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tampered2008-12-01 04:30 am
deathbutler.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2008-12-01 04:30 am
☠ Log; Complete
When; November 24th, night
Rating; PG-13 for morbid themes?
Characters; Grell Sutcliff [![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
deathbutler] & Road Camelot [dreamsofnoah]
Summary; Ever the doting surrogate parent, Grell escorts Road to her "painting" session, using the blood of her captured toy to bleed a message she's sure the Exorcists won't miss.
Log;
His steps, not too eager, though he was, were brisk and sharp, heels marking his path on the cobblestones as Grell Sutcliff made his way to the 12th building. Of course, he contended, he could be silent, the shadow gods of death were supposed to be. But that style, it just didn’t suit him at all, not at all. So the step was clear and staccato, his crimson hair and bright clothing a noticeable flash of color in the night, and his presence preceded with the sound of his whistling, dun~ dun~ dundun~
A funeral march, cheery on his lips.
He reached the building in due time, where she was waiting for him, his Little Mistress Camelot. Truly, as a father, as a mother, he was besotted with her. The adorable child, so sadistic, so violent, and he loved every inch of that. It dragged maternal instincts closer to his sick breast, (and thoughts of producing a child such as that himself, one day, in a sick head). Ah, if he could only have a child like that some day-
“Little Mistress~” With a little smile, he swept in to a deep bow, flourishing wrist to offer his arm.
☠☠☠
"Hello~ Grell." Her smile is bright as she takes the offered arm, small fingers curling daintily around it. In her other hand is a covered pail, an old fashioned child's lunch pail, but it didn't contain any food. It held Road's painting supplies, so to speak.
She'd taken enough from Lenalee to weaken, but not enough to kill, because that would spoil the fun and after all the planning that would never do.
She tugged Grell forward, a giggle on her lips. She was in a wonderful mood, better than she'd been for ages. Partly because she was glad he'd made time to spend with her – while Road didn't really care for anyone besides family, she did appreciate people who gave her things, who let her have fun. Never let it be said she wasn't materialistic. Mostly, though, it was because finally everything was coming together, and she was going to hurt the Exorcists in ways they'd never even imagined.
But she had to draw them out first.
"We're going to the Firehouse~." The way she said it sounded like a song, and it was one, one that would spell her enemies' misery.
☠☠☠
Oh, but she was such a delightful thing. Just like she, though Grell was inclined to dramatic fits of fancy, to attractions and to fawning, he was never truly in love. He never truly valued another person over his own miserable life.
But that did not mean he was not a loving thing, even if the attention and the attractions were fickle and shallow. He cared, of course, but he cared more for blood and screams and the violence of it. Which was why he found her so appeasing, too adorable. All of that which he desired in a child of his own, all wrapped up with the same demeanor towards violence?
(Surely, if he and Sebastian had a child, she would be just like this.)
“To leave your painting, hmm?~” He played the attentive gentleman, following the pace she set, his tone matching the playful sing-song, peering over the glaring rim of his crimson eyeglasses, wicked excitement within them, extending to offer his hand to carry her pail if she wished to not hold it.
☠☠☠
"To leave my painting~" She agreed, skipping a little – mostly to see whether he'd follow her pace even then.
When he offered to carry the pail for her, she let him. It was rare enough to find someone so completely accommodating that she'd take as much advantage of it as she could.
She turned her head as they walked, looking up at him. "We should get there as quickly as we can. The paint might dry before we get a chance to use it." And that would be such a pity, such a waste. She'd have to find someone else's blood to use, then, and that wouldn't be the same.
Road could easily summon her door of course, and have them there immediately, but she was rather curious as to whether Grell would offer a solution of his own.
Playing with other's toys is so much more fun than simply playing with her own, after all.
☠☠☠
He took the pail, pinky out as he curled gloved fingers around it, even matched her steps, his longer stride didn’t require skipping quite yet, but a kick to the heel of his stride, a bounce to it that matched her enthusiasm for this disgusting act.
