Difference between revisions of "Log:Breaking the Girl"

2 July, 2018

A powwow and birthday turn to shit. Part of Olivia's Crucible.

Lakeside Lodge

Olivia has been fairly sober since the reception. She's in and out, going about her life as usual, and sliding back into things as they should be totally normal. There are visits, certainly; she hears about injuries and has checked in periodically, but has more or less gone back to the hotel. Weaver and Velvet have their home back. But she still visits from time to time, and she's here knocking politely on the door.

Weaver has been filling the space of free time with bouts of binge drinking and wandering off god knows where in the day time of all places. As of the last week he's been a touch grumpier, even if Velvet has helped reel that in. What was once cocksure arrogance has been replaced with little patience for anyone not close to the family or named Utridge. The number of bodies in his wake is small in number, but it's becoming enough of a thing that he has to clean the blood from under his claws. He was doing just that until he heard a knock on the door. "I know my pizza ain't that fucking early," he grumbles when going to the door. He hastily opens it, ready to shout down whatever poor sod is at the door. Then he sees his cousin, and all that anger immediately leaves him. "C'mon, Liv, pizza'll be here soon, and we got some wine if you want a glass.'

There's always lots of bodies in Velvet's wake. It might be the fact that she hasn't been out killing that's more worrisome. The woman has been sticking close to home lately, clearly unwilling to leave the Utridge's or the people close to them alone for too long. Not with assassins that could pop up at any time. Hearing the door, she glances up from the book in her lap and then to Weaver and his grouchy comments. "I could get i--" He's already up and getting the door. She shrugs and leans back into her seat, peeking around him. "Hey," she calls to Liv. "Wine, or the harder stuff," she offers.

"I always want wine," Olivia tells Weaver with a grin. "You guys actually have some left? Or did you restock?" She DID manage to drink their entire stock at some point. She steps into the apartment and wanders over to where the kitchen is, knowing exactly where it is. "I'm not sure how well wine goes with pizza, though. Do you have beer? Need me to go get some? How are you holding up, by the way?" Her head pokes around the corner, one hand waving to the other woman. "Hi Velvet. Want something while I'm up?"

"Wait. Did you just offer to buy me beer and you're being helpful? Shit, I don't know if you did something wrong, or this is just turning over a new leaf because I look like this." This being readily apparenty in the tank-top and shorts as he flexes his wings. "Anyway, you're good. Just waiting on food, and a few calls. Mainly from Sergio's wife because Jesus fucking Christ I do not wanna lie to her." Weaver sighs at that, and moves to go flop back on the couch, and give both dog and cat attention while chatting with the two woman. "I really, really hope she doesn't blame me for this shit."

"I restocked. We needed it," Velvet notes. "You went through a lot, but so did I, after the reception." She looks up from the book again, watching the two with a lazy, catlike stare. "You need to tell Sergio's wife the truth. There's a guy named Iron Dragon that's out to kill all of us and he killed Sergio. Honestly, you probably should call her first and let her know. If you want to avoid her getting any angrier."

"I drank all your liquor and then some," Olivia points out to Weaver, giving him a somewhat dry look. "I can buy a case of beer." She pulls out a wine glass and fills it before setting the bottle down, nodding slightly at the mention of Sergio's wife. "No, that's probably not something worth lying about. I don't know her or anything about her, but I don't think that's going to be a fun conversation any way you line it up." The glass of wine is in hand now and she steps out of the kitchen, leaning against the wall as she looks between the two of them, nodding in Velvet's direction. "What she said."

"I'd normally just lie, but I can't really think of a single good reason to lie to her." Whoever she is, it sounds like she's someone Weaver is truly afraid of. He takes a hand off Fido, and rubs at his neck nervously. "Anyway, wine'll do. Unlike my wife I can get blitzed from a couple dozen glasses." With that he makes a cute little wave in Velvet's direction. "So how's shit at the hotel? I've been spying on things and getting some help from Vee and others with it, but it never hurts to hear what's what."

