H I G H S T A K E S || SHATTEREDCRISIS

"Excuse my folly, darling. I’m sure you’ll punish me for it later," she said with a flirtatious tilt of her head and purse of her lips. She held him close, almost gently as he stepped over, but there was still that manic look in her eyes. Her gaiety and blood lust went hand in hand and it seemed that together they were unstoppable.  She followed him close behind, hooking her arm around his to look around him at the police officer with a wicked smile. She couldn’t stop touching him; Vale, that is. It was like the more they touched the wickeder their torture was. It was as if they did this sort of thing all the time together.  She made her way around Vale with her head titled and a look of genuine curiosity on her face. While the police man was easily a foot and a half taller than Idris, he was still wary of her and took a few shuffling steps back.                     “Rules,                                 Don’t talk when we’re talking.                                 Do everything we say.                                Play the game or I’ll murder every single                                  member of your family.                                For every time you do not do what we say,                               I’ll bite one of your fingers off.                                When I run out of fingers I’ll go for                                 other appendages.                                Now, here are the rules of the game, Vale,                                  if you could do the honors.”

This felt natural. He's met many who didn't...approve of him over the years, many who were indifferent and a few that enjoyed his antics but none that had played along with as much enthusiasm as him. So he happily played the part as if he was comfortable with her at his side.

He let her talk, enjoying how the two of them played off of each other so well, adding more and more layers to this game with it becoming more intriguing by the moment. At his cue he stepped forward, mirrored by the man's step back. The colour had drained from his face, some basic noises stuck in his throat, terror stopping him from coming up with an adequate response.

"Hello! Yes, it's very simple you see, you just have to make a choice for us." He grabbed the man by the front of his uniform, pulling him close before he can take another step away.

"There's two people outside. When you leave those doors and see the two people outside, you will have 60 and we will kill you all." Vale pressed a gun into the man's hand. "Unless you kill one of them first. Then you can walk away and you'll never see us again. Any questions?"

shatteredcrisis

[ He’s watching the stranger with a strange sort of glimmer in his eyes. Not curiosity, no — perhaps it’s more akin to wariness than anything else. He’s seen a man before who looked just like the very man who stood before him, but the augment can tell that they’re not the same. This one smells different, and the way he moves is too… haphazard. Too relaxed, too variable.           So he’s silent, a still statue carved of the purest marble, and just watches with that strange sort of glimmer in his eyes. ]

[ There was something in the other's eyes. Recognition? Wariness? Vale kept on a calm, friendly facade, falling easily into the Doctor persona he so often took. ]

"Nice ship you've got here. I couldn't resist taking a look."

"I do not see how that holds any relevance in this conversation, Vale." He could’ve spat venom at the other man and it would not have compared to the spite within each syllable of his tone.

"You are not the Doctor, obviously. So perhaps I should be asking the more appropriate question of what are you.”

"Actually, it has all the relevance as to how this conversation ends." He seemed almost oblivious, or just uncaring, of the other's hostility, his own voice still at a conversational tone.

"I'm just a Time Lord passing by. But really, if you don't have any energy left then I'm wasting both our times. So, do you? Floppy Hair's usually all tapped out, but I can never be certain."

In a swift, barely noticeable movement, he had flown off and returned with a fresh, new blade in hand. Though the images of his wings had vanished and his eyes had returned to their normal state, his free hand still glowed with grace, ready to smite if the need for it presented itself. He fixed the man before him with a glare, giving a brisk shake of his head.

"You overpowered me only because I thought you were someone else," he retorted, anger clear in his tone. He spun the blade expertly in his hand, head tilted to the side slightly. 

"I must ask you to keep in mind that it is part of my job to rid the world of abominations such as yourself.”

" — So that is exactly what I intend on doing."

"Hm, fair enough I suppose. Still, it's stupid to trust someone just because they look like a friend." Vale remained at a distance, looking weary but feeling anything but. He wanted to see what this angel could do, would do, and the metacrisis raised his stolen blade defensively.

Conventional weapons didn't seem to phase this creature at all, but Vale was willing to do some experimenting. Just let the thing get close, and he'll see what he can do.

"Come then, Castiel. Try, do us both a favour and end it."

