paradisalogs | (no subject)

[He claps his hands in delight.]

I am glad you asked.

I thought you and me should have a little bit of a getting to know you session. You seem to know a fair bit about me but you seem to be missing a few minor details.

Like how I dislike people interfering with any personal business of mine.

And to help ... I have brought in a mediator

[He disappears to another room for a few minutes but when returns he appears to be pushing a wheelbarrow with a very beaten and battered Castiel in it.

He tips the body onto the floor. It doe not land delicately.]

Oh dear ... seems our mediator has had something of an accident.

Ah well never mind ... we should probably continue without him.

[Silva now walks over to a table at the far end of this room. It'll be hard to make out what is on it but they look metalic.]

Edited 2013-12-06 23:00 (UTC)

I don't give a crap about you or your personal business. If you're referring to our last little meeting, take it up with the rest of the people who wanted you to rot in a cell.

[When he brings out Cas beaten and bloody in a wheelbarrow, her jaw tightens and she instinctively lunges to rush to his side, only to be knocked back a few steps by the force of the devil's trap.

In a panic, she realizes she shouldn't react any more at all. This was what Crowley had done - used Cas against her. She had to calmly remind herself that this wasn't Crowley, this wasn't hell, and they would be fine.

She supposes Castiel was a fairly obvious target since they could more often than not be seen around the castle and town together. Meg steels herself. No way he is she gonna let this overconfident maggot get under her skin. Her tone is nonchalant.]

Accident, huh? Kinda like what happened to James?

[Her eyes widen a little when she sees the table. What the hell did he think he was doing?]

[ He's eyeing up his instruments ...inspecting them before he makes his first move. Not even watching her as she makes the remark about James]

You know ... there does appear to be a lot of that happening lately.

[He makes his way over to her, carrying a syringe in his hand.]

I wish I did not have to do this myself ... but I do not have the manpower I once did and I am nothing if not adaptable Meg.

Anyway time to break the ice.

[It gets jammed in the side of her neck ... hard. He pushes down on it slowly so the holy water inside can take its time making it's way round her body.]

[Castiel doesn't awaken while Silva's hauling him into the wheelbarrow or even when he's dumped out of it once again, but what prompts him to finally begin stirring again is Meg's voice. He doesn't place it as hers or actually understand what's being said at first, but he's aware of the the feeling of the warehouse floor under his fingers and the presence of other people for several seconds before he bothers to try opening his eyes.

That doesn't go over great, at despite the low light everything is far too bright and he shuts his eyes again, moving a little bit to draw his injured arm back toward himself on reflex. He decides to focus on listening instead of seeing, ignoring the pounding headache until he can make out the tail end of the conversation between Meg and Silva, and oh. That's not good. When did Meg even get here...?

He opens his eyes again, trying to figure out exactly what's going on so that he can do something--he needs to protect Meg from whatever is going on, this guy is crazy--but this is all easier said than done. He only manages to lift his head and clear his vision enough to catch sight of Silva injecting Meg with... Something. Whatever it is, Castiel is sure it isn't good, and despite his injuries he's suddenly right back to angry, trying to find something to use as a weapon while attention isn't focused on him.]

[She glares after him, squinting, trying to see what he's got going over there.

Her common sense tells her this guy is a psycho and it could be anything, but her ego is a soothing balm that mistakenly reassures her she has nothing to worry about.]

Sure does. If only we knew the cause. I bet everyone would be just fine with taking that person out, you know, for the greater good.

[When he comes at her with the syringe, she foolishly stands still, assuming nothing he could inject her with would really cause any damage.

The searing pain that pulses through her bloodstream says otherwise, and she screams, moreso from the surprise of the discomfort than the actual pain level. She's had worse, but... that had to be holy water... how did he know? Were there really books about her kind in the library? She somehow doubted Dean Winchester had been giving out private demon torture lessons. Even he wasn't that much of a dick.

The shock wears off and the humor of the situation sets in, and as such, the screams change to maniacal laughter.]

Let me get this straight, [she breathes out, raggedly] -- you're gonna torture me?

