twenty-six ➢ spam + private + public

[patheticvillain]

deck spam } open

[It has been said in the past that Cassel walks like a leopard dressed up as a house cat. This is still - very applicable. It's just that he uses his claws more these days and cleans them less, and he only really makes an effort to seem nice when he wants something he can't get with threats or bribes.]

[He doesn't care about the deck, but he does spend a decent amount of time on deck even now, even with everyone milling around like assholes trying to claw their way to the top of the mountain. He has a plan. He will be living like a king regardless, when this place falls apart; it's just a matter of pressing the right buttons and getting certain stubborn assholes graduated before the end goes from nigh to right now.]

[When he isn't committing violent acts of overwrought and symbolic discipline, he arranges a folding deck chair by the starboard rail and occupies himself with one of two equally important tasks. First, mending holes in his gloves - the less-than-deliberate ones; there's a small hole in the forefinger of his left and the ring finger of his right that were arranged on purpose, bless Shandra's rotting heart. Second, sketching. He possesses a honed fascination with the human form, what it can become, how far it can be stretched - literally - before bones break. Before the psyche does. Here, he's been working on his pencil drawings for years. They're horrific. Some of them are probably familiar.]

private } anya

[Voice, to start with, sounding tired and a touch disappointed; he understands, he truly does, how humiliating it can be when your inmate doesn't do what you want them to. And he does love Anya in his way. She's calculating and dangerous and desperately important to him. He wants her to succeed in the way that he has, here; wants her to bring someone else as far as she's come.]

[And he knows, too, that she cares for Dean. Sort of. It's all very complicated. She's Anya, after all.]

Chances are you've got some things to get off your chest today, little sister. Why haven't you come to me already?

spam } harvey

[Justice is a sham.]

[Which makes Cassel wonder sometimes if he and the Admiral would actually kind of get along. Pairing him and Harvey was a master stroke. If anyone's going to teach this stubborn piece of shit to let go of his convictions, it's absolutely the kid who was indiscriminately beaten down by the justice system and then turned on his heel and ripped it to shreds.]

[This does not, of course, mean that Cassel's job has been easy thus far. With the appearance of the door, things have gotten harder. Some bullshit's floating around about nonviolent resistance, and even if he wasn't positive that shit had trickled out of Harvey's mouth by dint of knowing him excruciatingly well, he'd have verified with - god, any number of people. Loose lips all over this ship.]

[He's brought shaving equipment. Harvey doesn't get knives. Not until he's ready. Not until it's right. He knocks on the door with the handle of the straight razor, the cool metal bleeding through the hole in his glove.]

Open up. Time to get pretty.

public } video

[For those who are old hat on this Barge, this display is nothing new. Cassel did it a couple of times with Anya - a whole lot more with Harvey. He's taken time after the blowback to collect himself, to grind his teeth until the pain flies off his face, to shake it off and push his hair back and adjust the cuffs of his gloves. He looks long-suffering, though bright-eyed.]

I realize we're all really excited about the door, but I still happen to have a job to do here, so - well. You all know how this goes.

[There's a cage approximately mid-deck, on a stand as tall as a podium, with a flat shelf. Something shifts inside it, then goes still.]

[Cassel turns the communicator towards the cage and zooms in. It's Harvey - this much is obvious from small details. The teeth, in particular, Cassel has let stay, protruding from a beaklike protrusion in the center of his face; they're acid-stained and shrunken slightly, left as an affectionate gesture for Ben and Anya, who will appreciate. One of the eyes is also the same, some pained part of Harvey's soul shining through. Tear ducts have been carefully left in on that side. The other eye is beady and black, like a rat's or a sparrow's.]

[He is roughly the size of a football, though not the same shape. His head is disproportionately large, to throw him off-balance. One side of his body is a patchwork of flesh and black fur, a vestigial arm with fully-functional fingers flexing helplessly, along with something that may once have been a leg, or not. The other side is unkempt white feathers, bereft of human limbs but sporting a single dovelike wing.]

[The camera shifts back to Cassel, then pans out to display the both of them. He gestures widely at the cage, a put-upon Vanna White.]

As usual, if you have any grievances to air with Harvey Dent, this would be an excellent time to do so. If you have any frustrations you'd like to take out on, you know, whoever, knock yourself out. He'll be on deck for eighteen hours.

