in on herself or fight back or something. ] Say again? [ Lucifer presses, amused. ]
Fuck you -- [ Kitty snarls viciously, fear and pain giving way to anger. Real anger. Her head comes back around, and she finds enough moisture in her mouth to spit at him - it misses, sure, but the sign of defiance is clear. ] You weak-willed fucking bastard. You’re supposed to be the angel of fucking whatever. You ought to be stronger than this. The fucking planter. Like I said. I dropped it in the fucking planter!
[ Lucifer flicks the blade in his hand, turning the sharp edge away from her, and reaches up to lay his hand roughly against her cheek. He bends inward, until his face almost touches hers, cheek to cheek, bent in toward her ear, and he speaks low, knowing that some of the people listening will be able to hear him: ] Your power’s still blocking me, so you’ll forgive me if I can’t tell whether or not you’re lying to me. I guess we’ll just have to find out, won’t we? [ He tips upward again, looking toward the camera. ] Someone should go look for what she’s lost, now, shouldn’t they? Turn it over to the Soviets, and I’ll let Kitty here go into their care. What do you think, shall we give them ten--twenty minutes?
[ But Kitty doesn’t respond to that. Instead, she looks past Lucifer, at the door. She’s leaning up just a little, her eyes gone wide; she’s heard something. And so then she looks into the camera; her eyes are still teary, but she speaks rapid-fire, a mile a minute, loudly, even over the end of Lucifer’s speech. ] Listen. All of you. Don’t trust Lucifer. Don’t trust Nicolas or Gregor, the pair of fucking dupes - they’re real Soviets, good Soviets. Do not trust them. Be good to them, be kind to them, and if you don’t I will destroy you when I come back, because they’re honourable, but they’re good Communists and so you can’t trust them. [ Because she is damn well going to stick up for her brave co-conspirators and minimize the damage to their cover story and keep the Soviets from coming for them. Hopefully...As she speaks, Lucifer narrows his eyes, as though to say “is this going to take long?” She presses on despite him. ] And Billy - you’re my best friend - Billy, I want you to remember all the good we’ve done. The good things we did. Things might have gone wrong, but what was important was in the tanks we got -
[ Mispronunciation? Hell no. The real data disk is in the tank of one of the toilets of the hotel, sealed up in a waterproof ziplock bag. She trusts that her friend will understand. Translate for Miles and Gregor. And that’s the message she needs to get out, so now she breaks into a rant: ]
And Communism is a gross bloody misappropriation of the ideals of Socialism! This entire system is shitty, and the people who participate in it are shitty, and don’t let them brainwash you, think for yourselves, they can’t take freedom from you, fuck Joseph Stalin!
[ There’s a louder thumping on the door now, as though someone is actually trying to get in, and Lucifer shoots it a glance, before focusing his attention back on Kitty. ]
Really Fuck Stalin? That’s what you’re going to finish with? These, which may very well be your last words?
How about this, then: if the Russians take me, they’ll get quite an earful. [ That’s said pointedly to Lucifer. Then she looks back to the camera and draws in a breath to use her last words well. ] Their system is shit. Shit. Those of you who’ve been brainwashed, wake up and see that. You owe nothing to the Russians; you owe nothing to the Americans; you only owe loyalty to yourselves and the poor people caught in the crossfire. That’s it. That’s--
[ If Kitty was winding up or not, it doesn’t matter. Lucifer moves lightning quick, as though the decision was made well in advance, swinging his arm up and slamming the blade home with wicked accuracy. It plunges straight into her heart. She lets out a little noise, a cry of pain and terror, before sinking back, the life going out of her. He leaves the blade there, stepping back and turning to take a washcloth from the counter beside him, almost casually wiping the blood from his fingers, before strolling back toward the camera. Someone is shoving hard at the door now, but muttered voices suggest that they have to go back to the drawing board over how to break in. Lucifer picks up the camera and takes a look into the lens. ]
“In God we trust.” I ask you, what has God ever done for America? For you? For poor, poor Kitty? Not much. [ Lucifer shrugs. ] Oh well. Any questions?
[ooc: Details of the mission to get Kitty's information is being discussed at the ooc post here, while Lucifer will be going into Russian custody. Apparently the Soviets don't think killing traitors is a proportionate response, go figure.