"He assumes that I can't take the woman, which is why he's scared of her. I assured him that with enough prep time, I can kill anyway." Velvet gives a little shrug. "Not sure he believes it, but I think we both know it's true." Velvet gives a little nod of her chin to Liv. Right? Back her up!

"Unremarkable at the hotel as far as I can tell." Olivia shrugs and turns to step back into the kitchen briefly, retrieving another glass of wine and making her way over to Weaver to offer it to him. "I'm not that great at spying on people. I've been out playing my music. Busking a bit. Want to get back into it properly. Might as well, right? It's what I'm good at." She shrugs and steps back again, plunking herself down in a chair. Olivia looks faintly amused at Velvet, just nodding her agreement. "Oh yes, of course."

"Unremarkable? I swear I saw Susan taking some-" He shakes his head. It was probably nothing. Olivia siding with Velvet does draw a bit of contempt. "Hey! I thought you were always on my side, and it's not that I don't have faith Velvet. It's that she is the type of woman that if she wants to kill you, you either end up dead or like me. Exiled from an entire city." To that he lifts his glass in mock cheer. "Just think of it like this. What'd happen if someone got me killed, Velvet. Would you not kill the everloving fuck out of them? Regardless of who or whatever is standing in your way?"

None of that usual spunk is there, Velvet's eyes wandering over Olivia as she watches her. Granted, she's been through a hell of a lot lately, but even while drinking that spunk was there. That pyro-spark, as it were. She makes a noise in the back of her throat in concern before drawing attention back towards Weaver as he speaks. "There's nothing in this universe that can stop me from protecting you. Not even her," she notes simply. "There is no other me. So there is nobody that can stop me.

Olivia lifts her brows a bit and sips her wine, shaking her head and clucking her tongue slightly. "Us ladies need to stick together," she says. She does squint slightly, looking confused and tilting her head a bit at Weaver. "Wait, you got exiled? I don't think I got that memo. Where are you NOT allowed to travel?" Her eyes shift towards Velvet at the question before moving back in Weaver's direction. "She would kill them after maiming them horribly, I suspect. And they'd deserve it all."

"Sergio told you about that, and I filled in the rest." Saying the name is a blow to the chest of the dragon. He was going to add something else, but the doorbell rings. "I fucked her sister, she was gonna cut my balls off. Trade off is I'm not allowed back in Rio, and if she finds me she's gonna cut my balls off. That'd probably be the best of what she'd do to me." Weaver flashes a nervous smile as he recalls it, something never seen from him as he opens th door. Olivia and Velvet are in chairs while the hedge beasts of the house are lounging around near a coffee table. The delvery guy is already taking out the boxes from his back as Weaver stares him down like prey. "Hand it the fuck over. Now," he demands while reaching for his wallet.

Perfect time for Bronwyn to show up...as Weaver threatens a pizza guy. Aren't they underpaid enough without having to suffer this abuse? "Hey, Weaver" she smiles before doing her best to get between the Dragon and the Delivery Guy (not a sitcom). "My shout, Weaver. I was going to invite you all over for dinner anyway." She offers a hefty tip over to the poor guy. "I hope you're doing this to pay for college" she winks before handing over the boxes to Weaver. "Is your lovely wife in?"

"This was a pre-dinner warm up before we came over to yours. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be getting ready for your birthday dinner?" Velvet sets the book aside and stands up to start moving towards the door. She doesn't initiate hugs, like ever, she she's wrapping her arms around Bronwyn and giving her a little squeeze now, followed by a peck on the cheek. "Happy birthday, Bron."

Olivia looks at Weaver a little bit incredulously. "You... wow. Just... wow. That was probably not your wisest move, but hey, who am I to judge?" She shrugs a little bit and crosses one leg over the other when he hops up to retrieve the pizza. Olivia tilts her head a bit when she hears Bronwyn's voice, leaning over to look towards the door when Velvet rises to hug the new arrival. "Hey. Oh, apparently happy birthday! And Weaver, this is the guy bringing you your food. You don't need to get aggressive. He's not going to keep it. Chill."

