mayfield_rpg | send you roses when they think you need to smile

Entry tags:

c: dist the reaper

send you roses when they think you need to smile

[backdated to monday evening, closed to inhabitants of 726 Anderson]

[It sure is convenient when you don't lock your doors. With his thinking suppressed, Dist doesn't really have the ability to do any breaking and entering. He also doesn't have enough reasoning to realize that no one would be home until the evening, what with two of his targets being children and one being a schoolteacher. He'd shown up in the early afternoon and thusly spent his time looking through all of the rooms in the house, one by one, over and over, seemingly forgetting where he's already looked.

Guys, there's a zombie in your house.]

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[As Dist moves from room to room, he'll inevitably pass the stairway leading up to the second floor. And when he does so, he'll find a boy standing there on the middle step, watching him in silence.]

[It takes him a moment to even notice there's someone standing there, just because he doesn't have that kind of awareness right now. When he does see him, though, he pauses, tilting his head and staring blankly.]

[Slugger stares back. His face is obscured by deep shadows beneath his baseball cap but even from where Dist stands, an eerie glint is still visible in his eyes. Slowly, he slides his bat off of one shoulder and holds it at his side.

Of course, he recognizes Dist the Rose as the man who once attended Edward's Legion meetings. He hadn't felt one way or the other about Dist; he'd certainly never thought about killing him before.

Raising his chin, Slugger nods as if in greeting.]

Looking for someone?

[Dist can't answer him. He doesn't have the words.]

Pray.

...

Pray?

For death.

[Long pause.]

Which one?

[Dist... Dist isn't prepared to answer this question. He wasn't provided any answers to it, and he certainly can't come up with one on his own. Instead, he cants his head the other way, finally showing some twinge of actual emotion -- complete befuddlement.]

[He's wearing a similar look of confusion. Why would someone need to pray for Death? Had Dist even met Death before? Maybe Dist meant something else with this message. Slugger is certain of only two things, that Dist wasn't conducting himself in his usual manner and that his presence was inciting a very specific urge that was becoming difficult to ignore.

In a blink, he no longer occupies the step and is now standing before Dist at the base of the stairs. The bat remains at his side.]

Why should I pray for death?

[Dist stumbles back , less out of surprise and more out of that imbedded survival instinct. He still doesn't say anything new, and his expression doesn't waver from the blank slate it's been since he showed up. He simply can't explain himself, so instead he repeats himself.]

Pray for death.

[...Perhaps Edward should hear this. Unable to decide what it means himself, Slugger steps aside to allow Dist access to the stairs.]

Edward's up there.

[...Oh. That's convenient. It doesn't even require any thought or concentration on his part; he can just go on up the stairs. It's the closest he's come to making a decision in days.]

[Slugger's gaze follows their "guest" with keen, fox-like eyes as he ascends the steps.

Whenever Dist should find his way back downstairs, the front door will be wide open as though to facilitate his departure and quietly bid him farewell. Slugger is nowhere to be seen.]

[Oh, excellent. He can just wander back out, then; Susan has a hell of a command voice.]

[But as Dist vacates the house and yard, a distant sound of skates will trail after him, following him wherever it is he intends to go like an audible shadow.]

[Honestly, Dist doesn't have anywhere to go. His objective has been completed; all there is to do not is to wait for more orders. That, and to continue clawing at the red fog suppressing his thinking.

His implanted survival instinct does prompt him to take a survey of the street when the noise gets particularly loud, but it's with dull eyes.]

[After some aimless wandering, it doesn't take Slugger long to realize that Dist has no destination in mind. Presently, it doesn't appear as if anyone else is around to witness what he's about to do next so Slugger decides to move in.

Leaning forward, he accelerates quickly toward his target from behind. He doesn't know what's happening inside Dist's head; he can only sense that the man is trapped and struggling hopelessly to escape.

Bat raised, Slugger takes aim for Dist's head and swings.]

[Obviously the skating noise gets loud enough to prompt Dist to look again, and the bat crashes across the side of his face. It's enough to knock him off his feet, bleeding from the mouth and possibly swallowing a tooth in the process. There's a moment, though, when his instincts kick over - a moment of clarity, a moment where he's himself again, like back at the house with Luke. Obviously, this time he's in searing pain, but it's enough to cause anguish when he's drowned out again.

Now that Dist is in immediate physical danger, everything else takes a backseat to eliminating the threat. He doesn't even seem to notice that he likely has more than one broken bone in his face; he moves from a heap in the road to a crouch, leaping at Slugger almost like an animal. He throws his shoulder into it, aiming to tackle the boy to the ground. Dist doesn't have a weapon. He needs to get that bat.]

[Slugger, too, senses that fleeting moment of clarity and turns around in time to see Dist lunge forward. And though he's suddenly knocked flat on his back on the ground, there's a wild look of excitement in his yellow-green eyes. He'd expected that last blow to take Dist out, but this... thing... was not the Dist he recognized. His job was still unfinished.

When Slugger relinquishes his bat in surprise, it looks as if he's been overcome. But then a second swing is aimed at the side of Dist's head -- a second swing from a second bat in the hand of a second boy identical to the first in every way, right down to the wicked grin on his face.]

[Well, Dist literally didn't see that one coming. The second blow hits him square in the temple, and while he doesn't immediately fall, the damage he's sustained is obvious. His motor skills are diminishing; he can't think enough to go into shock or give up, but a body can only function so well with a damaged brain.

He lashes out blindly with the bat, this time at the doppelganger. It's the threat, after all - at least, as far as he knows. It's a weak swing, though, and he's clearly stumbling, going through the motions only as well as he's physically able to.]