Everyone has Enemies-shatteredcrisis

"It’s a routine mission." AV stated as he looked over his protege. The Valeyard moved his hand as he talked and shifted to walk into a pacing formation. "A simple gather and find. As far as I’ve known, this revolution will die out, as the other ones have before it."

He turned back towards Vale and nodded. “Do you feel up to the task, my friend?” AV stated with a lifted eyebrow.” The planet is Lizarohaxano. The people are…weak, at most.” He shrugged and turned back towards Vale. “But they could have outside help. I want this taken care of quickly and efficiently.”

Vale stood quietly, checking his gear and equipment as the Valeyard gave the briefing. Everything was in place and he was ready. They were just putting down a rebellion, nothing too unusual. Have the King himself stride in, give a show and scare the living crap out of these guys until they give in. Simple.

"I'm ready when you are," Vale told the other with a nod, heading for the shuttle that will take them down.

H I G H S T A K E S || SHATTEREDCRISIS

She rubbed her nose against his in the close contact and gave a wicked laugh, that was a little closer to a giggle than she’d expected. She was having an absolute blast; who knew the metacrisis would be so entertaining. “You spoil me,” she said with a smirk, and she wasn’t lying, she would get used to this kind of attention and action from him and grow to expect it.

She put her arms around his neck and kicked her feet out. Her head fell back as she laughed, truly laughing. “Oh you are such fun,” she said planting a kiss to his cheek, “I didn’t think a fuddy duddy like you could ever loosen up. Stay this way forever, eh?” She looked to the couple and smiled sweetly, “we’ll only be a bit. Promise. Don’t misbehave or I will literally eat you. Carry me over the threshold, Vale, like a queen. I’ve always wanted someone to do that for me.”

"Oh, you must have mistaken me for another Not-Doctor sweetie. I live for this." He laughed, pausing a moment to kick in the Tardis doors. They slammed open with a large bang! and Vale took deliberate steps over the entrance of Ark, as requested. Hooking the door with a fet, he idly slammed it close behind them.

The policeman hadn't gone far, stunned by this bigger-on-the-inside wonder and perhaps eyeing some of the suspicious reddish-brown stains that covered the floors and walls. He wasn't aware of the massacre outside just yet and at the sight of the metacrisis again, the man immediately ruffled up with indignation, as if ready to give a lecture.

Vale helped lower Idris back to the ground as he approached the policeman.

"No, shut up, and listen. This is our game, and these are the rules."

Common Enemies || torvicfordfarding

It was nice to feel in control again. To have the power to hurt someone who pissed you off. Maybe it was a better idea if the green man knew of what he done/ There would be questions as to why he was down at this wing, but if he was able to grab more Intel maybe AV will have him for free rein

Torvic was so caught up with his plotting he approached the other with out thinking :I have a slight sprain in my right shoulder but other then 3 bruises i can feel forming i am fine. I wasn’t cut. How about you?” was he… showing concern for Vales well being. Oh maybe he should go get his head scanned.

Vale grabbed the other's wrist and sent sparks of healing energy up Torvic's arm, targeting the areas the boy mentioned and within moments the young Time Lord was patched up.

"They didn't kill me and that's all that matters." Vale dropped the other's hand and gave a little wave to draw attention to the golden light that still lingered on his fingertips. I can heal myself, dumbass.

"I'll go drop this guy in a cell and drop in for a report. You go do your thing, and I'm sure Tramp will clean up the mess for us."

                                                                 When                                                                                                                                  you’re                                                                 h  u  r  t                                                                    and                                                          s  c  a  r  e  d                                                                    for                                                                    so                                                              l  o  n  g,                                                                   the                                                               f  e  a  r                                                                   and                                                               p  a  i  n                                                                    turn                                                                      to                                                                 h  a  t  e                                       and the hate starts to change the world.