Someone close is coming in, and Weaver's expression softens. If only for a bit. He takes the boxes, and the nsigns the receipt before closing the door. At least he didn't slam it this time. "Hey, Bron, and she is.' He then thumbs in her direction as he moves to drop those pizza boxes on the coffee table. Then Velvet speaks, and he goes blank. "Ah shit, that's today!?" As if to verify it he checks his phone, and grows even more nervous. Too wrapped up in everything that's been going on. "I am so sorry, Bron. We should've set some shit up. Something. Fuck. Fuck!" As he gets angry Fido takes this time to take one of the pizza boxes, and the dog marches off with it.

Bronwyn happily returns Velvet's hug and kiss to the cheek. "It's okay, everyone has a lot on their minds. So I thought I'd bring the party here" she smiles warmly to them all before a nod of thanks to Olivia's wishes. "Thanks. How have you been? All of this is...umm...quite the sight, right?" Ensorcelled mortals unite! She swings her satchel bag around in front of her before opening it up. "I even brought birthday log. Which is a cake that is easier to carry." She pulls out a Swiss roll. "Baked it myself...so everyone have medical insurance? And I couldn't stop Widget tearing off a hunk so it's been cut a little shorter than intended."

Another little look is tossed Olivia's way before Velvet gives Bronwyn another squeeze. "Well, wait here," she murmurs as she pats Weaver's arm. "Got it covered," she assures him softly before she starts moving towards the bedroom to grab something. She comes back with an arm full of packages, an envelope on top and a small bunch of cheesy balloons. "I was going to bring these to your place, but since you're here." She starts thrusting them at the birthday girl. "This is the first birthday I've ever celebrated, mine or anyone else's. So, I hope it's okay."

Olivia blinks at Weaver's reaction, staring at him for a moment. "Weaver. Chill. We can sort it out. You can order in anything these days. Cake, booze... whatever. Or I can run out to the store and get streamers and confetti. It's okay." She eyes Fido as he makes off with the pizza box, watching the hedge beast before just shaking her head and looking back in Bronwyn's direction, looking at her a bit blankly. Olivia did not get the Ensorcelling memo. "Quite... what?" Sure, SHE sees it, but why would Bron be seeing it? The glass in hand is tipped back and Olivia finishes off the wine, getting up onto her feet to return the glass to the kitchen.

"If it's burnt the cake should be good enough for me. I've had worse if there's a fire around anyway." Weaver reaches down to grab one of the boxes. THere's nothing there but air, and he stares long and hard at it. "I had three fucking boxes, and..." After the dots connect he looks over to the kitchen Fido went to with a whole pizza. "Liv, burn some of me a slice will ya. I'm gonna go get this pizza back or die trying. Mkaz and him already fucking ate the guy..." He trails off, and darts out of the room. "Just cook it for me!"

Bronwyn returns Olivia's confused look. "Umm...you know...how we can see everything now." A wave of her hand to the Changelings in the room. "I thought maybe we could talk about it sometime...if you want. No pressure." A curious look to Weaver. "You prefer it burned? Oh boy...am I the cook for you!" She laughs but that ceases abruptly when Velvet brings over all the paraphernalia of parties. "Oh my gosh...wow...thank you so much! It's perfect. Never had better" she grins, obviously touched and a little teary with it. "Now I feel doubly bad I haven't finished with those pages yet."

"They can each eat an entire person and still be hungry, having them split one whole person is bound to leave them hungry. But you should still scold him." Velvet says that towards Weaver with a little sigh. But Bronwyn's reaction has her smiling in earnest, a rare treat. "I'm glad you like it. The boxes lead up to the the envelope, so open that last, okay?" Oh! She glances to Olivia, nose wrinkling up. "At the reception she saw and heard a lot of stuff. She had to be Enscorcelled as well."