[He tilts his head and watchs her reaction. His expression could be considered one of curiosity rather then hate.

But he can't say he isn't enjoying this. Watching her squirm and suffer like she made him suffer. He's even forgotten about Castiel for the time being.]

Torture is such an ugly word ... I prefer to think of this as an experiment.

It is fascinating to find what can truly hurt your species.

[He makes his way back over to the table, humming a little tune and almost skipping along the way.

The next item off the table isn't anything as extravagant as his last one ... a salt jar.]

Open wide darling.

[After unscrewing the lid he forceably pulls her head back and emptys its contents down her throat. He takes a step back after he's done ... dusting off his hands and watching her reaction.]

[The screaming is incredibly loud to Castiel, and he ducks his head against the floor and shuts his eyes tightly once again, but it's also the reason he convinces himself to truly get up. He has to help Meg; he's not going to just watch her be hurt if he can do anything about it.

There doesn't appear to be anything useful in the immediate vicinity for him to use as a weapon, but he's sure there are plenty on that table. He plays unconscious again when Silva moves to get the jar, waiting until his attention is on Meg before pushing himself up on his hands and then getting unsteadily to his feet.

The world tilts sideways and his head dips as he nearly loses conscious again, but her fights it off and silently steps around behind Silva toward the table. His fingers close on a knife, and he immediately takes a stab at Silva while his back is turned.]

Edited 2013-12-08 16:48 (UTC)

[Oh dear, I guess he was a little too into torturing Meg to notice Castiel at first. He moves quickly when he hears movement coming from behind him though.

But not quick enough the knife hits him in the shoulder as he turns to meet the man. With a frustrated and painful cry he kicks Castiel in the stomach and flings him to the ground, the knife falls to the floor as he does so.]

Tut tut ... don't you know it is rude to interrupt?

You think that little tickle was enough to hurt me?

[She spits out the words like venom. Her veins are burning up from the inside out, but it's still nowhere near the levels of pain she's endured - or inflicted, for that matter.

When he comes back with the salt, her eyes widen again, but this time it's because she sees Castiel coming up behind him and wants to give Silva the reaction he wants as a distraction. She lets him force her mouth open, and as soon as the salt hits it, her throat is instantaneously parched and searing with pain. She coughs, sputtering, but it's worth it to see the knife connect with Silva's shoulder.

She cringes as Cas is knocked backwards, and then the salt takes full effect. She doubles over, choking and retching.]

[Castiel feels a distinct satisfaction as the knife sinks in, even if it isn't anywhere near as damaging as he'd intended. The kick is little surprise and neither is ending up on the ground, and if he had his voice he'd be snarling taunts and defiance.

As it is, all he can do was spit blood at Silva's shoes, eyes narrowed and all hints of his earlier fake submission gone. He's intending to draw Silva's attention to himself and give Meg a chance to recover.]

Edited 2013-12-08 19:29 (UTC)

[ He looks down at the blood on his shoes and gives a look of disgust.]

Oh I can take the interference in my affairs ... But a man who disrespects Armarni?

[He rolls Castiel onto his front and stands over him. The knife in his hand. Silva shoots him a look before plunging the knife deep into his shoulder. He didn't want to kill the man who... How would he be able to see his "friend" suffer otherwise?

He sighs before going over to the table again. This time to pick up an iron pipe.]

[Meg watches in horror as their captor stabs Castiel, a pained, strangled cry of Clarence escaping her involuntarily. She reaches out, desperately clawing, at Silva curling her fingers to no avail.

She looked up, desperately willing the devil's trap to break somehow, and fails to notice Silva coming at her with the pipe.]

[Castiel watches Silva as he rolls him over, putting up little fight despite how much he wants to; his body keeps alternating between responding and feeling like dead weight. The knife plunges into his shoulder and he gasps silently, curling his fingers against the floor of the warehouse, hearing Meg's voice and wanting to help but unable to move through the pain.]

[ "Clarence"? ... Well that was unexpected. Silva raises his eyebrows before chuckling to himself.