Just restrain yourselves from killing him, if you can help it. I know it's trying.

spam, forward dated to wednesday 10/30 } chris & slevin

[It was surprisingly difficult to get Slevin out of commission for long enough to lock him up in Chris's room. Generally learned helplessness does wonders for the guy, but by all appearances Slevin seems to think he's from somewhere else and is thus obnoxiously infused with - well, not hope. Just pissiness.]

[In the end, a blunt object to the back of the head worked fine. But it was messy and lacking in style. Cassel disapproves.]

[Anyway: he's chained to a chair in Chris's room now, slowly but surely regaining consciousness. Cassel, with a sluggishly-bleeding laceration above his eye, is rifling through some notes. College-ruled, wrinkled from frequent consideration, but in meticulous handwriting. There's a certain amount of care here, pride in his work.]

[He waves his hand, exasperated.]

I don't know, I think your boy's gone insane. Legitimately off the wall crazy, as if there's any point in fighting it at all. It doesn't change much as far as tactics, but, I mean. This might take longer than expected.

[He taps his lip.] Could always take it one limb at a time. If it's gonna have to be slow anyway - it might as well be artful as well as effective.

Comments

spam;

[advocacy]

[Daneca has actually been staying away from the deck for the most part. She doesn't give a damn so much about opening the door. She's not sure what's on the other side of it, but she's not sure it's really what everyone thinks it is. But curiosity does get the better of her eventually. She comes at a low point when most have cleared out and away from the door and spots Cassel immediately. She does absolutely nothing to disguise the roll of her eyes.]

Figures you'd be here.

spam;

[patheticvillain]

[He's got one foot thrown over his knee, bent over his sketchbook with very little apparent concern for his surroundings. Which is, of course, bullshit; he heard her coming. When she speaks, though, he looks up and smiles brightly.]

[Plus ten transparent crap for Daneca. She deserves it!]

Hey! You need me for something? Or are you just exploring our portal to another world?

[Finger wiggle.]

spam;

[advocacy]

[She doesn't play that game Cassel does. She just glares at him hard. If looks could kill, he'd probably be skinned and dismembered by now.]

Unless you plan on launching yourself over the railing, no. I don't need you for shit, Cassel.

Spam, Forward dated

[mistconduct]

[Fully confused and irritated by the sudden change in demeanor his inmate seems to be experiencing, Chris sits up on his desk, looking over Slevin with a displeased glower]

So what, all that hard work was for nothing? What the shit, is he going to graduate or not?

[He slips off one of his boots and wings it at his inmate's head]

Hey, asshole! Rise and shine!

Spam

[andyougoleft]

[The jig, as they say, is up. It has been for a couple days or so now and while Goodkat wouldn't exactly praise him, he's proud of himself. Everything hurts - he didn't manage to escape Chris's insanity altogether, not when his alter ego seems to mostly accept being the punching bag of anyone in a bad mood - but he's still waking up and there's nothing, yet, that won't heal.

When he goes down in the end, it's every bit as embarrassing, but he pushes that away and focuses on not letting them know he's awake yet. At least not until Chris's heavy boot glances off his temple and makes him shout and jerk, abruptly twisting his wrists against where they're chained securely, dark eyes hot and glaring.

He snarls at Chris, fully awake.]

I'm going to kill you both, you sack of spoiled shit.

Spam

[patheticvillain]

Well, now you just look like a jackass. Put your shoe back on.

[But all of Cassel's attention is on Slevin now. He pushes off the wall and takes a step closer to Slevin, tipping his head on one side. His eyes are dark and predatory, looking for weaknesses. There are fewer than he'd like.]

You really are all fucked up in the head, Henry.

[He taps Slevin lightly on the nose - oh you - and punches straight for a clean break. Then he turns to Chris again.]

He's going to graduate. Stop being such a baby.

video;

[forgetyourusedtobe]

[Elena raises a brow.]

Man, were you holding back before with Bond...

Now I don't know whether to be more disgusted by or disappointed in you.

video;

[patheticvillain]

[Slow blink.]

I mean. Flip a coin? Fuck if I know what's going on inside your head.

video;

[forgetyourusedtobe]

[She barely resists the urge to roll his eyes.]

That's Dent's bag, not mine.

[soliterraneous]

[ So this? This is a thing.

This is a thing Aeryn has to see for herself because she was vaguely somewhat aware that Cassel had ...abilities. This is actually interesting, in a very messed up, broken sort of way.

