Settle The Score | The Assassination of Fenix Down (Player Plot Open-Log)

[aelwyn_aberration]

Who: Aelwyn + Anyone Who Wants To Be Involved In This Assassination
When: April
Where: Around Gloucester, Springfield, the Circus, assorted other locations.
Summary: A murder is planned, executed, and staged. The details are yet to come.
Warnings: Discussions of murder, actual murder, blackmail, espionage, gaslighting, TBA.

[Several months ago, following the Circus' initial visit, Aelwyn was given permission to take down Fenix Down and his circus. Now, after more recent revelations about their unseen enemy, the plan has become a higher priority.

The plan is as follows. To ensure that this doesn't implicate ADI, a false cult will be created for this specific purpose. They'll keep the entity behind it vague, but one must be selected to ensure anyone paying enough attention would be able to identify it. They'll create conspiracy theories, fabricate old reports from decades ago to make it seem like this group is only recently being resurrected.

And then, with that done, they'll execute the plan itself. Staging the kidnapping and murder as if it was the act of that cult, and an extensive interrogation.

OOC Post here!]

Comments

[thedoctorsmate]

I'll be down when I've got a spare moment.
Ta!

cw: Various injuries

[bloodalwaystells]

Jaeger feels that sentiment completely. They'd known that the fight would be intense, but he tastes blood in his mouth, the skin of his chest and arm are fire, and he is just so incredibly done with this shit.

But the job's not finished yet, and they have to be thorough. Jaeger sucks in a breath full of smoke and dust, and then starts to cough, a rough and pained sound that brings up crimson into his hand. Something in his chest feels like broken glass, and he doesn't have to be a genius to guess that he's pushed too hard, damaged something inside.

Not good, but it passes after a minute. He wipes the blood off on his slacks, and narrows his eyes at the remains.

"There were sandbags at one of the booths further down. Sand or sawdust. That might work? We may not have much time."

And yet, amid all the pain and fatigue and what might be the first faint chiming of shock through his bones, there's elation, too- the satisfaction of dispatching their prey, of a Hunt completed. All that's left now is the bones.

"Otherwise, we might have to get creative with the burial."

Re: cw: Various injuries

[worthallthis]

That's one of the many joys of wearing a face mask: no dust inhalation problems. Winter looks up and over, taking in Jaeger's condition, though his expression is impossible to see behind said mask and goggles. "What if all someone had to do was brush the dust off. Some of it needs to be separated. Buried."

He looks Jaeger over one more time. They don't have a lot of time, but they don't have a lot of resources left, either, he thinks. Jaeger needs to sit down. Hell, Winter needs to sit down. But the mission isn't over yet. "Get a sandbag," he decides. "I'll bury some pieces over here. Take some with us. Bury them somewhere else. You douse in sand the rest."

cw: Various injuries

[bloodalwaystells]

There's an ashen sort of look to Jaeger's already-fair skin, the peek of a crust of blood under one nostril, but he gives a short nod at Winter's direction, steadies himself for another second and then moves to retrieve one of the bags of sand.

He's used to operating while compromised. His scars alone are a testament to that, and so is his stoic stance as he moves to heft the bag over one shoulder. Breathe, and keep moving. The pain is a steady burn, that becomes simple background noise as he pushes himself to make the short trip from the booth to Winter's side again.

The waxy, gory pieces have started to make a bit of progress toward reforming, and burial? Yeah. That seems like the best idea, even with time ticking down.

"There's enough here to mix with everything," he advises solemnly, letting the bag drop to the ground with a dull thump. "Both buried and not. Better not to take any chances."

[aelwyn_aberration]

That is such an overwhelmingly shit deal, I feel sorry for you. So what, you're a slave to something that isn't even listening to you? Wow. [She'd actually figured as much, whatever the entities are, they're not like the traditional gods she's used to. Closer to the Nightmare King, vague glimpses of information, no conversations, just creepy dreams at most.]

I'm ever so humbled by the knowledge you use people's preferred names when manipulating them and twisting them up. You're just a poor misunderstood little clown.

Do you often let your property walk away from you to leak all your dirty little secrets, Fenix? Or were you just unable or unwilling to say no to Pyre's papa?

[the_archivist]

Nightmare logic.

Jon says it crisply, and then sighs as he looks at Aelwyn.]

They are people. They aren't gods. They don't think like we do, not in any way people can really conceive of. It's like expecting us to understand the innermost thoughts of- of one of those bacteria that live on deep sea vents. Too alien to really conceive of.

But they- they sing.

[He still hears it sometimes. Not that hearing really is the right terminology. Still feels that pull.]

[the_archivist]

Of course. Whenever you feel like it.