"He likes everything burned. Also warm beer. It's nasty." Olivia rubs at her head at Weaver's request for burned food and clears her throat. "Yeah about that. Fire not so burny anymore these days. I'm not entirely sure why. I just noticed it the other day. The only thing that's changed is the whole... seeing things... thing." She gestures absently at that. Not too many words to explain that one. But Velvet fills in the gaps and she snap-points at the other woman. "Yes. That." A small smile is given to Bronwyn at the offer and she nods slowly. "Maybe. I'm still mostly processing, but it's not quite as shocking as it used to be."

"Don't care," Weaver calls back from the kitchen. "They can share like everyone the fuck else," says the greedy dragon. He eventually does come back, but half of the entire box is missing. He won the fight, but lost the war. "Mkaz gets the rest of it!" The box is set down, and Weaver bows his head in Bronwyn's direction briefly. "I'm sorry for forgetting it, but shit's been fucky lately." A look is given to Olivia, head canting. "Well. Shit. Luckily it sounds like it's pre-burnt."

"Okay" Bronwyn nods to Velvet's instructions, still a big grin on her face. She glances around. "Is everyone okay with me opening the boxes? Feel a bit odd with everyone watching but..." A shrug. "It's my birthday." So she starts on the boxes. "Don't worry about it, Weaver. I understand." Her brow furrows. "Olivia has a habit of burning food too?" No knowledge of pyrokinetics here. She finds a place to sit and starts opening stuff!

For a moment, Velvet's entire expression goes still. Weaver isn't there to see it, and he's the only one in the room who could identify what that look means. It's gone in a flash and the glowing lavender of her eyes shifts color to a deep blue. She takes a slow, steady breath before plastering a smile back on her face. "Why don't you open them on the kitchen counter?" She gestures, waiting for Bronwyn to open all of them with a big smile on her own face. "Weaver, my love, would you please go into the kitchen and find the birthday candles I got? I think they're in the back shelf somewhere. Bron, I don't suppose you'd help him?"

Bronwyn looks up at Velvet's request. "Umm...sure." Gathering up her things she heads off into the kitchen. "And I will definitely help with the candles. If he tries to use more than twenty-one then we will be having words" she laughs and then she is gone.

"I can fire up the stovetop? Bring out a frying pan?" Olivia offers to Weaver, brows rising as she hooks one thumb over towards the oven. Her eyes flick over to Bronwyn and she pauses for a moment. "Uh. I had a habit of burning like... everything. Long story." She shakes her head a bit, puffing out a small breath between her lips. "I don't LIKE burned food, as a rule." Her hands lift, absently patting at her pockets as Velvet begins talking about candles. "I got a lighter the other day."

"Of course, baby," Weaver looks at the birthgirl with envy in his eyes. He doesn't try to hide it. It is who he is. "C'mon, I got some number ones in there too. It might mean you're gonna be 22 this year, but it'll work. Right?" He chuckles, stopping at the threshold to shoot a glance at Olivia. "Well, this is gonna suck, but she already said it's burnt so..." He shrugs, and with another laugh heads off into the kitchen.

If she's wrong, Weaver will never forgive her. She'll never forgive herself. But if she's right. Oh god, if she's right. Velvet watches as Weaver and Bronwyn move towards the kitchen, waiting for them to be out of sight. Her lashes flutter as she tries to steel herself for a moment. This is why you don't want to care about people! "You know, he says you're more like a sister to him than a cousin," Velvet tells Olivia with a sad smile as she glances in the woman's direction. "Which makes you my sister too. I couldn't have chosen a better one, myself." Her looks down, then back up with those glowing blue eyes shifting to a deeper shade of blue.

"Which is why I'm going to have to go get her back."