“Need to move a bit quicker, hmm?~” A purse of his lips, and a wickedly playful little gaze. “Well, then, little mistress, if you’ll excuse me?~” He bent down, kissed her hand chaste and lifted her smooth and easy- he was strong- feminine, yes, but strong, and her light weight on his shoulder, perched like a little princess, was nothing.
“Death gods have a bit to them.” He purred, taking a step that almost blurred the landscape, or seemed to. As Sebastian had told Ciel, one of the integral reasons Grell had been able to try and alibi his Mistress of the Jack the Ripper murders had been his ability to slink from the Society party to the west end within mere moments. And death gods, well. They had to be able to do their job in shadows, (and even if he hated working in shadows, this was not so bad), after all, and the few quick steps somehow ended them at the firehouse, no worse for wear and only passing.
“I hope the travel method was suitable~?” No used to ask after, yet he did.
☠☠☠
Road looked surprised for a moment as he kissed her hand and even more so as he picked her up, but any protests died on her lips once he placed her on his shoulder, and she squealed in delight at being so high up, remembering how she traveled that way with the Earl.
She was just as ecstatic at the way their surroundings whirled by as he walked, and clapped her hands when they arrived. It was even more fun than traveling with the Ark! "That was even really interesting, Grell! Lets do it again later on."
"Ooh, now which wall shall we choose? We can't use the Firehouse, there are too many wards." She tapped her fingers against his shoulder in contemplation. "One of the buildings around it…which one do you think they'll see first?"
☠☠☠
He smirked, a sly little giggle slipping out as he surveyed the environment, the hand that held her pail coming to his lips, knuckles pressed a moment, tsking in the back of his throat. He let her stay perched on his shoulder, turning all about for a panoramic view of the possibilities, but it was obvious he moved in a way that was deliberate, so she’d have no trouble with balancing.
“Hmm… the most dramatic would be best- Directly outside their front door, to confront them- That would be best, don’t you think?~”
☠☠☠
It was clear that she was used to traveling just that way, and with his help she was wonderfully comfortable sitting right there on his shoulder, hands clasped in her lap as she contemplated the wall he'd mentioned.
Road only wished she had people to carry her around like this more often.
"Definitely best! We can't have them missing the message, that wouldn't do at all."
And by now she was eager to get started, to put things into motion.
☠☠☠
“No, that absolutely wouldn’t~” He crooned, approaching said wall with a careful stride, beginning to hum a song under his breath- something he remembered from her. The millennium earl is searching?~ Catchy, that.
“So, shall we pain the canvas, little mistress?” Grell doted, tucking a lock of crimson hair back over the rims of his glasses, sharp teeth exposed when she spoke so excitedly.
“Your paints~” And he handed up the pail, looking up to her with a generous smile, arm cradled at his side. “Would the mistress perch or sit?”
☠☠☠
"He is searching for a precious heart~" Road continued the song, giggling. "Yes, let's paint! I'll stay here, the higher up it is, the faster they'll see it."
With that, she uncovered the pail and dipped her hand into the viscous, already-clotting red liquid. It dripped off her fingers, running down the wall as she started writing. A nice, short message, one that gave away nothing but said everything.
Missing someone, Exorcists?
A taunt and a threat in one simple phrase.
She licked blood off the tip of a finger before dipping it one final time, and added a cross underneath the message, a mockery of the cross the Exorcists wore so proudly, a cross reminiscent of the stigmata that were the mark of a Noah.
☠☠☠
Grell kept wearing that sick smile as he watched her, a being so like him. That same vicious smile, the same fascination with the crimson color… as she painted the message on, he took a finger and slid it through the dripping paint, bringing it back to his mouth, sniffing, discerning, before a languid lick, cleaning it from the expensive leather of his glove.
“Aaaah, what a sweet thing this must have come from,” Murmured, as he stepped back to allow her to admire the work.
☠☠☠
Road surveyed her work, pleased with the end effect. She thought it got the message across nicely. Still licking the blood off her fingers, she said with a smile "It'll do~."