Please use this post for reactions as well as chatting on the network! Lucifer will be around to respond for a short while, before he goes to let the Russians in, and characters are welcome to organize their response in the hotel/resistance here. Please feel free to threadjack with each other and go wild, arrange to hunt Lucifer down or whatever else jumps to mind!]
[ Light hits the camera at an odd angle as it’s switched on, the low, shaded fluorescents providing little, but odd illumination. As the view is corrected, what is clearly one of the massage rooms at the Royal Mansions Resort comes into view, with all its spa resort accouterments lining the walls and countertops. Several scented candles add to the general reassuring aura of the room, which would make the whole scene seem like it were almost romantic if not for the fact that Kitty, bound to the massage table with electrical power cords, is absolutely not there by her own volition.
Kitty doesn’t seem at all relaxed--but then this isn’t your typical spa day. She’s bruised and bleeding, with what looks like edged burns on her hands. There’s sweat plastered in her hair, the best indication that she’s been here long enough for her pain to actually wear her down, and she’s clearly been crying, even though she’s swallowing it back now. As the camera is laid to rest, a figure steps into view, appearing first with his back to the camera before his face comes into shot. It’s Lucifer; Lucifer with his eyes catching red in the candlelight, as he comes to stand behind the table. Like this, the massage table’s similarity to a sacrificial altar is undeniable. Symbols are painted in what looks like blood around it, but they look black in the dull light. ]
The red light means we’re on air--which is just fine with me. Our Soviet friends should see what I’m going to do to you, Kitty. You’re a traitor. [ He gestures to the room, but he’s really gesturing to the facility and more besides. ] You’ve been playing our Russian hosts this whole time, making them think that you’re on their side just so you can undermine their work--just so you can steal from them. You shouldn’t have done that.
Tell the good people what you stole, Kitty. [ There’s a blade in his hand - one that matches the shape of the burns on Kitty’s wrists - and Lucifer brings the edge up to rest against her jaw. ] I don’t suggest you test me. It’s not worth losing any more blood over.
[ And, not exactly heroically, she flinches away from the blade. Her fear is quite unfeigned. Her voice is strained, high, shaky. ] Information. [ Then, with a little more strength, she tries to go on: ] Information about how they’ve been - hurting us, twisting our minds, eroding our free will --
[ Lucifer presses the blade in, slightly, to cut her off. She’ll have time to speak, but right now he’s in the middle of his spiel. ]
That’s enough, Daddy’s talking. [ Lucifer looks back up at the camera, decreasing the pressure somewhat. ] Kitty here seems to think that she can just get away with this little double-double cross. It’s underhanded. Playing dirty. Now usually that would be just my cup of tea, but - well - Russia and I have been getting along. So here’s how it’s going to be--since you all love Kitty so very much, since she’s your quintessential girl nextdoor, and you all want to have tea and crumpets with her and pretend that you just want to be friends, I’m going to give you all a moment to convince her that she should tell me where she’s hidden what she took.
It won’t be good for her if she refuses. Will it, Kitty?
[ Lucifer moves the blade down, lowering it to Kitty’s shoulder. With one hand, and the tip of his blade, he cuts through the fabric there, exposing the top of her arm. It’s clear his intent isn’t good, and for a moment his gaze meets with Kitty’s, before he presses the edge of the blade down into her flesh. One cut, but by no means the first he’s made.
Kitty reacts at once. A noise - a little mewl of pain - escapes her throat, though she clamps her jaw down on anything more than that. She screws her eyes shut, but tears escape nevertheless, squeezing out from under her eyelids. She turns her head to the side, away from the camera, to hide her crying.
But she speaks. ] Stop. I’ll tell you. Okay? Turn the bloody camera off, they don’t need to see it… [ And she turns her head back, meeting Lucifer’s eyes, her face blotchy and red with crying, her nose disgusting with snot. ] There’s a planter. Just off the main hall. I threw it in there as I was running away.
See? [ He purrs, content, victorious. ] That wasn’t so hard. Except why should I believe you? Because of a little bit of pain? I haven’t even threatened to kill your friends yet… [ Lucifer digs the blade in again, sawing the blade once, shaving the flesh away. He draws the blade away a moment later and flicks the blood off it, idly. And this draws more than just a little noise out of her; she gives a genuine cry of pain, struggling against her bonds as she tries to curl in on herself or fight back or something. ] Say again? [ Lucifer presses, amused. ]
Fuck you -- [ Kitty snarls viciously, fear and pain giving way to anger. Real anger. Her head comes back around, and she finds enough moisture in her mouth to spit at him - it misses, sure, but the sign of defiance is clear. ] You weak-willed fucking bastard. You’re supposed to be the angel of fucking whatever. You ought to be stronger than this. The fucking planter. Like I said. I dropped it in the fucking planter!