[apocalypsehownpcs]

They sing and they dance. [For a moment, when Fenix looks at Jon, there's something less derisive, something more like understanding as he nods.] Always wondered how your lot experienced it.

[But it's only a moment before his attention is back on Aelwyn, a smug smirk curling up his lips.]

You're also only a slave if you're being forced to do something. Last I checked, I'm doing what I want. I wanna watch the world burn out, and the Dancing Flame's on board? Win-win, in my book. I don't need it to listen. It just needs to give me power. Which... it does.

[A burning sensation starts under Aelwyn's feet. There's no actual flame, and if she checks it later, there will be no damage, but it feels like she's standing on hot coals.]

Pyre's daddy is making a mistake, as far as I'm concerned. Kid'll come back to me, and he'll learn how we should really be doing things.

[lesbeau]

Mm, well, that's more complicated when someone isn't afraid of dying. Then again, that gives her another idea...

"So why tell us anything at all if you know you're going down? Hope we'll get your enemies once you're in the ground?" Before he has a chance to answer, another question hits her mind, and she speaks before she has the chance to think about it further.

"Are you afraid to die, Fenix?" Beau is studying his face, looking for a tell, a crack, a bit of... fear, maybe. Yeah, fear. She'll think of this later and wonder if these were her words at all, whether or not it mattered. "Are you just doing all this so you can delay your inevitable, painful death?"

[lowficharm]

People judge a lot when they don't really have the high ground to do so. But it's fine. I don't want to really dwell on that anyway.

Just be good to Jon, okay? You need to know something weird or sensitive, just ask me. I know you're the one who put him up to this.

[aelwyn_aberration]

Yes, sorry for interrupting your honeymoon. I'll give him back to you spick and span.

[whisperedone]

[He shrugs, pauses briefly as someone feels like they come near his space as they pass, but then presses on with her again.]

I do not think something that picks out it's chosen takes so kindly to those chosen being picked off. [A pause.] I was doing something similar back home, in Tal'dorei. Hunting chosen for the aim of the thorn it would put in their master's side.

That said...it's entirely possible they could send something bigger to stop us, but that in and of itself might prove useful. We shall see.

[He smiles a bit.]

Well, you and others shall, at least.

[He's funny, right? Laughing is nicer than the pang of missing friends, anyway.]

[musicdied]

He's not bleeding. Yelena sees Roderick jerk with the impact of being stabbed with a polearm wielded by a man built like a tank, hears him cry out, but there isn't a drop of blood.

It isn't entirely surprising - she'd seen Aelwyn's message noting that some of the Desolation's servitors are made of wax, and the sheer quantity of candles she'd found in the performers' quarters all those months ago had suddenly made a lot more sense - but not entirely surprising is still incredibly disquieting. Living things should bleed. Things that don't are a lot harder to kill.

She pivots, bracing herself with one hand on the ground, and swings her leg in a low, sweeping kick that hits Roderick hard at the knee. Bloodless or no, his joints still bend, and gravity still has its hold. He goes down hard, sacrificing the ability to break his fall in order to keep his hands where he can still use them. For a heartbeat, it seems almost comical, and then the remaining two canisters clipped to Yelena's belt ignite where the light of the lasers plays across them. She throws herself to the side with a guttural curse, before anything else can go up in flames.

[worthallthis]

Winter's used to it, too, though normally he'd be starting to knit together by now. Ugh. Sometimes he hates having to be a person now.

By the time Jaeger gets back, Winter has already dug a few shallow holes for some of the bigger pieces with the heel of his boots, and is scraping dirt over one of them. There is another piece, most of one hand, in his metal one, though the metal fingers keep twitching around it, something inside malfunctioning.

He kicks over the bag of sand, too, letting it start to spill over the wreckage, spreading it around with his boot. Kicking at things hurts, but bending over or crouching hurts, too, and he'd rather stay on his feet. "Pick a foot or and ear or something," he instructs. "Carry it with us. We need to go."

[apocalypsehownpcs]

"It's not where you end up, it's how you get there." His tone is blithe, but the simmering pain in Beau's body starts creeping up in intensity, perhaps indicating there is some fear there. "I'm telling you because I don't have anything to lose at this point. It's freeing, really."

[cacophonish]

The whole thing about Daddy and his plans should snag at Jeff's focus. If he had any real interest in helping the ADI, he'd probably take that lead and tug on it, see what he can find.

But he doesn't.

Instead, he fixes Fenix with a look, eyes bright and hungry with naked curiosity at the mention of the old Smoke and Mirrors circus. It takes him a moment, but he remembers where he'd heard about it before. The derailed train...