And she was even more excited now than before, because finally the real game was beginning. "She is sweet, and oh so good. Her Innocence is so strong~. I wonder if it'll try to save her life again this time."
She grinned down at Grell. "I think we're done for now."
☠☠☠
Grell grinned wickedly, eyes locked a lingering moment on the work. Crimson, beautiful, luscious, crimson. There was always, there had always been something about it, about it and him. He garbed himself in crimson, wore it like a badge, and entrapped any and all in the snares of it. Wicked, decadent, and rotting, that vile nature. Such a pretty face, that he turned to Road, looking up with an echoed smile.
“Shall I escort you back, then, Little Mistress?~ Or would you like to take a step in the shadows and wait for them to find this?” It was always a hard choice, in his mind. Watching their horrified faces himself, or leaving it to his imagination.
☠☠☠
So hard to choose, whether to go back home where Tyki and the dolly waited, or to stay here and see the despair on the Exorcists' faces as they were confronted with something they couldn't ignore. If they'd been holding back before because they weren't directly involved, well now. She'd definitely given them the incentive they needed to leave the safety of the Firehouse and finally confront them.
"Back, I think. If I leave Tyki alone for too long, there won't be anything left of the dolly for me to play with. But~" looking at the blood still fresh on the wall, a smile still playing on her lips. "You're free to stay and watch them, if you like. You can tell me about it, afterwards, and I'll tell you everything about how we killed them over and over again."
☠☠☠
His lips curled, just a bit more, and Grell started to laugh, a high, feminine giggle, first, but as it grew, as his head threw back and he let loose, it grew deeper, more manic.
“I’ll partake.” Grell finally hissed, jagged teeth gnashing together gleefully. “Shall I escort you, Little Mistress?”
☠☠☠
She joined in the laughter, but it was not as free as Grell's, not just yet. Road was saving that for when the dust of the Exorcists' Innocence would be dancing around her, for when their lifeless bodies would lie at her feet, their blood on her hands.
"Yes please, Grell~." Fingers pressed against her lips coquettishly, as though he was merely escorting her back to a party or a dance, not a slaughter.
Rating; PG-13 for morbid themes?
Characters; Grell Sutcliff [
deathbutler] & Road Camelot [dreamsofnoah]Summary; Ever the doting surrogate parent, Grell escorts Road to her "painting" session, using the blood of her captured toy to bleed a message she's sure the Exorcists won't miss.
Log;
His steps, not too eager, though he was, were brisk and sharp, heels marking his path on the cobblestones as Grell Sutcliff made his way to the 12th building. Of course, he contended, he could be silent, the shadow gods of death were supposed to be. But that style, it just didn’t suit him at all, not at all. So the step was clear and staccato, his crimson hair and bright clothing a noticeable flash of color in the night, and his presence preceded with the sound of his whistling, dun~ dun~ dundun~
A funeral march, cheery on his lips.
He reached the building in due time, where she was waiting for him, his Little Mistress Camelot. Truly, as a father, as a mother, he was besotted with her. The adorable child, so sadistic, so violent, and he loved every inch of that. It dragged maternal instincts closer to his sick breast, (and thoughts of producing a child such as that himself, one day, in a sick head). Ah, if he could only have a child like that some day-
“Little Mistress~” With a little smile, he swept in to a deep bow, flourishing wrist to offer his arm.
☠☠☠
"Hello~ Grell." Her smile is bright as she takes the offered arm, small fingers curling daintily around it. In her other hand is a covered pail, an old fashioned child's lunch pail, but it didn't contain any food. It held Road's painting supplies, so to speak.
She'd taken enough from Lenalee to weaken, but not enough to kill, because that would spoil the fun and after all the planning that would never do.
She tugged Grell forward, a giggle on her lips. She was in a wonderful mood, better than she'd been for ages. Partly because she was glad he'd made time to spend with her – while Road didn't really care for anyone besides family, she did appreciate people who gave her things, who let her have fun. Never let it be said she wasn't materialistic. Mostly, though, it was because finally everything was coming together, and she was going to hurt the Exorcists in ways they'd never even imagined.
