[ He's in no rush to finish this, feeling almost serene underneath the moon's glow in the middle of a cemetery. About the only thing he'd like to do at the moment is continue to bask in the feeling of her entrapped power. It's like the first burst of spring air after a long, cold winter.
Michael may be many things- deceit incarnate, the conniving voice nestled at the back of a mind, the whisper of doubt- but he isn't heartless. Striking someone while they're turned is cowardice. When he eliminates them, it will be as he's watching the light leave their eyes and he will accept no substitute. ]
You would be surprised at what a simple 'Hail Satan' will get you.
[ She gets to her feet with practiced grace, and he does have to admit she's quite pretty for a witch. Looks aren't as much of a saving grace as mortals are lead to believe. Her power, though? That's a temptation.
He laughs, high and light, waving off her question with a flourish of his hand as he gets to his feet. His strides are confident, and his back straightens as he closes a bit of the distance between them. Out of arm's reach for the moment, but he didn't need to be in her immediate vicinity in order to do her catastrophic harm. Michael clasps his arms behind his back, digits drumming against his elbow. ]
Rest assured, the plan continues to be your coven's destruction... But I find my concentration arrested.
[ His lack of urgency should be more alarming than it is, but like all great villains in the millions of books and movies... He wasn't in a rush towards his victory. Her lips draw into a tight line, determination radiating off of her as she squares her shoulders and swallows down her fear. She could do this. Cordelia had faith in her, saw something she didn't see in herself. Something she didn't even understand. ]
We'll see about the destruction part of your plans.
[ The smartest thing Mallory could do is shut up and leave. But, she isn't sure he'll let her go, effectively cornered in the cemetery in her current position. She should let him continue to believe the witches were too weak to handle taking him on. Watching him for a moment, she tries to keep as neutral and uninterested of an expression as possible. ]
Cemeteries can be pretty distracting. You should really work on that.
[ She doesn't even think he's speaking about her. And she doesn't like that he seems to be slowly closing in. ] As lovely as this has been-- [ much sarcasm, very wow ] -- I should really get going.
[ His eyes never leave her, committing each minute detail into memory- the way pollen has clung to the velvety fabric about her shoulders, the distinct shades of brown and flaxen copper woven into her long hair. She's quite petite so close, and she has a scent clinging to her that is both familiar and unknown. There's the same smell of incense that all witches seem to carry with them with their incessant purifying and cleansing. It stinks of frankincense and sage, but there is a floral note- some sort of perfume. Dainty and feminine.
Michael circles her as best he can while maintaining the distance that edges so much closer. Predatory, in any case. He offers a hum, a placating smile on his face. ]
It's inevitable, you know. Everything has to end eventually, even you have to see that.
[ Perhaps she doesn't, he thinks idly. How could she, when every fiber of her being is its own sunbeam? He cants his head to the side, expression one of curiosity. ]
Afraid of the dark, little songbird?
[ Like an unbidden temptation, he reaches out, fingers brushing against the edges of a stray tendril of her hair. ]
[ Baby’s breath and roses. A gift from Misty. She’d mentioned something about their protective capabilities and Mallory had needed all the help she could get for her solo mission. For some reason, she believes looking at him might give him more power. But, she knew that was foolish. So, stops moving -- trying to watch him and stand her ground. She wasn’t prey and she wasn’t going to be hunted or toyed with like some appetizer. ]
Just because I can see it doesn’t mean I have to accept it and just roll over so you can bulldoze your way through this world. The end may have to come, but I can change how we all get there.
[ The bravado cracks with the question, fracturing even more with the brush of his fingers. It feels like… It feels… like a jolt of energy between them. Like something inside of her just woke up. Unexpected and startling. Enough to snap her out of it and jump back -- away from him. ]
Don’t touch me.
[ What the fuck just happened? Part of her wants to stay to find out more, but the other part of her thinks that might be a trap. She was already in the lion's den and she was over being the mouse. ]
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Michael may be many things- deceit incarnate, the conniving voice nestled at the back of a mind, the whisper of doubt- but he isn't heartless. Striking someone while they're turned is cowardice. When he eliminates them, it will be as he's watching the light leave their eyes and he will accept no substitute. ]
You would be surprised at what a simple 'Hail Satan' will get you.
[ She gets to her feet with practiced grace, and he does have to admit she's quite pretty for a witch. Looks aren't as much of a saving grace as mortals are lead to believe. Her power, though? That's a temptation.
He laughs, high and light, waving off her question with a flourish of his hand as he gets to his feet. His strides are confident, and his back straightens as he closes a bit of the distance between them. Out of arm's reach for the moment, but he didn't need to be in her immediate vicinity in order to do her catastrophic harm. Michael clasps his arms behind his back, digits drumming against his elbow. ]
Rest assured, the plan continues to be your coven's destruction... But I find my concentration arrested.
/shows up 8000 years later than planned
We'll see about the destruction part of your plans.
[ The smartest thing Mallory could do is shut up and leave. But, she isn't sure he'll let her go, effectively cornered in the cemetery in her current position. She should let him continue to believe the witches were too weak to handle taking him on. Watching him for a moment, she tries to keep as neutral and uninterested of an expression as possible. ]
Cemeteries can be pretty distracting. You should really work on that.
[ She doesn't even think he's speaking about her. And she doesn't like that he seems to be slowly closing in. ] As lovely as this has been-- [ much sarcasm, very wow ] -- I should really get going.
that's quarantine baby, also same hat
Michael circles her as best he can while maintaining the distance that edges so much closer. Predatory, in any case. He offers a hum, a placating smile on his face. ]
It's inevitable, you know. Everything has to end eventually, even you have to see that.
[ Perhaps she doesn't, he thinks idly. How could she, when every fiber of her being is its own sunbeam? He cants his head to the side, expression one of curiosity. ]
Afraid of the dark, little songbird?
[ Like an unbidden temptation, he reaches out, fingers brushing against the edges of a stray tendril of her hair. ]
♥
Just because I can see it doesn’t mean I have to accept it and just roll over so you can bulldoze your way through this world. The end may have to come, but I can change how we all get there.
[ The bravado cracks with the question, fracturing even more with the brush of his fingers. It feels like… It feels… like a jolt of energy between them. Like something inside of her just woke up. Unexpected and startling. Enough to snap her out of it and jump back -- away from him. ]
Don’t touch me.
[ What the fuck just happened? Part of her wants to stay to find out more, but the other part of her thinks that might be a trap. She was already in the lion's den and she was over being the mouse. ]