♻ 004 | video/spam

[tucky]

[video]

[After the first night of intense, violent nightmares, Tiffany appears on the network looking alert and wild-eyed. She hasn't gotten much rest, but she's running on adrenalin, so it's not showing just yet.]

Something ain't right here.

I know-- I know y'all like to talk about death a lot. All the inmates are dead, and we died before we came here, and it's because we are vile sinners that we were brought to the Barge instead of ascending to heaven.

[Absolutely no one she's talked to has used the term "vile sinners"; she's adding that bit in on her own.]

And I didn't believe it then, but now-- I understand now; I do. I do. I'm dead and she killed me. She beat me and killed me; knocked out my teeth and probably snapped my neck. I get it, okay? Library girl, pool guy, and Mason were right! And I was wrong. I understand and accept it. I'm ready. So you can stop; I don't need to see anymore. Don't leave me to rot in purgatory. Please--

[Her voice raises suddenly, to a near-shout.]

-- please, please let me in!

[She takes a long, shaky breath, and when she speaks again her voice is quieter.]

Please.

[spam, all week]

[There is definitely something up with Tiffany.

On the first day, it starts small(ish), with her post to the network. She comes out of her room less often than usual, and doesn't show up for meals (not even lunch with Merlin). By day two, she won't be answering calls or texts with anything but apocalyptic Bible verses. By day three, Bibles will start disappearing from the chapel, and shaky, jagged crosses will appear on her cabin door, carved into the wood. Days four and five are going to get ugly, but it'll be mostly internal, because that's when she'll shut down completely: she won't leave her room or look at her phone, she won't eat, she won't even get out of bed. Every sleeping moment will be plagued by gory, horrific nightmares, and every waking moment will be fraught with confusion, grief, and feelings of betrayal. She'll be traumatized, sleep-deprived, and convinced that she's lost the favor of God...

... But she'll be too bone-tired to fight back anymore.]

[OOC: Permissions post for this character!]

Comments

1/28 spam for Vergil; sorry, I changed my mind about where to put this!

[tucky]

[The nightmares aren't getting better. In fact, they're getting worse. So Tiffany comes up with a plan, and she's sure it's going to work.

It's stupid that she hadn't realized what she needed to do earlier, really. She's a little ashamed of herself. Yes, she's clearly fallen out of God's favor by taking so long to believe that she's dead-- the endless dreams of death are proof enough of that-- but He'd already asked her once to kill an evil person in His name. He might not be asking it of her this time (she'd tried that same trick of looking for messages by opening to random Bible pages, but had come up with nothing), but that doesn't mean He won't be pleased when she does it all on her own.

And the perfect target has already made himself known. By themselves, the glowing red eyes might not mean anything-- there are aliens on this ship, after all. But the stuff he had said... it gives her the shivers just to think about it. He'd talked as if he had personal experience with hell, he'd tried to encourage her doubt, and he'd called himself damned. There is no question that that man is of the devil, if not the devil himself.

Weapons are hard to come by here-- even harder than in Litchfield-- and she has to get creative. She feels a pang of guilt and regret when she breaks the headboard of her big, beautiful hotel bed, splintering off a small chunk of wood. It's the nicest bed she's ever slept in, and it had been a gift from Anya and the Admiral; she feels bad about damaging it. But it's for the greater good.

She hopes they'll understand.

She assumes finding the devil-man again will be hard, but it isn't: she actually comes across him rather quickly, just one floor down from her cabin (and that, she assumes, must be a sign that God approves of and is encouraging what she's doing). As she walks toward him, she watches him, but she tries to be subtle about it-- she ducks her head down to avoid eye contact, and keeps her eyes on his feet so she'll know if he turns or starts advancing in her direction.

The wood-- broken jaggedly and then sharpened against the metal mattress frame-- is in her hand, hidden in the pocket of her sweatshirt. When she gets close enough to strike, she will.]

Its all good.

[walkthedarkpath]

[ Vergil was sleeping less, and for a man whose moods tended to lean on the darker moodier side was on full tilt bitch mode of late. Enough so that he had asked his secret lover not to come by and see him until this had all passed. He didn't want to snap off at her. He wasnt as bad as he played up sometimes, othertimes he was worse.

Today all he wanted was asleep. He was walking the longway back to his room. He usually came down the flight of steps closest to his room not today, walking in his fantastic blue coat and riding boots. Which tapped the ground as he passed her, he wasn't paying her anymind. His goal was his bed. So his guard was down.]

[tucky]

[As she starts getting close, her hand tightens around the wood.]

'Scuse me.

[She brushes past him, as if they were normal people passing each other in the halls-- not an agent of god and a devil. But the moment they've passed each other and their backs are facing, she spins around and lunges, aiming to drive the pointy end of the wood into his side. It's not a particularly strong weapon, nor is it nearly sharp enough to kill all on its own-- but it's something. At the very least, it'll hurt, if she succeeds in stabbing him with it.]

[walkthedarkpath]

He had made a noise of acknowledgement but nothing else. Shockingly he can be well mannered. but before he can react his favorite coat now has a hole in it as dose his skin. His eyes went wide as he spun on instinct he slammed an elbow back in the direction he was stabbed, so if she was in range she might get hit pretty hard. his fangs are already out, his healing trying to kick in but the wood still in his side made that hard. He was turning intent to kill whatever dared attack.]

