tampered | Log; Complete

When; Dec. 14th
Rating; PG
Characters; Grell [

dreamsofnoah
Summary; Ready to escape the puss and rot and ick of the zombies, Road offers Grell time away in her seperate little dream world, (because Tyki is a meanie and it's much easier to get Grell to play?~).
Log;

Gross, gross, grooooooooosssssss- Grell tiptoed through the streets, careful where he stepped, shuddering at every squelch and splat he heard around him. His shoes- oh, gracious, the rot could get on his shoes. The twitch started above his left eye, and shivered all the way down his spine, ending in a wriggle of his hips.

"Oh, nnnnnnnn-" The shinigami, (delicately sensitive~!!), flung his hands out in disgust. With a rather out-put frown on his face he stepped, leaping in to shadows in the manner of a death god before stepping out at the little Noah's apartment, brushing off his coat and inspecting for mess, only finding traces of gunpowder. Ugh- And having to come straight in this ugly butler disguise, too! No make-up, these drab clothes-

How disgraceful... at least he had a change in his bag- Quickly, he would return to the more attractive appearence. For now, he fussed with the mousy brown hair and simple spectacles. ... How boring- But not as nearly offensive as rotting things.

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A push, and the doll was sitting down. Road leaned over to pick up a few compacts of rouge and blush from among the discarded toys and with a dainty little brush in his hand 'Jack' started to pretty up the doll, the other small hand under her chin to hold her steady - those tremors of fear would spoil the effect otherwise.

Red hair brushed back by tiny fingers, Road held him back to admire his work.

"And now - now for the main event! Strike up the music!"

Edited 2008-12-15 15:26 (UTC)

The Mad Hatter doll, and it bowed, flourish and act.

"As the ringleader's assistant commands~" The hum started in the back of his throat, growing slowly to crescendo- opera, one of his favorite pieces that he had used before. Königin der Nacht.

He hit the notes correctly, (if not an octave lower), to drown out the screams that would soon come- He knew this act, this play-

And his blood boiled just replaying it.

Of course there's no actual chainsaw, but the Jack doll grabbed one of the victim's arms and the Road doll grabbed the other, and they twisted and pulled, the joints giving way, the tin of rouge upsetting, everything covered in bright red.

And so on they continue, ripping the doll to pieces, fabric and porcelain torn and shattered (but such a poor substitute for skin and bone), 'Jack' and 'Road' and Road's hands covered in as much red as the broken doll.

Not even laughing now, just grinning brightly, golden eyes intent on the scene.

Oh, he's not laughing either, concentrating on the background music, growing louder and louder, fingertips plying out on his sternum, focusing sound and effort- For the music to this sick, sick, play.

When the doll was ripped to pieces, his grin was too broad to hide, sharp teeth gnashed together and lips twisted in foul delight. Little broken toys, trashed soldiers, soiled dollies, all cast aside in the wake of those like they-

Who just loved killing.

"A beautiful act, little mistress," Grell finally crooned, reverently running his fingers through the ravished doll's hair.

Road brought a finger up to her mouth to lick the red off, then made a face as she realized it wasn't blood. Oops, she'd gotten a bit too caught up in their playtime.

"Just like tomorrow's will be." She moved to sit next to him, dolls left lying about now that she'd lost her interest in them. She pulled a lollipop out of the folds of her dress, something sweet to take the nasty taste of the rouge away. She let her head rest against his shoulder, kicking off her shoes to reach out stockinged toes towards the fireplace.

A giggle, as he pulled a hankerchief from his vest waist pocket, handing it to her to clean her make-up'd fingers, basking in the atmosphere- children, Sebas-chan, delightful sadistic-

Whoops, back on track.

"It's all the more saddening to think it will be forgotten among that disgusting crowd outside..." He lamented, making a distressed face, an upset pout.

Enjoying being fussed over, Road held out her hands instead so that he could clean them for her.

"Why don't we wait until the zombies are gone, then? It'll be just the thing to cheer everyone up afterwards ♥~" she asked, forming the words around the lollipop held in the side of her mouth.

Bless her selfish little heart... Ah, a true creature after his own heart. Smiling a little smile as he thought to himself, he took her hands over one knee to begin, gently cleaning off the crimson.

"Hmm.... good pooooint~" He drawled in a sing song voice. "I do so want to have fun, but- It's no fun if no one notices..."

"Then maybe we can tell Hatter we're postponing it for just a little~ while?" Tap tap tapping her fingers against his knee while he cleaned then, Road yawned a little.

"It's so much nicer here, isn't it? Away from them. Not real but much more real and made up to match." She mumbled the last bit, starting to drift off into sleep since the room was nice and warm and there are no pesky humans about to annoy her. And Grell to fuss over her, of course.

"At the first respite, we'll hit them." He crooned, soft and sickly sweet. "So they don't forget to look behind them, when they walk alone at night~"

Oh, but she was a doll, and the good kind, not the ones bound and broken on the floor. A girlish, maternal, sort of pride rose in him, stroking her hair briefly as she settled in to half sleep.

"It is certainly~ The little mistress' powers can do amazing things."

A soft muffled giggle. "They will." She hummed to herself as he stroked her hair, so cosy like this, a Death God and a Noah playing happy families. So very very wrong, which only made her enjoy it more.

She shifted herself slightly to get more comfortable, closing her eyes. "We can do anything and everything we like. That's what makes us different to everyone else."

It's what drove him to this, too. Wrongness, something that resonated as oh so wrong. And he loved it.

Settling himself, his eyes closed, lips quirked in to the delicate pursed, satisfied smile. "It's what makes us gods, after all, in the eyes of mere men." Death gods, and little girls who could create worlds with a dreamy thought.

"And gods, well-" Eyes opened just a little, dark and dangerous. "They're beyond comprehension."

Log; Complete

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