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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Jan 21, 2011 0:09:19 GMT -8
Charlotte did not like the look on his face. Especially with the odd expression that has been on his face only moments ago. She met his gaze with the same defiance she had been wielding against him this entire time. She laughed, before sauntering forward a couple steps. Leave David alone. Focus on the redhead, Hyde.
“Show me a bit of gratitude? Please. You and I both know that that wasn’t going to happen.” She tilted her head and smirked. “And as for going after me... have you actually stopped? Again would imply that you have. And I’ve run into you an awful lot. Is it because I don’t cower? Because you have no power over me? Does that bother you?”
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Post by The Smoking Man on Jan 21, 2011 1:32:05 GMT -8
Her laughter, her words...they made him angry, despite his better efforts. He tried not to let her see it, though...the only indication of how he was really feeling was the narrowing, the fire in his dark eyes. He squared his shoulders (which looked strange, now that he did it - his posture was so much more relaxed than Michael's), his gaze locked with hers, his grin twitching.
"No power over you?" His voice was a smoldering echo of her words - his blood still dripped steadily down his arms, his hands. "No POWER over you? Quite the contrary - how wrong you are. What you're doing right now...the way you're protecting him...that's a weakness. His being here...means I DO have power over you. It means you'll stand in the way...you'll stand there...you'll take the pain...because you are trying to keep me from HIM, aren't you?"
Suddenly darting forward, he brought his leg up, kicking towards her side again, aiming for her broken ribs with that bizarre grin on his face. She had driven him on, all right...egged him on, made him angry, driven him as he had driven her up the Clock Tower itself....
And, sure enough, it seemed that she really had driven him over the edge.
"I don't NEED any FUCKING POWER. All I needed was for HIM TO SHOW UP!"
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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Jan 21, 2011 1:58:42 GMT -8
He’s unhinged. He looks like he’s unhinged. More than he already had. And she had pissed him off. He tried to hide it... but she knew. She KNEW. Could read it in the narrowing of his eyes, the way they burned. That’s it. Focus on the target that can actually see you. She knew what she was doing was dangerous. Knew that it was foolish, and getting her into the very trouble York had tried to warn her away from. But she couldn't take the chance.
“That’s his power, Hyde. Not yours. Power I chose to give him,” she replied. “And to quote a very good book... You cannot not pass.”
He darted forward, fast; faster than Charlotte could react. His foot slammed into her ribs, the same ones he had already kicked earlier (it was only luck that his aim wasn’t quite as precise as he meant it to be). She keened in pain, the force of the blow twisting her around and knocking her staggering back. Somehow she managed to keep on her feet, though she was doubled over and white in the face.
Arm curled around her ribs, she took a moment to gather herself, to try and breathe... before straightening up and facing the Smoking Man once more. She couldn’t help the soft whimper of pain.
“You need someone else to show up before you can do anything? How... weak.” Her voice, a bit breathless, was still, never-the-less, dripping with disdain.
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Post by The Smoking Man on Jan 21, 2011 3:13:47 GMT -8
He laughed as she doubled over - walking right up to her when she straightened again. He wrapped his fingers around her chin, holding her head in position to look him right in the eyes. Smoke curled from his lips as he spoke, blowing right into her face, her eyes. His grip tightened when she spoke, hotter now, starting to burn.
"Weak? Weak? Hah. I'm not the weak one. HE is. That's why I am HERE." The grin disappeared from his face suddenly, giving way to a very dark, serious glower. His free hand curled into a fist - he struck her again, punching hard into her arm, forcing it back against her side. Picking at the same wound. Wearing her down. Now he really WAS torturing her.
...Funny thing, too....
He liked it.
"I don't need anyone to tell me what to do. You were right about that...I don't even need His advice weighing me down...."
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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Jan 21, 2011 5:56:14 GMT -8
Charlotte hissed as he wrapped his fingers around her chin. His grip tightened and it burned. The smoke curled down her throat and stung her eyes, but she blinked back the tears. She glared at him vehemently. She refused to show him any more fear than she already had. Anger he could have. Hatred he could have. No more fear.
“If HE’s weak... and you’re essentially the same person... what does that make YOU?” she replied. “Physical strength doesn’t make you strong.” He drove a fist into her arm, driving it back against her side. She cried out in pain, her knees buckling for a moment. For that moment his grip on her chin was the only thing keeping her up.
Her hand fisted into his shirt.
FUCK.
“Do you realise you capitalise pronouns when you talk of him? Like he’s your GOD,” she spat.
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Post by David Young Henning on Jan 21, 2011 7:49:05 GMT -8
Henning started forward as soon as the first blow was struck, but at first it it only looked as if Charlotte was involved in a private, lethal dance; she jerked back, her face twisting in pain, but Henning's gun was raised to point at nothing... There was nothing to aim at but smoke, and he couldn't risk hitting her... He blinked sweat out of his eyes and tried to focus, to ignore the terror and incomprehension threatening to overload his circuits, tried to reach down inside himself for some hidden artifact that would save them both...