It's a flash of movement, so hard to follow. The silenced gun is lifted and aimed towards Olivia. If she's wrong... There's no time for that, the trigger squeezed, bullet piercing between the eyes.

Olivia looks up at Velvet when she speaks, lighter finally plucked from her pocket. She looks a bit confused by the sudden change in topic, glancing around briefly before looking back in Velvet's direction. "Thanks...?" she says slowly, not fully realizing what's happening until it's far too late. Her eyes go wide, a look of shock and terror appearing on her face for the briefest moment before she gets a bullet to the head.

And, perhaps fortunately, Velvet isn't wrong. Or unfortunately, depending on one's perspective. The Fetch falls apart as what looks like Olivia collapses on the floor, lighter tumbling from her fingertips and landing beside the pile of bits. Guitar strings, cigarette butts, pieces of burning tinder... but none of it ACTUALLY the Utridge either of them want to see.

Weaver was minding Brownyn and searching for candles. The sounds of several drawers being opened and shut can be heard constantly echoing from the kitchen. "Baby! You sure they're in here? I can always go to the store." Beat. "Could use some more beer, too. Maybe-' Then the faint thud of a supressed shot rings out. "One of you drop something in there?"

The bits fall out along the floors, and Velvet doesn't move for a long time, just standing there with the arm outstretched and her eyes and expression hard. She takes a shakey breath, slowly lowering the hand down. As Weaver calls out, her eyes close, giving herself a moment before she turns to start moving towards the kitchen, gun still at her side. The gun probably isn't alarming to Weaver, but there is something he's never seen before from Velvet, there's a single, blood red tear streaking down the side of her face. "I need to go to Arcadia," she tells him in a hissed whisper.

Weaver eventually comes from the kitchen as Brown squeels in excitement. He doesn't see the remainders of Olivia immediately, and instead focuses hard on Velvet. That single tear gives him pause until he rushes to her side to take her his arms. "Hey, hey. What's wrong? If it's about the candle I don't think Bronwyn'll care if she gets twenty-two on her cake."

Velvet is quick to tell Bronwyn that she'll see her later tonight, but that's it's probably safer is she goes for the moment. Once that's done, Velvet curls her arms around Weaver's shoulders, squeezing him for a moment before she lets go and wiggles out of his grasp. She takes a step back, jaw tight. "Weaver." She's never had that tone with him before. "I'll get her back if I have to murder my way through Arcadia," she promises, still not saying what happened. Maybe she can't.

Weaver looks shocked when she tries to break free. His brows lift as she says his name just like that, and he leans forward. Whatever foot he was waiting to drop didn't come. Her words only confuse him as he looks around, and that's when he sees them. Olivia's clothes and what the fetch has left behind. He kneels down in front of it, lifting up her clothing in his claws as tears well up in his eyes, and e throws them to the sid. Within a beat he's on his feet again, and is already toss the chair she was sitting in against the wall, shattering it. He roars. A sonorous, angry thing as he starts swiping his claws at whatever's in front of him as he begins destroying the living room.

The gun is put away as Weaver moves past her, finally spotting the pile of clothing. It's a good thing she has Bronwyn leave when she did, because it would have been too dangerous to let her stay. She gestures for the Hedgebeasts to stay put as she moves to follow him through his rampage in the living room. She watches him quietly for a long time, letting him get it out of his system while she numbly watches. Only when he's starting to lose steam does she start to move towards him, wrapping her fingers gently around his wrist to try to bring it down. "Weaver... Weaver look at me," she guides, other hand reaching up for his jaw. "Look at me."

By the time he stops the living room is a mess. Furniture, pictures, electronics. Whatever he can get his claws on his destroyed. Even the wall gets a bit of his ire as he roars out a gout of acid. Even when he stops he still has more in him. The haphazard, rapid rise and fall of his chest doesn't stop when Velvet eventually grabs his wrist. He doesn't raise a hand at her. He wouldn't dare, but he's still an ogre at teh end of the day. He looks Velvet in the eyes, tears still following as he searches her gaze.