[ Lucifer flicks the blade in his hand, turning the sharp edge away from her, and reaches up to lay his hand roughly against her cheek. He bends inward, until his face almost touches hers, cheek to cheek, bent in toward her ear, and he speaks low, knowing that some of the people listening will be able to hear him: ] Your power’s still blocking me, so you’ll forgive me if I can’t tell whether or not you’re lying to me. I guess we’ll just have to find out, won’t we? [ He tips upward again, looking toward the camera. ] Someone should go look for what she’s lost, now, shouldn’t they? Turn it over to the Soviets, and I’ll let Kitty here go into their care. What do you think, shall we give them ten--twenty minutes?
[ But Kitty doesn’t respond to that. Instead, she looks past Lucifer, at the door. She’s leaning up just a little, her eyes gone wide; she’s heard something. And so then she looks into the camera; her eyes are still teary, but she speaks rapid-fire, a mile a minute, loudly, even over the end of Lucifer’s speech. ] Listen. All of you. Don’t trust Lucifer. Don’t trust Nicolas or Gregor, the pair of fucking dupes - they’re real Soviets, good Soviets. Do not trust them. Be good to them, be kind to them, and if you don’t I will destroy you when I come back, because they’re honourable, but they’re good Communists and so you can’t trust them. [ Because she is damn well going to stick up for her brave co-conspirators and minimize the damage to their cover story and keep the Soviets from coming for them. Hopefully...As she speaks, Lucifer narrows his eyes, as though to say “is this going to take long?” She presses on despite him. ] And Billy - you’re my best friend - Billy, I want you to remember all the good we’ve done. The good things we did. Things might have gone wrong, but what was important was in the tanks we got -
[ Mispronunciation? Hell no. The real data disk is in the tank of one of the toilets of the hotel, sealed up in a waterproof ziplock bag. She trusts that her friend will understand. Translate for Miles and Gregor. And that’s the message she needs to get out, so now she breaks into a rant: ]
And Communism is a gross bloody misappropriation of the ideals of Socialism! This entire system is shitty, and the people who participate in it are shitty, and don’t let them brainwash you, think for yourselves, they can’t take freedom from you, fuck Joseph Stalin!
[ There’s a louder thumping on the door now, as though someone is actually trying to get in, and Lucifer shoots it a glance, before focusing his attention back on Kitty. ]
Really Fuck Stalin? That’s what you’re going to finish with? These, which may very well be your last words?
How about this, then: if the Russians take me, they’ll get quite an earful. [ That’s said pointedly to Lucifer. Then she looks back to the camera and draws in a breath to use her last words well. ] Their system is shit. Shit. Those of you who’ve been brainwashed, wake up and see that. You owe nothing to the Russians; you owe nothing to the Americans; you only owe loyalty to yourselves and the poor people caught in the crossfire. That’s it. That’s--
[ If Kitty was winding up or not, it doesn’t matter. Lucifer moves lightning quick, as though the decision was made well in advance, swinging his arm up and slamming the blade home with wicked accuracy. It plunges straight into her heart. She lets out a little noise, a cry of pain and terror, before sinking back, the life going out of her. He leaves the blade there, stepping back and turning to take a washcloth from the counter beside him, almost casually wiping the blood from his fingers, before strolling back toward the camera. Someone is shoving hard at the door now, but muttered voices suggest that they have to go back to the drawing board over how to break in. Lucifer picks up the camera and takes a look into the lens. ]
“In God we trust.” I ask you, what has God ever done for America? For you? For poor, poor Kitty? Not much. [ Lucifer shrugs. ] Oh well. Any questions?
[ooc: Details of the mission to get Kitty's information is being discussed at the ooc post here, while Lucifer will be going into Russian custody. Apparently the Soviets don't think killing traitors is a proportionate response, go figure.
Please use this post for reactions as well as chatting on the network! Lucifer will be around to respond for a short while, before he goes to let the Russians in, and characters are welcome to organize their response in the hotel/resistance here. Please feel free to threadjack with each other and go wild, arrange to hunt Lucifer down or whatever else jumps to mind!]