The Betrayal of Fear | missingaheart + shatteredcrisis

          No…           Rose’s eyes widened as she caught sight of her beloved sonic blaster, and all of its cherished memories, held within the hands of the Doctor Monster. His eyes roamed over its worn surface, as if examining it, looking into the way in which every mark told a story; she almost felt naked — the weapon was old, had been in the hands of a friend who had long since passed from her life, and the Monster was touching it. And then it was in the air, tossed haphazardly until it clattered to the ground, earning a wince from her — no doubt a new story was just carved into the handle of her precious weapon.           She watched with growing fear as he drew in the sonic’s place a firearm — eerily familiar — and placing within its dark maw only one bullet. Her eyes could have been black, for the pupils had expanded in silent terror, fading into the dark brown of her irises somewhere along the way. She stared, rapt, until the voice of her Doctor cut through the air, demanding his darkened doppelganger to cease whatever game he thought himself playing.           To which of course, the other gave a chilling, short, one-word reply.           She shivered involuntarily.           The blonde didn’t respond to that call, that demand for it all to stop; her eyes refocused on the mirror image of her Doctor again, watching warily. Behind her, hands bound by that terrible, unyielding rope, her fingers stretched — if only she could reach the KA-BAR’s handle, or even the knife in her boot! Both seemed impossibly far away; as he spoke, she feigned her undivided attention, though really she was slowly arching her back, trying to close the distance between her yearning fingers and the pommel of her weapon. They brushed against the cool orb, the compass embedded into the pommel, before suddenly she felt fingers thread through her hair——

          Painfully, she was yanked into a kneeling position; Rose couldn’t help but let a whimper of pain escape from her lips, grimacing. Her eyes watered, scalp burned from the sudden movement. Still, she forced her own quivering gaze to meet that of the Monster, who spoke his intents, clear and precise. 

          And her lip curved harshly, and yet she didn’t even speak. Her eyes glared daggers, but her tongue bore no sharp words. There was only silence — no questions asked! — until——-            I have to do something.           It was a festering wound that finally bled out, the fear and the instinctual urge to fight back rising up in a violent torrent of m o v e m e n t. She didn’t even know what to call it, save for an explosion of muscles, a piercing shout that tore itself raw from her throat. A great hurricane of movement and sound; her head roared with pain — fingers still tangled in her hair, Rose registered vaguely — but her voice roared louder. Her hands were still bound, but of course, her legs were free, and one booted foot shot forward, aiming for anything flesh.                                               This rose has got thorns.

She responded with defiant silence and a fire in her eyes. So far, she was keeping it together quite well, it probably hasn't sunk in just how hopeless her situation was. Rose has been in plenty of bad situations before but she's never faced him. She still had hope.

And that meant she was still fighting. He felt the beginning of her attack before she lashed out with a feral cry, but it was clumsy and not with the kind of precision he had come to expect from the Torchwood-trained woman. She was scared, and rightly so.

There was still a game to be played though, and he allowed her foot to hook into his ankle, taking him down. Vale landed roughly on top of her, sending both of them sprawling to the ground. He allowed himself a moment of shocked silence, groaning as he tried to untangle his hand from her hair, to roll off of her and onto his knees.

"Please don't fight me," he whined, suddenly sounding much smaller than he had moments ago, the bravado gone from his voice. "I'm sorry. I— I didn't mean to..."

He scrambled away from her, looking scared and confused.

"—help me."

           How much can you take 

                     before you 

                                  { S N A P }

The Betrayal of Fear | missingaheart + shatteredcrisis

          She wanted to bring her hands forth, to reach instantly for the leather sheathe that housed her KA-BAR, or to find one of her other weapons, but immediately she realized that such an action would — literally — be impossible. Something rough and thick bit mercilessly into her wrists, and Rose realized that her hands were bound behind her back; even the slightest movement rubbed painfully against the skin of her wrists, which would no doubt be red and bleeding if she decided to struggle.

          So she remained still, lying helplessly on her side in a pool of golden hair that splayed out on the floor beneath her head. Two dark brown eyes glared with malice at the Doctor (though at this point, who was he, really? Not Doctor. A… a Monster.), though what could Rose possibly do in a position like this? Nothing! Absolutely nothing.           I’ve still got my boot knife, thought Rose, whose eyes flickered to study the surrounding area, An’ he left my KA-BAR on me? Either very bold, or a moron. Maybe both. Wouldn’t that be nice? She was disappointed to find, however, that she could not feel the light, but sure, weight of her sonic blaster anywhere upon her person. Musta dropped it.           Her surroundings were strangely unfamiliar, but the contrasting lighting, harsher than she remembered, and the general setup of the area was all too familiar; the blonde knew exactly where they were — his TARDIS. There was a sharp intake of breath, painful as it rattled around in her lungs, which she blew out silently as her name pierced the air, muffled, screamed by a voice more familiar than the eerie surroundings that housed them all.                                                           Doctor.           Rose’s head lifted slightly, as if to get a better look at the two side-by-side. The differences were uncannily clear then, with the Doctor appearing rather cheerful with that sunshine-y declaration of his, and the other frantically banging against a wall of nothing; she could see his lips moving, but her eyes were focusing on the master of this little game, the Monster that started it all.

