sixwordstories | (no subject)

Um..may I ask what happened?

~~Thread-jump like whoa~~

Excuse me. *her voice is low, her smile overly bright and patently false* May I ask what you're doing in my lover's -- I'm sorry, I just moved in, didn't I? Silly me. In our rooms?

ooc: sorry. She's a little territorial right now -- she just moved in with her lover. Couldn't stop her.

*she's looking at Balthazar's closet, trying to find a good place to hang her shirts, amused at the simple domesticity of the act. Most of her things are in slow transit -- her books, the keepsakes that she's accumulated of her long existence, the few weapons that she keeps with her as display instead of in the armory. She's looking around her, smiling to herself and contemplating what Balthazar's reaction is going to be when he returns when she hears someone at the door.

She turns, and is about to greet Circe when she sees the look in her eyes. The Princess may not use her emotions as weapons as Azrael does, but she's seen that look in his eyes enough times to know that something is desperately out of whack. Her voice is calm, but with steel beneath it and she looks Circe dead in the eye*

Princess.

*She blinks at the sound of her title, Death an unexpected kink in her plans. For a moment it looks like this may snap her out of whatever has come over her but then it only serves to drive the anger deeper. Didn't all this start with Death? When B took up with her? Obviously she was the one pushing him towards betraying her*

I'm looking for Balthazar.

He's not here. *something's happened, but she can't figure out what* May I help you, Princess?

No. I need him. *her voice is cold, her tone clipped*

Well, unfortunately, Princess, you can't have him right now, as he's not here. *she keeps her tone carefully neutral* Are you certain I can't aid you?

You could tell me where he is...

I could, if I kept tabs on him. He had something to attend to. *she's folding a pair of pants, deciding that the best course of action was, for the moment, to act as though things weren't desperately wrong. She opens a drawer and places her pants inside, closing it again before turning to the Princess, regarding her calmly*

You've moved in?

*she straightens, blinking* Yes. Well, I'm in the process. Darkness knows how much useless nonsense I've collected over the millenia. Trying to sort it through and pare it down. You know the process.

*she nods, normally this would lead her into a long story of trying to get her and John's new room set up but today no such thing, just an icy glare*

Guess it doesn't do to have his whore too far off.

*she looks at Circe for a moment, trying to read her -- the feeling coming from her isn't normal, isn't right. But she can't read the Princess the way she can read Az, the way she's learning to read Balthazar. But her own anger's rising, and she does the best she can to choke it down.

She looks at Circe, her face carefully expressionless*

Remove yourself my rooms. At once.

My brother's rooms. Which he's allowing you in...for now.

Whatever mood you're indulging, whatever wound you up and sent you here, get over it. I will not tolerate it. Go.

Fine. You're a waste of time anyway.

Tell my brother I'm looking for him.

Oh, I'll be sure to let him know. *she turns back to her unpacking, finished with her*

*He's sitting in the over sized chair by the fireplace, glass of whiskey in hand. It's been a very long and tiring day between his mother and Ian, and he's escaped to his rooms for a bit of peace until Arali can join him. When he hears the doors he assumes it's her, but the tread is different. Balthazar turns to face whoever it is when he sees Circe, and the look in her eyes.* Circe? What's wrong, Princess?

*He's never before seen her this angry, doesn't know what could have happened to set her off, but if she sought him out then he would do his best to fix it. Whatever it was.*

I was lonely. *she doesn't want to give up her game to fast...to set him on the defensive, but then she probably doesn't realize what her eyes look like -- the pure unbridled fire and rage within them*

*His brow furrows but he stands up to move closer to her.* Did you and John fight, darling?

You could say that. *No. They hadn't. She hadn't seen John since early that morning, but if Balthazar wanted to say that, he was more than welcome to.*

I...you were the first person I thought of. *she moves closer to him as well, closing the space between them, laying her hands on his chest. Her skin is hot -- the blood literally boiling beneath it.

*There's something off in the way she's acting. Her words and movements have a familiar edge to them that mark them as something not quite Circe herself. He steps back carefully but keeps his hands on her arms.* What's going on, Circe?

I just wanted to be with you. *she pouts for a moment before it twists, taking on a sadistic, murderous look* Or am I not good enough for that either?