Then he saw Charlotte start to drop to her knees... and stop. For a second, she held that unnatural pose- knees bent, chin tilted upwards, arms slightly raised to grasp something in front of her... Even though he couldn't see him, the Smoking Man was lifting her, he wasn't moving... And for a second Henning thought he could see the red-hot traces of fingerprints as they curled around Charlotte's throat. He aimed-
NOW.
Henning fired into the empty, ashen air.
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Post by The Smoking Man on Jan 21, 2011 13:38:14 GMT -8
The Smoking Man stood over her as she crumpled - her hand twisted into the fabric of his shirt, tightening it against the scars at the back of his neck, displaying more of the scars on his chest. He didn't wince - he embraced the pain his scars brought him, focused upon the girl. It would be easy, in this position - he could snap her neck. His grip tightened the other hand raising to join it, his intentions clear in his eyes.
...And when she spoke, when she said he spoke of his lesser self as if He was a GOD...something went off inside of him, all calm stripping away, the rasp momentarily lightening as he bellowed right in her face. The anger in his eyes changed...instead of blind rage, it was...more reminiscent of a hurt child. His chin quivered as he screamed.
"DON'T YOU EVER TALK TO ME ABOUT GOD, UNDERSTAND ME? DON'T YOU EVER FUCKING SAY THAT TO ME AGAIN, YOU FUCKING BITCH! HE IS NOT A GOD - HE IS NOTHING TO ME, DO YOU UNDERSTAND? HE IS NOTHING!" He shook her, moving up closer, bringing up his bleeding arms to break her neck....
And then a gunshot rang through the air, leaving him screaming and stumbling back. David's bullet had struck him in the right leg, leaving a deep wound in his calf.
...He could be affected by David's bullets?
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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Jan 21, 2011 14:14:39 GMT -8
Charlotte went cold when his other hand moved to join the one already gripping her chin. She could read his intent in his eyes...
And then everything changed when she said that he spoke of Michael like he was his god. She gasped and struggled to pull away when the Smoking Man bellowed into her face. She’d found his berserk button, it seemed. And it was a hair trigger. But that wasn’t blind rage in his eyes anymore... it reminded her of a hurt child. What the hell?
He shook her, moving closer and he was going to kill her, he was going to try and finish what he’d started, and she hurt, and David would have to watch. She shouldn’t have involved him, shouldn’t have...
A shot rang out, and the grip on her neck loosened, then released entirely as Hyde screamed and stumbled back. Charlotte crumpled to the ground, landing on her hands and knees, one arm wrapping back around her ribs. She turned her shocked gaze to David, before looking back at the Smoking Man.
David’s bullets affected him. He SHOT him. Couldn’t even see him. That answered the question as to whether or not those that couldn't see the Shadows or Hyde could still affect them. At least they could affect Hyde.
Oh GODS... Michael. He’d be waking up with a gunshot wound in his leg. She was relieved that he hadn’t been shot anywhere more vital... but waking up with an injury (several injuries) that he would have no idea how he’d gotten would be terrifying. “Jekyll...” she whispered softly. I’m sorry. If she had only KNOWN...
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Post by David Young Henning on Jan 21, 2011 15:14:37 GMT -8
At first Henning looked as astonished as Charlotte seemed to be, but his paralysis only lasted a moment. He darted forward to her side and started pulling her upright, all expediency, no time to be gentle... At the same time he was futilely scanning the rooftop and saying to her in a low, harsh whisper, "Charlotte, if you can hear me, tell me where he is. I know you can see him. Point me in the right direction and let's get out of here. NO MORE TALKING!! UNDERSTAND?"
This last shout had been directed at both of them. Henning's patience with not understanding a whit of what was going on had finally run out, and the pitying look Charlotte was giving the patch of air a few feet away to his right infuriated him all the more. He aimed at it as he began half-dragging Charlotte to her feet with his other arm around her shoulders, throat and eyes burning.
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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Jan 21, 2011 16:57:12 GMT -8
Charlotte choked back the scream of pain as David began pulling her upright, turning it into a sort of anguished whimper instead. She wanted to respond to his words, truly she did. But she was having a bit of trouble speaking past the fiery agony in her ribs. Tears trickled down her cheeks. Then he yelled, and the surprise and sheer volume of it made her flinch, jerking away instinctively.
OH, bad idea. She hissed, her knees giving way and throwing all of her weight onto him. It took a long moment, but she managed to get her feet mostly under her, taking some of the weight back off of David. She kept her free arm tight around her ribs. Fuck. She didn’t realise that she hissed the curse out loud.
She was terrified of Hyde’s reaction to the gunshot wound. She worried he would try to go for David, and that she wasn’t in shape to protect him at the moment. And she couldn’t let David KILL him. She reached out a trembling, bloody hand and covered his hand holding the gun.