          “I’d… rather not," replied the blonde, lips curling in a scowl. He wasn’t as talkative as she would have liked, as she’d learned from that nice little zap into unconsciousness, meaning that she wouldn’t be able to stall by just talking to him. No, no, none of that then. Rose’s mind was working mega-fast, trying to figure out how to get out of this with her Doctor at her side and that… thing either incapacitated or, dare she say it, dead. “I think a li’l game o’ chess would be more appealin’ than whatever you’ve got in mind.”

"Chess? This is chess, you silly girl. You push the right pawns, make the right moves and counter-moves, separate the king from his queen..." He gestured at the two of them with a hand to make sure there was no doubt who he was referring to in his little metaphor.

He picked something off the console —a rather familiar sonic blaster— and turned it in his hand for examination.

"My people invented chess you know. The rules were a bit different but it's always been just a clash of wills." He considered the blaster a moment longer before tossing it over his shoulder, letting it clatter and skid across the floor until it stopped at the wall. Instead, he pulled out a standard-issue Torchwood firearm, making a show of carefully loading a single bullet. This one he had nicked from the Doctor.

"Doctor! Whatever the hell you're playing at here, it's not funny. Stop all of this! Leave Rose alone!"

Vale looked up at the angry glare of the Doctor, his body quivering with rage and unmade threats burning in his eyes. He didn't have to make them— they were the same man after all, more alike in some ways than the other would ever know.

"No." Vale replied simply, setting the now-loaded gun down on the console before hopping to his feet, waltzing over to Rose's side. Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he yanked her up onto her knees.

"This is how it's going to work. Rose, you will stand and speak your last words with your Doctor here as witness. I will then proceed to blindfold you, march you over there—" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, "—at which point I will shoot you, and you will die. Any questions?"

The fingers of his uninjured hand curled into a fist, each breath he took quick and ragged. He struggled against his bonds in agony, small yelps escaping him seemingly against his will. Any remnants of fear had been replaced with a burning anger. The presence of his own blade at his chin was hard to ignore, though he managed to focus instead on the monster before him. 

"You seem to be forgetting that it’s my duty as an angel to protect humanity,” he growled, pain clear in his strangled voice. “I personally see them as works of art — however there are certainly some exceptions.” 

He paused for a short moment, images of his friends flashing through his mind. ” — And they’re not little. Neither am I.” 

Closing his eyes in concentration, Castiel focused on any energy, any grace he had left. He willed it forward, feeling it gradually spread through his veins. It worked its way through his vessel, working at his wounds, healing them. The distinct sound of high frequency filled the room, and when his eyes opened, his blue hues were glowing with a divine light. The light grew brighter, radiating from him; and with that light came the shadows of his unfurling wings, flickering on the floor and walls. 

With the last of his strength, the angel forced his arms upward, breaking through his restraints. The palms of his hands now glowed white, and he felt almost whole again.

"You wanted to see my grace — so here it is."

People broke in all sorts of ways. There were those that would just deflate, lose themselves slowly, some that would remain strong until they can't take the stress anymore and simply just shatter.

And then there were those who were embers, smothered until the flames would rise one last time in a tall, brilliant flare before consuming itself forever. He saw that fire in Castiel's eye and knew that thing were about to get interesting.

He felt the power more than he saw its effects, closing wounds and creating a painful screeching sound. Flipping the angel blade expertly in his hand, the metacrisis backed off a step or two, more out of curiosity to see what would happen rather than fear. He wasn't disappointed.

"Niiiiiice," he whistled, scanning the shadow across his Tardis walls. Invisible on the electromagnetic spectrum, but still there, nonetheless. Vale couldn't help but start fantasies of just what he could do to someone with wings. It might be more fun to throw the Angel out after clipping his feathers than to kill him outright.

"Still, there's a reason you held back on me all this time. That little display of yours is costly, a last resort I'm assuming." Golden regeneration energy crackled to the surface of his skin, ready for a fight as he brandished the angel blade. "I overpowered you once, think you can take me again?"