Aeryn imagines the line for those who wish to beat Cassel with a heavy kitchen implement is long. Very, very long.

Still, she's on the deck. Looking at this... thing, that was once and still is Harvey Dent, headtilting at it. ]

[patheticvillain]

[He's only gonna hang out around the cage for about an hour. After that, Harvey's on his own. In the meantime, he's got a chair - that same deck chair - and is sitting next to Harvey looking up at the stars. Occasionally he'll talk to his inmate; Aeryn can probably hear him, tone chiding and disappointed.]

[He looks up as she approaches, letting his head fall slowly to one side. There's no disappointment in his eyes. Just blank curiosity.]

If you're gonna go for it, go for it. It's not like he's going anywhere.

[soliterraneous]

Mhm, I find myself curiously without grievance at this moment. [ More headtilting. ] Interesting design.

spam;

[outofclothes]

[You know what, Stark doesn't even bother responding to the message on the network. He wants to see this in person for himself and sure does pop straight out of a shadow as per usual.]

Look at you, kid.

[He offers a Malediction because Cassel earned it. And it'll probably help take off some of the edge of the blowback. Never let it be said Lucifer can't be a nice guy from time to time.]

Gotta admit, I'm impressed.

spam;

[patheticvillain]

[He actually does brighten at Stark's presence, at his attention. Because - he's the best at what he does, specifically, but Stark obviously perfected the entire genre.]

[It is on occasion nice to be noticed by Lucifer.]

[He lights the Malediction with a nod - it does help, and he does feel like he deserves it. Takes a drag.]

Thanks. I'm pretty proud of this one.

spam;

[outofclothes]

Question though. [Stark pauses to light a cigarette of his own.] Why fingers?

[bitteraftertaste]

Nice work.

[Although she had been somewhat horrified of his ability at first, honestly? It's grown on her. It's a pretty effective way to ruin someone psychologically.]

[patheticvillain]

Thanks. Pull out all the stops, right?

[He grins brightly at her.]

What's your favorite part? I'll do the next one for you.

[bitteraftertaste]

As long as the next one was named James Bond, I think I'd appreciate whatever your wonderful imagination decided to create.

The eyes are particularly impressive.

[private, voice]

[fridgetothefire]

You have no idea.

[A low, dry drawl, with that particular subvocal croak that is only ever really heard on the barge: the psychosomatic expectation that your throat has been worn out with screaming, after all the damage is healed.]

[private, voice]

[patheticvillain]

[He sighs.]

Obviously. Because you haven't told me. And when the really good or really bad stuff comes up, you don't tell.

Talk to me. [This last a drawling near-whine; he cajoles, he begs, he pleads. Though only with her, and only selectively.]

[private, voice]

[fridgetothefire]

I've been busy.

[She says it with a sigh, though hers is more simple weariness than exasperation.]

I was planning to come see you next. You're just impatient.

[This is true, and it brings a hint of a smile into her tone. When she wants to enjoy feeling powerful, she goes to Ben or Alex; when she needs to remember how powerful she is, she goes to Cassel.]

Deckspam, body horror and undead gore in link

[darknessb4me]

[The creatures slowly forcing their way through the CES door and out onto the deck aren't quiet - they whine and shuffle, agonized by the way their ill-fitting parts chafe together. A few of them are still breathing, reflexively, and it's a wet wheezing sound that heralds one of them creeping over to nose at Cassel's sketchbook.]

[patheticvillain]

[Cassel is focused enough that the arrival of the creatures doesn't draw his attention, at least until one of them gets in his business. Even then, he doesn't start, just reaches up absently to pat it with a little grin.]

Hey, you. Where's his majesty?

[spam]

[halftheman]

[ Oh good Goddamn. Not again. ]

[ Harvey got up quietly, and opened the door a crack; narrowing his eyes at his warden. ]

Don't recall there being a special occasion, Sharpe. I mean, we're all starving to death together, aren't we? That's like casual Friday at the office.

[spam]

[patheticvillain]

[When the door opens, Cassel grins at Harvey, bright and happy as a child. He flips the razor in the air and catches it smoothly by the handle, then gestures with it.]

It's a good thing you're so pretty, Harvey, or your bad attitude would be a real setback. Let me in? Pretty pretty please.

[Or he'll break the door down. He has ways and means.]