But she had to draw them out first.
"We're going to the Firehouse~." The way she said it sounded like a song, and it was one, one that would spell her enemies' misery.
☠☠☠
Oh, but she was such a delightful thing. Just like she, though Grell was inclined to dramatic fits of fancy, to attractions and to fawning, he was never truly in love. He never truly valued another person over his own miserable life.
But that did not mean he was not a loving thing, even if the attention and the attractions were fickle and shallow. He cared, of course, but he cared more for blood and screams and the violence of it. Which was why he found her so appeasing, too adorable. All of that which he desired in a child of his own, all wrapped up with the same demeanor towards violence?
(Surely, if he and Sebastian had a child, she would be just like this.)
“To leave your painting, hmm?~” He played the attentive gentleman, following the pace she set, his tone matching the playful sing-song, peering over the glaring rim of his crimson eyeglasses, wicked excitement within them, extending to offer his hand to carry her pail if she wished to not hold it.
☠☠☠
"To leave my painting~" She agreed, skipping a little – mostly to see whether he'd follow her pace even then.
When he offered to carry the pail for her, she let him. It was rare enough to find someone so completely accommodating that she'd take as much advantage of it as she could.
She turned her head as they walked, looking up at him. "We should get there as quickly as we can. The paint might dry before we get a chance to use it." And that would be such a pity, such a waste. She'd have to find someone else's blood to use, then, and that wouldn't be the same.
Road could easily summon her door of course, and have them there immediately, but she was rather curious as to whether Grell would offer a solution of his own.
Playing with other's toys is so much more fun than simply playing with her own, after all.
☠☠☠
He took the pail, pinky out as he curled gloved fingers around it, even matched her steps, his longer stride didn’t require skipping quite yet, but a kick to the heel of his stride, a bounce to it that matched her enthusiasm for this disgusting act.
“Need to move a bit quicker, hmm?~” A purse of his lips, and a wickedly playful little gaze. “Well, then, little mistress, if you’ll excuse me?~” He bent down, kissed her hand chaste and lifted her smooth and easy- he was strong- feminine, yes, but strong, and her light weight on his shoulder, perched like a little princess, was nothing.
“Death gods have a bit to them.” He purred, taking a step that almost blurred the landscape, or seemed to. As Sebastian had told Ciel, one of the integral reasons Grell had been able to try and alibi his Mistress of the Jack the Ripper murders had been his ability to slink from the Society party to the west end within mere moments. And death gods, well. They had to be able to do their job in shadows, (and even if he hated working in shadows, this was not so bad), after all, and the few quick steps somehow ended them at the firehouse, no worse for wear and only passing.
“I hope the travel method was suitable~?” No used to ask after, yet he did.
☠☠☠
Road looked surprised for a moment as he kissed her hand and even more so as he picked her up, but any protests died on her lips once he placed her on his shoulder, and she squealed in delight at being so high up, remembering how she traveled that way with the Earl.
She was just as ecstatic at the way their surroundings whirled by as he walked, and clapped her hands when they arrived. It was even more fun than traveling with the Ark! "That was even really interesting, Grell! Lets do it again later on."
"Ooh, now which wall shall we choose? We can't use the Firehouse, there are too many wards." She tapped her fingers against his shoulder in contemplation. "One of the buildings around it…which one do you think they'll see first?"
☠☠☠
He smirked, a sly little giggle slipping out as he surveyed the environment, the hand that held her pail coming to his lips, knuckles pressed a moment, tsking in the back of his throat. He let her stay perched on his shoulder, turning all about for a panoramic view of the possibilities, but it was obvious he moved in a way that was deliberate, so she’d have no trouble with balancing.
“Hmm… the most dramatic would be best- Directly outside their front door, to confront them- That would be best, don’t you think?~”
☠☠☠
It was clear that she was used to traveling just that way, and with his help she was wonderfully comfortable sitting right there on his shoulder, hands clasped in her lap as she contemplated the wall he'd mentioned.