At least he's getting the reaction he wants ...anguish, heartbreak ... Maybe even regret?

He stands over megs body and begins to press the iron pipe against her throat. He looks her in the eye as it starts to burn.]

[She writhes desperately underneath the weight of the pipe and the burning sensation of the iron against her skin, her salt-caked throat silencing the scream that rips its way out of her voluntarily.

Her head is turned towards Cas, and a single treacherous tear trickles down her cheek as she watches the blood pooling beneath his injured shoulder. Another silent sob wracks her body as she struggles to push Silva off of her, kicking and twisting as hard as she can with her powers bound inside the trap.

She wants to scream at him to do whatever he wants to her, she can take it. To leave Cas alone, that he's no part of this. But she's not stupid. She knows he's there to add to her own misery. Guilt like she hasn't felt in centuries weighs on her heavier than the weight of the iron pipe crushing against her throat, and all that she manages is an indignant grunt.]

[Castiel's eyes are tightly shut as he tries to fight off lightheadedness and pain that seems to be coming from everywhere, gathering his will to try to figure out what to do. When he opens his eyes they catch Meg's, and the sight of the tear and Silva on top of her makes something twist in his chest, and suddenly he's moving again as his mind remembers its stronger than his body.

He reaches to grab the hilt of the knife still sticking out of his shoulder, pulling it out in one determined motion accompanied by the sound of metal scraping on bone. It's agonizing and his stomach lurches nauseatingly as he shoves himself up onto his knees, blood dripping onto the floor from the new wound as well as the old ones, but he ignores it all to throw the weapon as hard as he can manage at Silva. He's normally stronger, and his aim steadier, but even a glancing blow would be better than nothing.]

Edited 2013-12-08 22:05 (UTC)

[Silva stops for a moment as the knife lands just next to him. He laughs at the weak pathetic attempt to stop him.

He drops the pipe and turns to address Castiel.]

Why thank you so much ... I do appreciate the suggestion.

[ And on that note he plunges the knife into her right leg. He keeps it in and begins twisting ... Slowly.]

[Meg cringes as the knife sinks into her, wheezing through her dried-up, closed off airway. Her whole body tenses as he twists the knife. It's still nothing like the worst hell had to offer - just your basic stab wound, even with the little twist he threw in. She was just glad it was her and not Cas.

People did seem to come back if they died here, but James hadn't, and she couldn't help wondering if Silva had figured something out. Panic set in at the mere idea of being separated from Cas again, and she looked over at him pleadingly, silently begging him to run, to flee to get himself out of danger. She could play this game with Silva all day, but she couldn't handle the idea of losing him.]

[Well that was pathetic, and embarrassing, especially for someone that prides themselves on their skill with bladed weapons. He clenches his jaw, wishing he could speak so he could throw taunts and attempt to draw attention back to himself, but he can't do much other than catch Meg's gaze and give a tiny, almost imperceptible shake of his head.

He considers trying to grab the pipe, or go after Silva with his hands, but he's losing blood and blackness keeps threatening to invade his vision. His eyes flutter as he supports himself on his hands, but suddenly his mind clears again as he thinks of something, and he tilts his head upward.

The devil's trap. If he can break it, Meg will be entirely capable of overpowering Silva despite her injuries, and that would do them all a lot more good than just offering tiny distractions. It's too far for him to reach, but he has an idea, and with great effort he ignores Silva and Meg and just dips his fingers into the hole in his shoulder to dig out blood to gather in his palm.]

[ Silva takes the knife out and starts waving it about. He's deciding where to stick it next. He settles on slowly plunging it in her side.]

Tell me darling ... Are you starting to take me more seriously now?

[At his head shake, Meg's heart sinks. Of course not. Cas was more stubborn than anyone she'd ever met. She loved it and hated it about him - currently, she was hating it. She just wanted Cas safe. But something about the curious, determined look in his eye as he glanced up at the devil's trap warmed her heart a little. He always was clever like that.

