Heather Mason (
foolishwren) wrote2012-05-26 12:51 am
Entry tags:
94. FOURTH WALL
[If anyone stops to check their 'Gear in the midst of all the chaos unfolding, they will find an extremely odd text message originating from the 'Gear of Heather Mason.]
[Or more accurately, it's the image attachment that's odd.]

[Apparently, some nurses have stolen Heather's PokeGear and are using it to take Myspace pictures.]
[Wellp.]
[ooc: Feel free to tag in with any scenario or character you want, it doesn't necessarily have to involve the text message, the nurses, or their godawful duckfaces! GO WILD, just let me know where you want the thread to take place!]
[Or more accurately, it's the image attachment that's odd.]

[Apparently, some nurses have stolen Heather's PokeGear and are using it to take Myspace pictures.]
[Wellp.]
[ooc: Feel free to tag in with any scenario or character you want, it doesn't necessarily have to involve the text message, the nurses, or their godawful duckfaces! GO WILD, just let me know where you want the thread to take place!]

no subject
Pretty sure you wouldn't like my artistic style, mister.
no subject
[He tsks his tongue a little, nodding sympathetically.]
Perhaps you'd have more luck with still life. Well, for a time, at least. Rigor mortis works wonders at keeping a corpse in its pose, but its effects are only temporary.
no subject
[Heather clenches her fists.]
Who are you?
no subject
[He produces a wooden whistle about as long as his forearm and pipes a few whimsical notes on it.]
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. A name for a name. Unless you're afraid of yours?
no subject
[You can SEE the cogs in her head working to try and rationalize what the fuck this guy is doing, and not coming up with an explanation.]
[Then she seemingly gives up on it, shaking her head with a frustrated huff.]
I'm not afraid of a fucking name, thanks.
Just of handing it out to crazy people who randomly appeared in my bathroom.
[She's not sure if he just... MANIFESTED in here, or saw the hotel room door open and walked right in, or WHAT.]
no subject
[His voice is steadily dropping lower, turning thoughtful, like he's musing aloud to himself rather than actually addressing her.]
How many varied forms it takes. The squeaking mouse, the cornered fox. Little birds puff up their feathers when they feel threatened — it tricks the predator into thinking they're bigger than they are. What are you afraid of, that's ruffling your feathers so?
[He sweeps the flute in a gradual circle, an offhand motion centered in the wrist.]
Right now, aren't you thinking of killing me to make me disappear?
no subject
[Because... well, no, not specifically like THAT, but had the thought of possibly having to kill him crossed her mind? Yes. Yes, of course it had. It's a nasty little survival-oriented habit she'd picked up there, on account of things so often being kill-or-be-killed. She WAS cornered, and she was used to having to fight her way out of corners bloodily.]
[But she's not gonna SAY that, so all she comes out with is a flat, unconvincing]
No...
no subject
No? It's nothing to be ashamed of. On the contrary, it's a marvelous way of getting rid of pests. Did anyone ever tell you the quickest way to a man's heart?
[He taps lightly on his side for emphasis — his left side, between two ribs.]
Right there.
no subject
the first timewith fake smiles. Deceitful smiles. Shark smiles. She knows one when she sees one.]I don't kill things for being pests.
[But it's a little distracted. Why is he doing that? Is he THAT confident?]
Why the hell are you telling me this?
no subject
[His hand comes up again, this time tapping his temple lightly, and then gradually descends to point at her.]
But don't worry. Even a pawn might succeed in its dream of becoming a queen, if it makes it to the king's row.
[Because really, in the end, none of this was about Heather at all, now, was it?]
no subject
Do I look like the kind of person who cares about becoming a queen?
[Heather's no Twin Peaks pageant material.]
no subject
[He wags the whistle at her in mock reproach, then angles toward the door.]
The life of a pawn is kill or be killed. And that's what you are, and that's what you'll be, while the rest of the game takes place around you.
[He motions vaguely to the nurses.]
Go put that fear to good use, my dear, and do the only thing you're meant for.
no subject
[Here he was, telling her what to do, acting almost like he knew her, but she'd never SEEN him before. Who was he? How the hell was he so confident in his interpretation of her role?]
[She can't keep a tremble out of her voice, although she grits her teeth in the hope that it comes out as a tremble of anger rather than fear.]
First, tell me who you are.
no subject
My name is Windom Earle.
[Was there supposed to be fanfare, thunder, some ominous death knell at that? There isn't.]
no subject
[Heather Mason has always been capable of masking a certain amount of emotion, but hiding shock and surprise isn't really her forte. The way her jaw slackens a little and eyes widen probably gives her away. That she does know who he is. That the name is somehow familiar.]
[Because it is.]
[She's been warned about it.]
no subject
Well.
"What's in a name?" wrote the Bard. It seems this dear young lady has just come up with her own answer to that question.]
How quickly your feathers fail, little bird.
[His smile takes on a knife's edge.]
Fly, fly, over hill and over Dale.
no subject
[Cooper had done the same thing himself, on a couple of different occasions.]
[But the irony is no doubt lost on Heather. To her credit, the fear doesn't stay for long. The nurses forgotten, reaches out and snatches up the first weaponlike thing to come to mind-- looks like a nail file or something. It's sharp and that's all that matters to her.]
[Her voice shakes.]
Get. Out.
[Over Dale. Oh, god. That's on purpose. That has to be on purpose. He can probably see THAT on her face, too.]
Get out now.
no subject
If Cooper were here to see this, the exchange, the moment, he would know instantly that some horrific change had occurred in his former partner, that whatever has come over Windom Earle is more than just wrong; it's outright unnatural.
What a stupid little girl, played so easily like the notes of a fine fiddle. How utterly delightful to watch her come apart at the seams.
There's no reason to stay. His goal here was achieved long ago.]
Tell him I'm not concerned with pawns.
[As bidden, he goes to the door, seemingly indifferent to the fact that she's threatening him at all. But upon reaching it, he pauses for a final remark.]
But there's always the chance that a pawn might become a queen.
[And then he's gone.]
no subject
[Heather just... STANDS there for a moment, trying to process what the hell just happened. The nurses obliviously fuss on in the background.]
I-- ... yeah you... you'd BETTER go!
Fuck you!
... And if I see you again, I'll kill you!
[BECAUSE YELLING AT NOTHING MAKES THINGS BETTER OKAY.]