[open]

[toughbr8k.livejournal.com]

Who: Snowman (toughbr8k) and...anybody?
Where: All over the damn place.
When: RIGHT THE FUCK NOW.
Rating: PG...13 for...violence?

Summary: Okay, so here's the deal: there is no way in hell Snowman is allowing herself to be slowly poisoned, so she's going on the offensive. This is basically a place where you can volunteer to get your character randomly teleport-assaulted by a seven-foot-tall insect woman with a whip. How it goes after that would be up to personal communication, but I will say that Snowman's probably pretty goddamn difficult to beat (it's not out of the question, but I'm also not up for her getting killed just yet).
She's not actually invested in killing for killing's sake, but she'll do it if it's necessary, or possibly also if it seems like it'll be easy. But mostly she's after the candy. Feel free to PM or AIM me (mylemonlies) if you have a specific outcome in mind.

The Story:
The rulebook doesn't concern her much. She's used to rulebooks, used to games. She simply peruses it, memorizes the relevant information, then folds it up and leaves it carelessly on the seat of her wingback chair. So she's collared. So it's leaching poison into her bloodstream. So she needs candy to live.

All right. Time to go get some candy.

For some reason, she goes through the formality of stepping out of the door of her room, shutting it, and locking it. She straightens her shoulders, plants her feet for balance, smooths her tailcoat, and then disappears into thin air.

She's in search of her first victim. It's nothing personal. Just business.

Comments

[forevercapslock.livejournal.com]

Karkat is currently derping around in some far corner of the mansion's hallways, trying to decide how best he should take care of the problems this event has presented. Obviously he has to take care of his team--or at least make sure they've managed to take care of themselves, but the problem is how to do that without them all getting killed.

Normally he'd just get on the network and make some ranting post about how he would fucking kill any troll who died during this event, but he's actually trying to be a little discreet in the interest of not becoming a target for those residents who would have no problem coming after him for "being annoying".

[toughbr8k.livejournal.com]

Some residents are willing to come after him just for being him. And maybe it is a little bit personal.

Snowman appears behind him and smiles. Well, well, well. She speaks in a low voice, carefully modulated, just soft enough to force the listener to turn or lean in to really catch every word, but loud enough that it's not a whisper.

"You there. Jack's boy."

[forevercapslock.livejournal.com]

Karkat can't help jumping. He doesn't think he's particularly easy to sneak up on, but the whole teleporting thing kind of bypasses any amount of vigilance he might have been exercising.

He turns quickly, ready to snarl a response, but hesitates when he sees who it is. The pause makes his response come out sounding more sulky than indignant.

"I've got a name."

[toughbr8k.livejournal.com]

She inclines her head in a tiny not of acknowledgment, but she never says Karkat Vantas.

"Knight."

And with a flick of her wrist, she lashes her whip at his face.

"Of Blood."

[forevercapslock.livejournal.com]

Although he shouldn't be, he's honestly surprised by the attack and backpedals, though not in time to fully avoid her strike. Cursing, he puts one hand to his face, swallows the slight panic at the feeling of blood under his hand--"Oh, fuck you!"--and retrieves his sickle from his sylladex.

Then he rushes her. She may be twice his height, but he figures her weapon requires her to maintain some distance from her opponent, so the best way to injure her is to get in close.

And to go for her joints. He learned that from Jack.

Stupid carapace bluh bluh.

[toughbr8k.livejournal.com]

The solution is obvious.

No, it's not to draw her gun and shoot him in the gut.

She simply extends her free arm and plants the palm of her hand firmly in the middle of his forehead, blocking his forward progress.

[forevercapslock.livejournal.com]

Oh for the love of--

He just stands and flails stupidly for a few seconds. It doesn't immediately occur to him to just lop her hand off at the wrist, so he's stuck standing there, unable to get any closer to her.

[toughbr8k.livejournal.com]

She takes a moment to appreciate the awesome hilariousness of this, though she is far too hard-boiled to smile or laugh. She admires his flailing as if it is fine art, with the faintest squint to her eyes to indicate that she is pleased.

Then she raises the butt of her whip, with the intent of smashing it into his temple.

[forevercapslock.livejournal.com]

Seeing her raise her other hand snaps Karkat back into non-flailing action and he jerks back out of her reach.

Of course, this results in him falling on his ass, but at least he didn't get hit in the head.

[toughbr8k.livejournal.com]

Now the gun comes out. She flicks off the safety and points it at his throat. Her eyes are beginning to resemble those of a cat regarding a whole pitcher of cream.

[forevercapslock.livejournal.com]

Karkat freezes, staring first at the gun, then at the crazy bitch on the other end of it. After a moment during which he's certain he can hear blood dripping down his face, he scowls.

"So are you going to fucking shoot me?"

[toughbr8k.livejournal.com]

"Haven't decided. Try dropping your weapon."

[forevercapslock.livejournal.com]

Moving slowly, he puts his sickle down on the floor and pushes it out of reach. Disarming himself really doesn't bother him that much--it isn't the only sickle in his sylladex, after all.

[toughbr8k.livejournal.com]

She's never really gotten the hang of the sylladex thing. So needlessly complicated. Sensible people have inventories.

She keeps her gun trained on him as he advances, because nothing is more dangerous than a cornered animal.

[forevercapslock.livejournal.com]

He doesn't even bother to ignore the impulse to back away from her, but that only gets him as far as the wall behind him. With his back pressed against the wood, he starts to stand up slowly.

[toughbr8k.livejournal.com]

She follows him up with the muzzle, still moving forward. Her whip whispers along the floor behind her, leaving a small streak of blood from its tip.

[forevercapslock.livejournal.com]

He snarls at her. This waiting thing is really not one of his favorite games.

"Well?"

[toughbr8k.livejournal.com]

"Patience, Knight."

She's more than close enough to accurately shoot him; this is just overkill.

[forevercapslock.livejournal.com]

He really, really, really, really wishes that he had eye lasers. Then pewpewpew she'd be dead.

But since he doesn't, he waits, and tries not to let the suspense over whether or not he's going to get shot get to him.

[toughbr8k.livejournal.com]

She stops with the muzzle of the gun pressed to his throat and fondly regards him for a moment, smirking.

[forevercapslock.livejournal.com]

Karkat tilts his head back a bit, glaring at her. That smirk grates on his nerves, though, and it takes all of 0.382 seconds for him to decide, fuck it, if she's going to shoot him, she'll shoot him, but that doesn't mean he's going to make it easy for her.

With this resolve, he grabs her wrist and jerks it forward, sinking his pointy troll teeth into her arm. Carapace or no, not much stands up to troll teeth.

[toughbr8k.livejournal.com]

There's a moment where his teeth click harmlessly against chitin, but troll teeth are sharp, and Karkat's jaw is strong from all the yelling; after a moment, they're scraping bloodless furrows, and then they've penetrated and he'll taste her blood.

She even feels a little ridiculous for a moment, standing there with a troll latched onto her arm. It is painful and humiliating.

But that's all right. She's an adaptable woman. She returns to plan A: bring whip arm up, smash the handle into Karkat's head.

[forevercapslock.livejournal.com]

With a mouth full of Snowman arm, Karkat doesn't managed to evade the blow a second time. He goes limp, though not until after his jaw tightens even more around her arm, leaving him hanging from it for a moment before he crumples to the floor.

[toughbr8k.livejournal.com]

She allows herself a small hiss of pain, though she'd really like to shriek and rip his head right off his neck, because that hurts.

Instead, she bends and takes the candy from wherever it manifests, and walks away, leaving a trail of red droplets from her hand.

Let him wonder why she let him live.