Road only wished she had people to carry her around like this more often.
"Definitely best! We can't have them missing the message, that wouldn't do at all."
And by now she was eager to get started, to put things into motion.
☠☠☠
“No, that absolutely wouldn’t~” He crooned, approaching said wall with a careful stride, beginning to hum a song under his breath- something he remembered from her. The millennium earl is searching?~ Catchy, that.
“So, shall we pain the canvas, little mistress?” Grell doted, tucking a lock of crimson hair back over the rims of his glasses, sharp teeth exposed when she spoke so excitedly.
“Your paints~” And he handed up the pail, looking up to her with a generous smile, arm cradled at his side. “Would the mistress perch or sit?”
☠☠☠
"He is searching for a precious heart~" Road continued the song, giggling. "Yes, let's paint! I'll stay here, the higher up it is, the faster they'll see it."
With that, she uncovered the pail and dipped her hand into the viscous, already-clotting red liquid. It dripped off her fingers, running down the wall as she started writing. A nice, short message, one that gave away nothing but said everything.
Missing someone, Exorcists?
A taunt and a threat in one simple phrase.
She licked blood off the tip of a finger before dipping it one final time, and added a cross underneath the message, a mockery of the cross the Exorcists wore so proudly, a cross reminiscent of the stigmata that were the mark of a Noah.
☠☠☠
Grell kept wearing that sick smile as he watched her, a being so like him. That same vicious smile, the same fascination with the crimson color… as she painted the message on, he took a finger and slid it through the dripping paint, bringing it back to his mouth, sniffing, discerning, before a languid lick, cleaning it from the expensive leather of his glove.
“Aaaah, what a sweet thing this must have come from,” Murmured, as he stepped back to allow her to admire the work.
☠☠☠
Road surveyed her work, pleased with the end effect. She thought it got the message across nicely. Still licking the blood off her fingers, she said with a smile "It'll do~."
And she was even more excited now than before, because finally the real game was beginning. "She is sweet, and oh so good. Her Innocence is so strong~. I wonder if it'll try to save her life again this time."
She grinned down at Grell. "I think we're done for now."
☠☠☠
Grell grinned wickedly, eyes locked a lingering moment on the work. Crimson, beautiful, luscious, crimson. There was always, there had always been something about it, about it and him. He garbed himself in crimson, wore it like a badge, and entrapped any and all in the snares of it. Wicked, decadent, and rotting, that vile nature. Such a pretty face, that he turned to Road, looking up with an echoed smile.
“Shall I escort you back, then, Little Mistress?~ Or would you like to take a step in the shadows and wait for them to find this?” It was always a hard choice, in his mind. Watching their horrified faces himself, or leaving it to his imagination.
☠☠☠
So hard to choose, whether to go back home where Tyki and the dolly waited, or to stay here and see the despair on the Exorcists' faces as they were confronted with something they couldn't ignore. If they'd been holding back before because they weren't directly involved, well now. She'd definitely given them the incentive they needed to leave the safety of the Firehouse and finally confront them.
"Back, I think. If I leave Tyki alone for too long, there won't be anything left of the dolly for me to play with. But~" looking at the blood still fresh on the wall, a smile still playing on her lips. "You're free to stay and watch them, if you like. You can tell me about it, afterwards, and I'll tell you everything about how we killed them over and over again."
☠☠☠
His lips curled, just a bit more, and Grell started to laugh, a high, feminine giggle, first, but as it grew, as his head threw back and he let loose, it grew deeper, more manic.
“I’ll partake.” Grell finally hissed, jagged teeth gnashing together gleefully. “Shall I escort you, Little Mistress?”
☠☠☠
She joined in the laughter, but it was not as free as Grell's, not just yet. Road was saving that for when the dust of the Exorcists' Innocence would be dancing around her, for when their lifeless bodies would lie at her feet, their blood on her hands.
"Yes please, Grell~." Fingers pressed against her lips coquettishly, as though he was merely escorting her back to a party or a dance, not a slaughter.