[tucky]

[She is indeed hit, and she hits the ground hard-- though she holds tight to her weapon, so she still has that. She jumps up almost immediately, going for another stab in the same place.]

Lord, I do this in Your name! Hear me now and lift your curse on me!

[walkthedarkpath]

[ He stepped back, as if a bullfighter in the ring. He's graceful for a devil its part of who he was. He barely dodges this time, more fabric rips but his skin is safe.]

You assinine creature!

[ Shes so little that he doesn't really wanna hit her again, but she did draw first blood.]

[tucky]

[She goes for two more stabs in quick succession, simultaneously aiming a kick at his legs in an effort to throw him off-balance.]

[walkthedarkpath]

[ As soon as the hits took, and they did, she was rewarded more of his blood. her kick was met with resound resistance. He didn't budge. Instead he stood there bleeding, and in his infinite wisdom... started to speak the lord's prayer in Latin. Just because he is a dick and figures she doesn't know Latin. Hes mocking her through the odd pain.]

PATER noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum. Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra. Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie, et dimitte nobis debita nostra sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris. Et ne nos inducas in tentationem, sed libera nos a malo. Amen.

[absentconstellation]

[ The air is shattered by the roaring of a massive lion, larger than life.

The only cat in the area is Pounce, his hair on end, teeth bared, back arched. The sound definitely came from him. ]

[tucky]

[She absolutely does not know Latin, but she vaguely recognizes the words as a religious thing, and it just makes her angrier.]

Oh no, don't you dare speak the words of God with your vile tongue. You hear me?!

[This time she aims for his chest, right over his heart...

... But is distracted by Pounce, because holy shit that was loud. She steps back for a second, and looks around wildly, anticipating an attack coming from somewhere else. Maybe This demon has summoned more of his demon friends?]

[walkthedarkpath]

Words only have power if you give them power. Your god has no power over me.

[ he hissed as Pounce roured, Vergil pulled back but stopped when he saw the look on her face and how she stepped back. He just kinda held his fist in the air, blood still dripped off his shirt but the wounds closed thanks to his healing.

Pounce got the most wtf look from Devil boy.]

[absentconstellation]

That is quite enough of that.

[ He glares at each of them in turn. ]

Perhaps you would prefer to continue this conversation from a cell.

[tucky]

What?

... No, no; we ain't having a conversation.

[I think that was abundantly clear, Tiffany.

Maybe, she thinks, she should have waited until he'd gone somewhere more private; somewhere less likely for a warden to find them. But the wardens here are so different from the guards at Litchfield-- maybe just explaining what's going on will work! Maybe once she tells the talking cat that she has very good reasons for trying to kill this man, she'll be allowed to continue her work.]

I need to smite him. He's the devil, and I need to kill him for God.

[walkthedarkpath]

[ Oh, excuse Vergil while he laughs at her. A hand going over his stomach as he laughs fully.] I will cooperate, so long as my warden is informed that I did not protest.

[ he spoke, looking smugly at her. ] Smiting me, how very droll.

[absentconstellation]

You will do no such thing. The both of you are quite dead already.

[ He eyes Vergil, and decides that the man is reasonable enough. It's Tiffany who gets his attention, and he pads up to her so that it will be easier for him to strike her should she fight back. ]

[tucky]

[She barely hears Pounce's words-- or notices that he's approached her-- because she's baring her teeth at Vergil, hand still on her makeshift weapon.]

You shut your mouth; you don't get to talk!

[And then she lunges for him again.]

[walkthedarkpath]

[ he stands still, glaring at her. His tempers rising but he stays still and speaks very calm as she comes at him.]

I have played nice thus far. You touch me once more and I will snap your bloody neck.

[absentconstellation]

[ Pounce, on the other hand, leaps into action. When he paws at Tiffany's leg is has the force of a much larger cat behind it. ]

Enough.

[tucky]

[She breathes in sharply, looking down at Pounce.

Then she lowers the hand with the wooden piece.]

[walkthedarkpath]

[ he finally stop glaring to look over the damage to his coat. He's pissed but keeping it together trying to figure out how he will smooth this one over. Hes just a few days off from that month deadline too. Keeping his mouth shut was the smartest thing he could do right now.]

[absentconstellation]

[ The cat reaches up on his hind legs to try and bat the shiv out of her hand. He'll use teeth if necessary. ]

Do not think that because I exist in this size and shape that I am limited by it. Now will you follow me to Zero, or must I drag you from the scruffs of your necks?

[ Spoilers: humans don't have neck scruff, making the process significantly more painful. ]

[tucky]

[She drops it.]

Zero? I'm going to the lock-up?

[oh noooooo]

[walkthedarkpath]

[ Vergil turns on his heels and moves to head that way. fighting it will make him less likely to get his sword back.]

We are prisoners, what do you think happens when we brawl? We go to solitary, or zero, foolish girl.

[ He acts like he doesnt have all day, but mostly he just wants it over with.]

[absentconstellation]

Perhaps you will be civil when there are bars between you.

[ He intends to put them in opposite cells, facing each other. They can get a kick out of him making inanimate objects do his bidding. ]

[tucky]

[Tiffany gives Vergil a scathing look and almost retorts... but then she doesn't.]

Please. I ain't dangerous.

[Not true.]

It was a special case.

[... Kind of true.]

Don't lock me up.