"So our sides... we used to be a whole lot closer, huh?" Makes sense. A little bit of mindfuck goes a long way in entertainment. "That why you've still got the mirror? None of my kind survived, just... that?"

If he seems melancholy, it's only for a moment, before he shrugs and lets out a thoughtful, somewhat amused hum.

"Well, I was never good at sharing the spotlight, anyway."

Just ask his old band back home. He could be a real monster of a frontman.

[lowficharm]

I don't own him, it's not like that.

But if he comes back and you hurt him you're going to have a lot more to be scared of from me. Got it?

[lesbeau]

Now that catches her interest, and she tilts her chin up, making sure she's looking down at him more. "Mmmm, dunno if I believe you. A guy who's totally chill about death wouldn't have set himself on fire to not naturally die."

Beau cracks a knuckle, getting ready to go at him again, maybe to finally weed out the truth this time. "Sort of sounds like you're looking for a way out. Hoping we won't do a good enough job so you can keep on burning, huh? 'Cuz fires go out, Fenix. And you're pretty close to being a puddle of wax with a burnt-out wick."

[aelwyn_aberration]

[It's hard to really feel scared of Martin, but he's clearly not all he appears, so she can begrudgingly acknowledge the threat in his words as serious.]

He's not in any danger from me. I haven't forced him into anything.

Besides, this isn't a conversation to be had on the network.

[apocalypsehownpcs]

"Some of them survived. But the thing about a ritual, my boy, is if you don't get it right, you lose a lot of momentum. And a lot of people, too. No one wants to hitch their wagon to a failure.

"Everyone who didn't get tripped up by ADI's interference spun off their own way. I did for a while, myself, before I decided to make another run. It's a long road ahead now, I'll tell you that. These sorts of things don't come quickly."

[apocalypsehownpcs]

Fenix's brows simply rise up as there's a sharper pain to Beau's knees.

"My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my FOES, and oh, my friends—
It gives a lovely light!"

[lesbeau]

Alright, that's it. Beau grits her teeth, and finally decides she is done. She surges at him, pain be damned, and starts hitting what she thinks are just pressure points designed to make him tell the truth. What it manifests as more is... like opening a third eye. Like the feeling of Beau's fists reaching physically inside Fenix, trying to rip the truth out from the wax that forms his vocal chords, like she can see every lie, every time he's tried to escape, every pull he's had.

He can try to resist, of course. He very well might. But oh, it's going to hurt to do so.

"Tell me about your last ritual, tell me about your most recent plans, and tell me, Fenix, tell me you're fucking scared."

cw: Body parts

[bloodalwaystells]

With some of the sand spilled out, there's more than enough room in the burlap sandbag to fit in some pieces of the mess. Packed in sand, they should keep from reforming, Jaeger thinks, and well, he'll have to just go with that because that's what they have.

Bending over hurts, and nearly starts him coughing again, but he wipes his mouth on his already-bloodied sleeve and sets to gathering a couple of choice pieces of the...remains. It's easier to distance himself from that when he realizes that they are wax, not anything like flesh and blood at all. It's grotesque, but not quite as awful as actual meat would be.

Meat. Probably better he not think like that. He packs the parts into the sand carefully, then straightens and gives Winter a short, sharp nod.

"When you're ready, then."

[lesbeau]

[Hey, wait a fucking second--]

Wait, you're frpm Tal'dorei? Shit. Dude, I'm from Wildemount. I was in Tal'dorei for like, twenty minutes once.

[Just to pick up some cool weapons before they went on what they thought was a death mission, it's nbd, you know how it is.]

Are we both from the same like-- place, or time, or-- fuck, what year was it for you?

[apocalypsehownpcs]

His flesh gives in a way that isn't natural, like she's actually punching at wax. At first, there's no response except laughter, but that's quickly choked off as words begin to tumble out. "All right! All right! I'm scared! I'm scared of what you people are gonna do before you kill me. I'm scared I survived for nothing. I didn't even get to the ritual! You didn't give me a chance!"

Pain sears through Beau. For each hit, there's an answering agony lancing through her in that spot.

"I was just a kid the first time! The Great and Powerful Charlie! A magician they'd brought in last minute. You think Abe was gonna tell me any of the real info? He told us to wait in Boston. He had it all planned. We'd be there to hype up the crowd, get them all gathered to see the train bringing in the Big Top acts. But it all went wrong. They derailed. ADI derailed everything before they were supposed to. A couple dozen people died. Abe went up in smoke along with most of the headliners and the rest of us scattered.

"I hadn't even worked out what we were gonna do for our ritual, yet. That's still so far off. I needed a few decades to figure out the details, so would you people get off my dick?!"