What? *He's utterly confused by the statement and shakes his head.* I don't understand what you're talking about, darling.

I'm not stupid, no matter what you and the others may think. I know what's going on. What you plan to do. I thought maybe there was one or two things I was still good for but guess I was wrong. I'm not even good enough for you to fuck. Never have been. You always preferred Az for that. And how your little horseman whore.

*the words were spit out, cruel, but with conviction as if she honestly believed to the core of her being what was coming out of her mouth -- her anger and rage deep and real*

*He doesn't know where the words are coming from, can't fathom why she's saying them, but he can tell that the anger is very real.* Why don't you calm down, beautiful, and we'll discuss this rationally.

Because. I don't want to calm down. I am sick and tired of everyone constantly telling me what to do!

*He sighs. His already long and tiring day doesn't seem to be over quite yet.* Alright. Then why don't we discuss it when you decide to calm down. *He pulls away from her to stand by the door.* I'll be here when you're ready to talk to me, actually talk.

*He was dismissing her? Oh that was rich. She looks at him before moving towards him, past him as if leaving before whirling around and plunging a knife into him.

Normally that kind of thing wouldn't be any concern. He was a god. What could possibly touch him. But this was no ordinary knife and a few drops of her own blood with some ancient words had ensured that*

*She'd moved before he'd even realized she'd done it, knife sliding in neatly between his ribs and he could feel the burn of it when he tried to breathe. The blade was that of one of the Priests, imbued with dark magic the same as Ruby's, but this was blood specific. That much was obvious judging from the amount of pain he was currently in. It wouldn't kill him, but he would be forced to heal from this like a mortal.

She'd gone to great lengths for this, had meant to try and kill him. The knowledge of that cut far deeper than the blade itself. Balthazar pulled it out carefully, grunting as the barbed edges caught and ripped at skin and muscle. His vision swam as he looked back at her, hand clutching his side to staunch the flow of blood, a satisfied grin doing nothing to hide the anger still in her eyes. That wasn't Circe. That wasn't his sister. He knew it as sure as he knew himself. She reeked of Wrath and he cursed himself for not seeing it sooner.*

You really thought I wouldn't find out. I know what you and your whore are planning. And when I'm done with you, I'll see her to the bottom of the pit.

*A second knife appeared in her hands -- a girl couldn't be too prepared and she went to make a second cut, this time taking advantage of his pained position to aim higher*

*He blocked her arm as she brought it up, gripping her wrist hard and twisting the arm behind her back, forcing her to drop the second blade.* Circe, stop this. This isn't you. Arali moved in, I thought you knew, but it's no reason for all of this. Fight her influence.

*she winces in pain as Balthazar grabs her wrist, near threatening to crush it. The blade falls to the floor with a clatter. She struggles against his hold, against the pain -- fighting to get free* Let. Me. Go.

No. *He knows he can't maintain his hold on her, not when she's fighting like this and he's bleeding as he is. He reaches out and summons for two of the Royal Guard. When he's sure they have her he slumps against a wall.*

Take her down to the dungeons, let her loose on the sinners, but don't let her free until she's herself again.

*He sees the questions in their eyes, the flicker of fear at the order. Their Prince is bleeding and they're being told to hold their Princess against her will. Balthazar doesn't envy them, but he knows Circe will thank them in the end, telling them as much before reaching for a bottle of bloodwhiskey and taking a swig.*

*She glares at Balthazar as the two guards grab hold, this was not over. In fact, far from it.* Don't listen to him. I'm your queen. Let me go.

*The guards looked to him at her words and he shook his head in the negative, holding up his bloody hand as evidence.*

She's not in her right mind, and until such time as an official ceremony, she is not Queen. You are in no jeopardy by doing this. Do not harm her, just do not let her out of the dungeons until her anger has abated. She's under Wrath's influence.

*The guards nodding, taking Circe off with them. They didn't quite understand what was going on, but they were going to trust the Prince on this one. Taking her to the dungeons, they threw her in with the sinners -- waiting outside the door, wincing from the sounds coming from inside*

*He watches as they go and anger burns through him. Wrath will suffer before the day is done, but first a trip to the healers was in order. They may not be able to heal him completely, but they could at least patch him up. He was also going to have to find a very expensive, very sparkly gift for Circe. *