She didn't know what he was thinking, but she knew she had to keep Silva's attention on her. She struggled and turned up the theatrics, letting her tears flow freely as the knife slid into her side. When he spoke, she looked frightened for a moment for him, playing into his game, giving him the pain he wanted to see.

When the knife was almost to the hilt, Meg moved quickly, maneuvering and taking hold of the knife. Her expression changed instantaneously to a delighted grin and she twisted the hilt herself, barely managing to whisper:]

I'll never take you seriously, you pompous douchebag.

[She spat salt in his face, glaring up at him defiantly.]

Edited 2013-12-09 00:26 (UTC)

[Meg provides distraction as Castiel gathers the blood he needs--he can't risk failing as he won't get a second try, so he needs as much blood as he can get--and tries to ignore her crying as he hopes it's an act. When she grabs the knife and taunts Silva, Castiel moves, lurching upright to his feet and flicking his wrist sharply, sending a spray of blood across one of the lines of the trap.

He knows from experience that even the small disruption is more than enough to break the hold, and a faint, almost hysterical smile tugs at the corner of his mouth before his strength finally gives out. His vision goes black and he collapses, unconscious, back to the floor, his last waking thought a hope that Meg will give Silva what he deserves.]

Edited 2013-12-09 00:27 (UTC)

[ A sour look shoots across his face before he punched her right... Oh he did not like that.]

Wrong answer.

Dear me you really should get your lady under control Mr Castiel.

[ He's still looking at Meg when he speaks ... Savoring her looks of anguish. Castiel isn't that interesting to him anymore.]

[He should have been paying attention to Cas, because as soon as the blood spatters across the lines of the devil's trap, Meg is free. She cringes inwardly when he passes out and hits the ground, but she's silently thanking him as she takes the punch in the face like it's nothing, smiling back and spitting blood in his general direction and pushing him backwards with her full strength.

She'd turn him inside out and show him his own insides some other time so he could learn what real torture was; right now she needed to get help for poor Castiel. Another pang of guilt ripped at her heartstrings, but her rage overtook it and she pulled herself up to her feet, pinning silva to the ground and choking off his airway with a clench of her fist.]

He [She nods sideways at Castiel's unconscious form as she circles Silva and tightens her fist, almost completely cutting off his trachea.] knows how to control me just fine. You, on the other hand [She laughs] just took a perfectly good truce and earned yourself one hell of an enemy.

[She releases his throat before stooping down and grabbing him by his shirt, dragging him up to her eye level. Her throat is still burning with the salt and her voice is strained, but she manages to get out what she wanted to say.]

You and me, we'll chat again sometime. And knowing Cas as well as I do, I'm guessing he might want in on it, too. You have no idea who you just tangled with, slick. Why don't you mull that over while you're running scared? [She lets out a delighted, hoarse giggle.] Tell ya what? I'll even give you a head start.

[With that, she sends him flying, slamming him against the wall. Trust, she wishes she could just post up and give him a day in the life on the rack, but that would have to wait for now.

She turns on her heel and rushes to Castiel's side, kneeling down and cupping his face with her hands. She pats his cheek lightly, trying to get him to come to, all the while murmuring in a low, strained tone.]

Come on, Cas. We gotta get you up and get you some help. [Tears well up in her eyes again, completely genuine this time. She hastily swipes at them with her coat sleeve before leaning down and pressing a light kiss to his temple and whispering,]

I am so sorry you got dragged into this.

[Castiel is completely unaware of Meg and Silva, unmoving until Meg begins trying to awaken him, and again it's the sound of her voice that draws him back to consciousness. His eyes are hazy and dull but they do focus on Meg after she pulls back from kissing him on the temple, though he can't manage much more response than moving his uninjured arm so that he can brush his fingers against her knee.

The communication is silent and limited, but still clear enough; he's okay, worry about making sure Silva isn't going to come at them again and that Meg herself is alright to be up.]

(no subject)

hasmommyissues - 2013-12-09 14:41 (UTC) - Expand

Fin.

putuporshutup - 2013-12-11 01:42 (UTC) - Expand