“You can’t...” she rasped softly. GODS her throat hurt. “If you hurt Hyde... you hurt Jekyll.” She knew it wouldn’t make sense to him; and it would probably frustrate the hell out of him... but that’s the only way she could explain it. She couldn’t tell him that Michael had an alternate personality that could separate from him and wreak havoc on the town while the other was sleeping.
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Post by David Young Henning on Jan 21, 2011 17:30:45 GMT -8
"I'm not going to shoot him, goddammit, I don't even know who- what- HE is!" Henning said angrily, although he couldn't help relaxing his grip when he heard her gasps of pain. Still, he wasn't about to let her go, either.
"But now that I know he can be hurt, possibly killed, with a normal weapon, I don't want him coming near you. This gun is going to make him keep his distance. And at some point, after we're safely away from this mess, I'd like you to give me at least one good reason why we didn't blow his head off right here and now."
At the most inopportune moment possible, the word PENANCE drifted in milky-white capital letters across Henning's brain. Along with it came an image, almost like a snapshot, of a parking lot...
He glanced briefly over his shoulder. The door back down through the Clock Tower suddenly seemed miles away.
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Post by The Smoking Man on Jan 22, 2011 0:16:12 GMT -8
For the moment, the Smoking Man's composure was gone - he rolled on the ground, clutching at his leg and hissing in pain. He looked much like a wounded animal, his eyes wild as he tried to grapple with the pain...and more importantly, the realization. He had just gotten shot. HE had just gotten SHOT by someone who COULDN'T EVEN SEE HIM. Someone who was, presently, talking about him as if he knew him...someone who was acting as if landing this one shot meant he would magically stay away.
Roaring wordlessly, he rolled over, forcing himself onto his hands and knees. He glowered at Charlotte through his bangs...and at this moment, the difference between him and Michael was stifling. There was something animal about the Smoking Man, the way he carried himself...he was freer than Michael was, but by the same token, he was much less refined, much more...childish. Michael didn't act his age...but the Smoking Man came closer to it. Right now, in spite of himself, tears of pain were running down his pale face...his voice coming out in loud groans as he forced himself up onto his feet - his injured, bleeding leg quivering and threatening to buckle beneath him.
"...This...won't stop me," he finally growled, his voice dangerous, shaking with pain. He bared his teeth, clenching his fists and pumping more blood from his wounds. "And FUCK if that gun is going to keep me away. You can tell him that - you can tell him that he CAN'T STOP ME. No one can. No one - because...you won't let them." The grimace twitched, warped - it became a grin. He ran his hand back through his hair in a familiar display of exasperation, slicking blood through the filthy locks, knocking his hair into his face. He laughed, a breathless, shuddering sort of sound.
"You won't let them...because...if I die, He'll die too. And you won't let that happen. You're - AUGH-" He almost fell again, but caught himself, hunched over in pain as he fumbled for a new cigarette. He drew one out of the pack with his teeth, eyes never once leaving the girl - the girl and the man she was...he felt that strange twinge inside him again. His fists tightened.
"...You know...Hyde...Hyde isn't such a bad name," he chuckled, his eyes starting to glaze over. He lit the cigarette, tossing the matchstick off to one side. "I like it. In the story...in the story, Jekyll died...he took Hyde with him. But...it was...as HYDE that he died. Jekyll...Jekyll was fading away. Hyde devoured him. Jekyll had to die to free himself."
He took a long drag on his cigarette, blowing the smoke out slowly, obscuring himself once more in the dark cloud. Only the outline of his body could be seen, still hunched there like a creature waiting to pounce.
"But you won't let Jekyll die, Charlotte. You can't. Yes...."
The wind picked up, whistling across the rooftop, finally beginning to dispel the smoke...and his silhouette faded, his cold rasp ghosting behind.
"...My name is Hyde."
With that, he was gone, his cigarette falling to the floor, still burning.
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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Jan 22, 2011 1:03:23 GMT -8
Charlotte’s eyes didn’t waver from the Smoking Man. She knew that this would not be the last she saw of him, even before his words confirmed her suspicions. The being shot by a man who couldn’t even see him, a man who she was protecting, was only going to provoke him further. And she wouldn’t back down. At some point she would be on her own against him, and after this confrontation on the Clock Tower... she doubted that he would stop until she was dead.
“Of course it won’t,” she replied quietly. “You’re in this caucus race as much as I am.”
She made the decision then and there to not pass his message on to David. He didn’t need to know. Didn’t need to know that this wouldn’t stop Hyde.
As he continued to speak, Charlotte slid from David’s grasp, taking a step or two forward. Her fingernails dug into her palm with as her hands clenched into fists. MotherFUCKER! It burned her that... he was right. Every word he said was true. She wouldn’t.
She couldn’t.
And then he was gone, his claiming of the name she had given him lingering behind along with his cigarette. “God damn you Hyde,” she muttered. Charlotte turned back towards David, a little worried. This had been a very long exercise in the unbelievable for him. Though he’d been able to find a way to believe her when she told him the things she’d experienced... it was different actually experiencing it for oneself. She scrubbed a bloody hand though her hair, not even thinking. “He’s gone.”
For now.
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