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Siege Perilous Day 10 - Amanda takes her prize back to the Hellfire Club and her Queen. But Remy isn’t beaten yet.

TW: blood and character death




Amanda was glad that Selene was present when she brought her prisoner before the Inner Circle. To capture the man who had been such a thorn in their sides, the man who had come closer than any to killing the Black Queen years ago... The witch couldn't help the smirk on her face as she made her bow to the Black King and Queen and the silent White Queen, Remy trailing behind her in a shielding bubble, the only way she could be positive of keeping him from escaping or using his powers. And to think she'd been about to kill him!

"Betrayal. Such a shameful thing and yet, so wonderfully useful. I'd hazard that old age has made you uncharacteristically trusting, M. LeBeau. I wouldn't have dreamed such a ploy would have worked in the past." Selene cooed at the prisoner. She had a particular hatred of the man, ever since their last encounter cost her three fingers from her left hand; a disfigurement that she found herself unable to fix despite all her magical ability.

"Desperation, I think." Shaw leaned forward, rubbing his chin. "Their little band is running out of operators, allies and resources quickly these days. Thought a hail mary might work?"

On the other hand, Remy looked as relaxed as if he was waiting in line for a drink. He gave them a lazy shrug. "Can't say dat it was my best plan, but dere's a long way to defeat left."

"I wouldn't get too cocky, swamp rat," Amanda chimed in, taking her cue from her Queen. "Maximoff and Romanoff are both dead and we have the Rasputin girl. Looks like you're royally fucked."

Remy's infuriating sly smile didn't waver. "You trying to reassure me or youself dat I lost?" He sighed. "So, what next? Torture? Some kind of magic ritual. Dinner and a movie." Remy winked at Emma as he said it.

"Oh, as much as I'd enjoy pulling your scabby lifeforce out bit by bit, watching my coven take you apart slowly and painfully, we are on a bit of a schedule here. Shaw, darling..."

"Of course. Emma, crack his mind open. We need to see just how much they might know of our plans."

Emma raised her head, her eyes as vacant as ever. She reached out with her mind and winced as she touched Remy’s; it was odd and frenetic and skittered against telepathic probes like cockroach feet on kitchen floors in the dark. But her powers were as formidable as ever, though leashed and directed, carefully supervised, and she reached past the almost-pain and into his thoughts. Her probes lanced through the static more easily as she got used to the feel of it.

Inside his head was a twisted carnival of remains between two minds fighting for dominance. While Remy had long ago conquered his psychotic alter-ego, his mark remained in the mindscape. Almost comically, there was a fun house version of the mansion, altered windows brightly lit, encouraging her to enter.

Emma tilted her head as she looked at the altered mansion; the Emma that had been would have thought long and hard about entering it, probably taken time to test for booby traps and set traps of her own to ensure she could safely venture into the twisted mirror-world she could almost see through the windows, shadows of gleeful malevolence hinted at. The Emma that was now had been made absolutely obedient to Shaw’s will. He had asked her to crack open Remy’s mind and crack it open she would. He had not told her to take precautions at what might be in that mind, and so she took no precautions.

Her power was still diamond-bright and sharp and it lanced through the front door of the Mansion and sliced it open, walls and roof opening up in front of the scalpel of her mind, letting out what had been in there.

Letting Gambit out.

Gambit rampaged across the minds of the Court. In an instant, they were frozen as the malevolence that Remy had once been; a villain so complete as to make most of their own crimes look petty, took ownership inside their heads for a split second. Only Selene was immune, almost curious to see just who Gambit really had been. The Court reeled in the graphic memories of violence, rape and degenerate torture, all underscored by the enjoyment and ingenuity for pain and torment by the entity.

Amanda shuddered, bile at the back of her throat. She'd seen, experienced and been the cause of much pain and degradation in her life, but this was beyond even Rack's worst. She reacted instinctively, moving towards Selene, both to shield her Queen and to seek some kind of comfort, some kind of respite from the barrage. Without another thought, she broke the spell around Remy and flung it up around herself and Selene, a purely protective measure.

