paradisa

[ Guess who is taking advantage of the fact that the majority of you will be off celebrating at the Halloween ball to make another personal statement?

That's right...this guy.

Whilst everybody is at the Halloween Ball Silva is using this time to sneak up to M's room to pay her a visit and offer his condolences in a totally sincere way. With a little rose in his hand he approachs the door only to find the nameplate gone....]

No!

[He lets out a frustrated snarl...what was the point of that little excercise of his if she wasn't there to see the result?

Sighing, he re-adjusts his suit and leaves the rose at her door anyway. So that was it then...another chance at vengence was gone. He was stuck here until Paradisa had the good graces to send him back. Not really much point in spending the rest of his time dodging what was waiting for him.

He makes his way to his room, pours himself a malt whiskey before sticking on "La Mer" by Charles Trenet on his Ipod. ]

So it seems the one you all call "Emma" has gone home....how very sad.

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[Sure enough, Meg is at the party, but she is most certainly still paying attention to the journals.

If he knows Emma has moved on from this world, there is only one place he could be.

She hurries there, sneaking up carefully on the door and with a wave of her hand, it bursts dramatically inward... on a completely empty room. She steps in and looks around, concluding that she has indeed missed him.

No matter. She will simply start her systematic search again, with the knowledge that he is somewhere in the castle.

As quietly and swiftly as her bothersome stilettos allow, she makes her way back to his own room. As she approaches, she hears a familiar tune filtering through the door.

Again, the door bursts inward dramatically, sending a crack up the wall where it collides. She strides in purposefully and addresses her query at last. Her tone is flat, her voice as intimidating as she can muster.]

Silva.

Well, at least she's safe from you.

[Comes the crisp, apathetic letters of the Huntress.]

[Silva keeps staring at his glass. Her dramatic entrance not even getting so much as a raised eyebrow. He is too lost in his own madness to care.]

Took you long enough...

[Sniggering]

You'd think so wouldn't you?

As long as you're here ...

[Comes the same, apathetic voice.]

And how long do you think that will be hmmm? A day, a week?

Soon enough I will be back on those moors and finishing what I started.

[Provided he actually survived the helicopter crash, he thinks to himself.]

Edited 2013-11-01 12:26 (UTC)

Doesn't matter. I've seen you on your knees, Silva. You're not strong enough to kill her. You had to use a tea kettle to kill James, you couldn't even do it face to face.

[Now she speaks, and her voice is all contempt.]

You'll be dead before they are.

I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about...but it sounds nasty.

I hope he kept the warranty.

[Listen to that voice Katniss...can't you feel his insincerity?]

Edited 2013-11-01 13:48 (UTC)

Is that irony in your voice or am I mistaken?

[She regards him coolly. Normally, that would have earned him a hot headed and likely very physical response, but she's not quite herself at the moment, as it were.]

No matter. I am here now... and you have some explaining to do.

Explaining?

[He allows himself a chuckle before finishing his drink]

I'm not sure what you mean darling?

Maybe...I can't say there aren't aspects of her personality I'm not going to miss.

Edited 2013-11-01 15:18 (UTC)

[She bristles and glares icily at him. She's been called that before, and has good reason not to like it.]

About James.

Ah James...dear sweet alcohol dependant James.

[He shakes his head almost mockingly.]

That was such a terrible accident was it not?

[Her glare intensifies. Even angels have their breaking points, after all. He might feel his throat tightening uncomfortably, as though he were choking on his own false tongue. She advances a few steps on him.]

You and I both know that was no accident.

[Theres an uncomfortable feeling alright but he continues with a look of steely defiance. Demon or no demon he's learnt to accept physical and mental torture as just another part of his life.]

You...think because James winds up dead it is automatically my fault?

And you base this on what?

[Ironically, penchant for torture is one of the few things that hasn't changed much with Meg's current angelic affliction, and she's just warming up.]

You can speak to the others about reasoning. I care not for wasting time debating motives.

Ah you are...in this for the brutality.

I can see why mother must have liked you...

I hope you like grapes.

No but I do like a good grape based wine...if you're offering to pop by later.

[Her brow flicks up at the mention of 'mother' and it doesn't take much to figure out who he means, but she's not going to bite, not when she's this close to accomplishing her task.]

Enough. Let's go.

[Silva gathers himself...this one was very impetuous in nature wasn't she?. He takes a deep breath before continuing.]

Of course...but one more thing.

[He takes his revolver and proceeds to shoot her twice in the chest.]

You forgot to say please.

[The force of the bullets knocks her off balance a bit, and the ringing in her ears gives way to the distant sound of a the last chimes of a clock striking midnight.

She's dazed for a moment as she comes back to herself, gasping for breath that soon gives way to maniacal laughter. She's going to get so much shit for the whole angel thing, she just knows it.

She looks down. The blood streaming down the front of the pristine white ballgown is a nice touch. Comical, even, but not nearly as amusing as the fact that he thought bullets would actually do anything but piss her off.]

So we're gonna do this the hard way, huh? [She shrugs nonchalantly and her eyes gleam black. An otherwise dainty looking hand comes up and curls into a fist, knotting his insides in a way that will likely send him to the ground coughing up blood.]

[Well that was unexpected...he lets out a frustrated sigh at her reluctance to go down

He was about to get out the words "Well you can't blame a guy for trying" but unseen forces drag him on his knees. He also appears to be coughing up a lot of blood.]

Edited 2013-11-01 16:37 (UTC)

[She walks over to him and nudges his shoulder with one silvery white stiletto, rolling him onto his back. She stands there with her arms crossed, glaring down with the distinct hint of amusement she always wore to taunt her subjects as she worked them over.]

Let's try this again, shall we? Get up.

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