[The weakened swing is easily avoided and the other Slugger merely steps aside. Dist was clearly at the end of his rope and soon his long, hard struggle would come to end. To hasten that end, Slugger raises his bat a third time to deliver a calculated, bone-crushing swing straight down upon the dying man's skull.

Go, now. Be free.]

[Luke was busy getting a snack from the kitchen when he spots Dist. He vaguely recognizes him from when they were all stuffed in the bunker together, but other then that he's not sure what this guy is doing in their house.]

...Hello?

[If Luke studies Dist's face, he'll find it devoid of any kind of expression. Even his pupils are dilated and empty. He does focus them when he sees the boy, though.]

Pray for death.

[The statement is dead, lifeless. Programmed.]

[...Okay wow that's kind of creepy.]

I think you ought to leave.

[...Wait, Dist hasn't been programmed to handle commands from other people. He certainly can't follow them, and trying to work it out is causing the red mist to envelop him again. His expression changes just a little bit; he's trying to claw his way out of the fog, but it's just not working.]

...Death. Pray.

[Because he has to say something.]

[Luke backs up a little, glancing at the counter to see what he could use as a makeshift weapon in case Dist tries to attack him. He keeps his voice as calm as he can though.]

I don't know what you're doing here, but if you're here to hurt the people in this house, you might as well stop now.

[Dist's eyes immediately follow Luke's -- unlike his confrontation with Klaus, this time he's been programmed to respond to attempts on his life. It was a safety measure put in by the Doctor to ensure he wouldn't have to keep restringing his puppet every time someone killed him.

With the tension comes a surge of adrenaline and a moment of clarity. Dist, the real one, snatches at the chance.]

Not me--

[And there was the fog again, smothering him and trapping his mind back underneath the mist. The defense is still there; it was the change in state that had caused the faltering.]

Not you?

[Luke reaches out for something - a frying pan, nothing sharp and lethal thankfully - before cautiously approaching.]

Who are you?

[Dist steps back; more accurately, he rotates around slightly on one foot, and though he registers that the boy has a bludgeon he doesn't register an actual threat, or at least not enough of one to set him off.

He can't say anything. He doesn't have words to say. He can reach out to touch the pan, though, running his fingers along its edge. Not communication, but close.]

[Edward's in the study upstairs, poring over something or other before he hears someone wander into the room. He almost expects it to be Luke or Slugger, and he swirls around in his chair, addressing Dist as if he were one of the boys.]

Sorry to disappoint, but I'm busy at the mo---

[Oh. Oh, it's Dist. And he's looking a little funny there.]

Dist?

[Funny is one word for it. Lifeless is another. Thoughtless would be the most accurate. Dilated pupils, blank expression... it's not even like he's droned. Drones at least portray emotion.

Edward wasn't supposed to be here. It wasn't meant for him. But, well, here they are.]

Pray for death.

What...?

[That's kind of ominous. Cautiously, Edward rises from his seat, staring Dist down as evenly as he can manage.]

What are you talking about?

[Ominous, yes. Again, Dist can't truly answer; he's limited to staring blankly and standing in the doorway. Sorry, Eddie.]

[He reaches for his cane, not taking an eye off Dist even for a second, before moving a step closer. Something's wrong.]

Talk to me.

Pray for death.

[Sorry, that's all you get.]

That much I understood.

[Edward's frowning now. This really isn't good.]

Who put you up to this?

[Dist's eyes refocus on the cane, though he doesn't show any actual emotion in the interim. This time, he doesn't say a word.]

I asked you a question, Dist. Who put you up to this?

[Who indeed?

Schuldig? No. Though he's demonstrated the ability to mentally manipulate others, he's still Edward's ally; there's no reason for him to do so.

Crane? Maybe. But his toxin usually leaves his victims a bit more coherent than that.

Or could it be...?]

The Major?

[Think, Edward. Do you really think Dist can answer a question right now? He's barely responding to stimuli; he's more robot than person, appropriately enough. Who would have both the means and the motive to put him this way?]

[Whatever's going on, Edward can at least understand that Dist doesn't seem to be in any sort of control of his actions. It almost harkens back to a blurb in the Book of Villains Slugger had begun putting together months ago. Who in there can claim to "control the insane...?"

Edward's eyes narrow.]

Leave him out of this. If you're listening to me---and I'm certain that you are---let him go. Now.

[Nothing. You're talking to a shell, Edward; it doesn't actually matter what Dist sees or hears. Only that he goes and does what he's told to. Dist might remember this later, but the Doctor won't ever hear it.]

[The schoolteacher is home late-afternoon. It isn't hard to tell that there's someone in the house - soul sensing notwithstanding, someone had tracked dirt all over the perfectly immaculate floor.

Susan appears next to Dist with a baleful expression.]

Out.

[Have a blank, dead stare in return, Susan. Shocking he still has enough of a soul to register, really.]

Pray for death.

[He's a much cleaner houseguest when he's himself.]

He can pray for himself.

Out.

[They had just talked on the phone a week or two ago, of course. Susan can recognize that 'pray for death' is not something that would normally come from those lips.]

[Susan's tone is getting more aggressive, and it's starting to tap on the violence trigger the Doctor had installed. His eyes suddenly focus, taking inventory of grabbable things in the room, though his expression doesn't change. It's like his eyes are disconnected from the rest of his face, almost.]

[Susan is keen enough to notice the change, though she naturally has no idea what he's thinking. She continues to maintain her ground.]

One last time.

Out.

You've brought your message; there's nothing more to say.

[So damn forceful. So much so that his programming even kicks in and he turns and heads for the door, without another word.]

[Well, that was just bizarre. Susan stares after him long after he's gone, the expression on her face betraying nothing but irritation.

.....Perhaps it was time to have another talk about the Major.]

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send you roses when they think you need to smile

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