Remy barely seemed to move. He simply put his manacled hands up mid-chest and his fingers flickered. It took only a second for the shield to snap back in place as Amanda realised what she'd done, holding Remy at bay. The Black Court looked at each other, seeing no consequences for the momentary attack.

"Was this your last... gambit, LeBeau? Some failed scare tactic to-" Selene's voice drifted off as Shaw turned to look at her. Out of his left eye, a thin tendril of purple smoke rose up into the air. It started to thicken and a moist pop jarred his head violently sideways. The thin tendril thickened into a massive plume, mingled with a torrent of blood that poured from every orifice in his head. The Black King pitched over, his now hollow head cracking open against the table as his body hit the floor under it.

"Le roi est mort." Remy said with a thin smile to the court, spreading out his hands. On his right ring finger, they could see the bloody crescent where he'd ripped out the nail to energize and drive into Shaw's brain. "Vive le roi, neh?"

Selene's normally controlled visage cracked, twisting with rage. "Kill him! Kill him now!"

Shaw's blood was splattered over the side of her head and body which had been facing him, dripping thickly from her hair. Amanda grimaced and held out her hand, closing it slowly into a fist. Around Remy, the shielding spell shrank, crushing him slowly and painfully until there was nothing left but blood stained clothes and mangled meat and shattered bones, a mass the size of beachball. Selene's Knight knew better than to drop the mess on the polished floors, holding her spell together so the remains floated ghoulishly in the air, a kind of macabre balloon.

"Enough. That creature is dead." Selene said, fury radiating off of her. Her eyes focused on Shaw's corpse for a long moment. "Move the preparations for the ritual forward. I'm tired of these insects, these... distractions." She turned to storm away. "And clean all this up, Amanda. It's the least you can do to make up for your stupid mistakes."




Siege Perilous Day 11 - The HFC doesn’t like loose ends. Clea is assigned the task of removing the Cypher.

TW: Character death




The door went flying off the hinges as a familiar white haired woman walked in, dressed in black. "Knock knock." She was having fun, knocking down doors lately. Her hands were already casting another spell as she sealed shut other exits. "I've come for you. You have been a very naughty boy."

"Shit." Doug scrambled backward from the desk he was sitting at, pulling a holdout knife from behind his back and keeping it low and out of sight. "What, mad that I turned you down?" he asked sharply. "I have a policy of not sticking my dick in crazy."

Clea looked at him for a moment, and gave him a once over again. "You are too young for me anyways. Personally, I have no issues with you but you pissed off the wrong person and they don't like that very much." Clea's purple magic pulled the desk off the floor and sent it crashing against a nearby wall. "Now, do you want to do this the hard way or the easy way?"

Too young. That would explain the odd body language tics he'd half-noticed in their previous meeting. Of course his own smartassery would come back to bite him. "I think we both know the answer to that," Doug replied, his tone lulling and reasonable. She had the advantage on him at range, after all. "If I wanted the easy way I would have just slept with you instead of mouthing off."

Clea smirked before her expression turned dark and the purple energy swirled around, "I learned this one from one Doctor Strange."

Whatever she was doing, once she let it loose it would likely be too late for him. So Doug took a lunge, the knife between his fingers aimed to slice Clea open from hip to shoulder.

The knife dug deep from the hip and the image in front flickered before the giggles filled the air. "By the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak." Another voice behind him said loudly. The red ribbon shot out from the darkness to wrap itself around Cypher.

Shit. Shitshitshit. He'd seen through her illusions before, and it had made him too damn cocky. He lunged against the pulsing red energy tightening in on him, and grunted in pain as the mystic prison cut into him.

The real Clea emerged from behind, a hand on his shoulder. "Really, nothing personal." She bopped him on the nose. "Maybe I'll see you in the next life, Cypher." She turned away from him before raising a hand out to her side and closing her fist tightly as she controlled the pressure of the bands as they continued to dig deep.

At least she wasn't going to try and torture information out of him, was Doug's oddly relieved realization before Clea closed her hand. The other members of the little network he'd been building would be safe. ~Sorry-~ was his last thought, and then oblivion.

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