Meg Masters (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
putuporshutup) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
paradisa2014-02-02 09:16 pm
putuporshutup) wrote in paradisa2014-02-02 09:16 pm
Entry tags:
Ninth Temptation ♆ [Action/Dictated; OTA; Backdated to Feb 1st]
[ Meg sits up suddenly, gasping for breath - only to double over in pain again, crying out, clutching at the rapidly bleeding stab wound in her lower abdomen. That stings like hell, don't get her wrong, but the onslaught of memories is worse. This again? Seriously? Torture. Pain. Sacrifice. Feelings??? WHY?!
And hold up just one damn minute.
...Death?! That was so not what she signed up for when she jumped on the 'team free will' bandwagon again. Sorry, but there had to be some mistake. The universe must have her mixed up with some other demon with a death wish? Why had she--
Oh. Right.
Crowley.
How, again, though?
Oh. Right. The gaping stab wound that was seeping crimson all over her and her -- wait, hospital bed? Fat chance, now that she was re-living the all-too-vivid vision of his highness gutting her with an angel blade. No way she survived that, and no way was this...? Yeah, no. She already had an afterlife. Soooo this would be...?
Another barrage of memories - some happy, some violent, some devastatingly sad - hits her like a freight train, and it occurs to her again how much she feels... Paradisa. Again. It seems like it's been so long, and yet...
Seriously? This has got to be a cosmic fucking joke. She did NOT just, somehow, die twice. Not when she had so much to lose... wait, what, though? Since when did she have anything to lose?
Suddenly, it's all clear again. Too clear. The kind of clarity that only comes from a level of rage that she hasn't felt since... Florence? No... more recently than that...
Silva. Tex.
The lights in the infirmary flicker, the bulb in a nearby lamp shattering and sending sparks flying in different directions along with broken glass. Well, that's new. Meg cradles her head in her hands - it's all too much. Speaking of cosmic jokes. And then...
Oh. Oh.
She scrambles for her journal, and sure enough, it's resting within arms reach on a side table. The demon winces in pain as she hastily grabs it and hoists herself out of bed, clutching the gaping wound and dripping blood as she makes a pathetic, limping attempt for the door. With her free hand, she flips open the journal, stifles a groan, and doesn't even think about privacy before calling out for the only help she wants. ]
Cas! Please tell me you're still here...
[ Her voice is a desperate plea; her tone terrified - and yet she can't quite bring herself to feel humiliated by that at the moment. If she's stuck here without him...
No. The universe couldn't possibly be that cruel...
On second thought, she's not gonna hold her breath.
Meg stumbles towards the door of the infirmary, realizing too late, as she falls to the floor, that it was a mistake to try to get out of bed. As she falls, she vaguely recognizes the bandages on her wrists as she throws out her arms to catch herself, and a flood of emotion washes over her. Tears well up in her eyes as she recalls a memory that she hadn't shared with Cas before. A brief reunion. One he had described to her... it had sounded so sweet at the time...
He was there. Had he known? Had he kept this from her? How could he have...
And where had he been when she needed him?
The sob that escapes her is interrupted by an indignant huff as she tries to push herself up and a chunk of matted, bloody, blonde hair falls in her face, and that's it for her. She slumps down, lying dejectedly on the cold floor, tears mingling with blood and streaming down her face.
Fucking perfect. ]
And hold up just one damn minute.
...Death?! That was so not what she signed up for when she jumped on the 'team free will' bandwagon again. Sorry, but there had to be some mistake. The universe must have her mixed up with some other demon with a death wish? Why had she--
Oh. Right.
Crowley.
How, again, though?
Oh. Right. The gaping stab wound that was seeping crimson all over her and her -- wait, hospital bed? Fat chance, now that she was re-living the all-too-vivid vision of his highness gutting her with an angel blade. No way she survived that, and no way was this...? Yeah, no. She already had an afterlife. Soooo this would be...?
Another barrage of memories - some happy, some violent, some devastatingly sad - hits her like a freight train, and it occurs to her again how much she feels... Paradisa. Again. It seems like it's been so long, and yet...
Seriously? This has got to be a cosmic fucking joke. She did NOT just, somehow, die twice. Not when she had so much to lose... wait, what, though? Since when did she have anything to lose?
Suddenly, it's all clear again. Too clear. The kind of clarity that only comes from a level of rage that she hasn't felt since... Florence? No... more recently than that...
Silva. Tex.
The lights in the infirmary flicker, the bulb in a nearby lamp shattering and sending sparks flying in different directions along with broken glass. Well, that's new. Meg cradles her head in her hands - it's all too much. Speaking of cosmic jokes. And then...
Oh. Oh.
She scrambles for her journal, and sure enough, it's resting within arms reach on a side table. The demon winces in pain as she hastily grabs it and hoists herself out of bed, clutching the gaping wound and dripping blood as she makes a pathetic, limping attempt for the door. With her free hand, she flips open the journal, stifles a groan, and doesn't even think about privacy before calling out for the only help she wants. ]
Cas! Please tell me you're still here...
[ Her voice is a desperate plea; her tone terrified - and yet she can't quite bring herself to feel humiliated by that at the moment. If she's stuck here without him...
No. The universe couldn't possibly be that cruel...
On second thought, she's not gonna hold her breath.
Meg stumbles towards the door of the infirmary, realizing too late, as she falls to the floor, that it was a mistake to try to get out of bed. As she falls, she vaguely recognizes the bandages on her wrists as she throws out her arms to catch herself, and a flood of emotion washes over her. Tears well up in her eyes as she recalls a memory that she hadn't shared with Cas before. A brief reunion. One he had described to her... it had sounded so sweet at the time...
He was there. Had he known? Had he kept this from her? How could he have...
And where had he been when she needed him?
The sob that escapes her is interrupted by an indignant huff as she tries to push herself up and a chunk of matted, bloody, blonde hair falls in her face, and that's it for her. She slumps down, lying dejectedly on the cold floor, tears mingling with blood and streaming down her face.
Fucking perfect. ]
no subject
Shit, wait. They actually locked you up?
That's rich.
no subject
I have to help her!
no subject
Yeah, I'll get right on that.
no subject
Please, you have to help me, I have to get him out of her head!
no subject
[There's a pause, and she considers her options here, but the fuck if she isn't feeling spiteful.]
Give me one good reason why I should help that bitch after what she did.
no subject
So fuck it, don't do it for her... do it for me. You know I didn't kill you.
[a pause]
Besides, if we don't stop Omega ... who knows what they'll do next? He's completely fuckin' psychotic.
no subject
Anyway, I'm really not seeing how any of this is my problem. Best of luck, though.
no subject
I'm not going to rot in here because you're too fucking self absorbed to give a shit!
no subject
Do me a favor and go fuck yourself, Church.
no subject
Look, getting killed sucks but I know Tex and even with Omega she doesn't just kill people for no reason. [Granted it could be a very slim reason, but details.] So, like I said... I don't know what you did and I don't really give a shit but I wouldn't be in here if it wasn't for you.
Just three damn words out of your mouth and I'm a free man again. That makes the fact that I'm still here your fault.
[He's been trapped in a tiny cell for two weeks, cut him some slack he's starting to go a bit stir crazy. It's even worse now that he knows Omega is out there, now he's starting to feel desperate.]
no subject
[Have a journal slamming shut, Church. She's not dealing with you right now.
But yeah, she'll let people know you're innocent. In a day or two. Because you're a dick.]