Velvet has tears in her own eyes, which is odd enough. But it seems that this was the straw that broke the camel's back. "Hey," she murmurs, the grip on his jaw moving so that she can pet down the side of his cheek. "Save that rage, because we're going to need it. We need to figure out who took her, when, and how to get back into Arcadia. We start with The Borrower, move on to the Diva, then Monsterous Prince, and so on, until we figure out which one it was. Okay? Then we get her out."

Weaver can't get his emotions in check. Not that he wants to right about now. The only thing stopping him from tearing the rest of the house apart is Velvet, so he focuses on her. "This entire town is full of Changelings taken from God knows the fuck what!? She could be any fucking where! By who knows the fuck what! I am going to fucking whoever the fuck I even think did this fucking bullshit."

"You and Ben both came from the Borrower. Iron Dragon came from the Borrower partially as well. He stands to reason to be the one that has her. If not, we move to the next one." Velvet is still petting his face, keeping his eyes on her even as the red tears trickle. "We go through them all, as many as it takes, for as long as it takes. You need to deal with the Iron Dragon now so that we can focus on Olivia."

Weaver is shaking, still visibly upset. Velvet's planning may as well go over his head as he looks toward the door. Towards the outside world and so many other people to take his anger out on. The temptation is there, and every glance he takes that way just draws him closer and closer. "He's next! All of them are! All of them!" With that he turns around to start marching toward the door. "I'LL KILL THEM ALL!"

If she has to use Stone, then she will, for for now, Velvet is just moving straight for the door to set herself bodily against it. "Not like this you aren't," she states. "You need that rage, we both do. But with your state, you're going to end up hurting yourself and other people instead of helping Liv. We focus on Liv and how to find her," she growls in challenge. "We need a plan of attack. Going through town and murdering people isn't a plan."

She likely does have to use a bit of Stone to stop him from going out. "What I need is to kill everybody around town! Because that'll fucking fix it! Eventually I'm gonna find the right piece of shit that'll give me what I want! Because I have fucking had it!" His snarling comes with smoke that doesn't let up for a minute. That shadowy mantle is on full display, and takes up much of the space behind him as it battles with that of the Autumn's. "I have lost my fucking son and now I've lost my fucking family! What the fuck am I going to do with a plan!?"

Velvet shoves into his chest. It takes all of the Stone she can muster, but she does it, trying to send him toppling backwards. Or at least away from the door. "I am your family, too. /I/ need you, Weaver. I'm going to need your help in this. If you go off half cocked right now, all you're going to do is fuck me over and probably get yourself killed. Is that what you want? If you want to rage, rage in the house. Tear apart the whole place piece by piece if you need to. But then you need to HELP me.

The shove sends him back a step. There's a really good chance if anyone else was here he'd have lost his mind several times over. Weaver throws his head back, roaring once more as a rush of venom flies out. It destroys anything hanging above him as he falls onto his knees again. His gaze stays on the floor, breath catching as his anger fights with his sorrow.

Thank goodness for that toxin resistance, otherwise the air in here would probably be dangerous for her to breath. Velvet waits for him to drop and then takes a step forward. She wraps her arms around his body, drawing his head against her chest as fingers tangle through his hair, stroking the back of his head, soft and supportive.

Weaver sits there, wrapped up himself. His wings are tucked in, and doesn't move within Velvet's hold as he cries. He eventually moves a hand reaching to hug Velvet close. "I'm going to kill them," he whispers. "Anyone that has anything to do this is going to die. Until there's nothing left of them for anyone to find." He stops, finally lifting his eyes to her. "Will you help me?"

Velvet holds onto Weaver tightly, squeezing him as he cries. Her own tears are silent and unfamiliar to her as they slide along her cheeks. "Yes. We will kill anyone and everyone involved in this," she promises with a voice made of solid steel. "I will flay the skin from their bodies and make them beg for death." She reaches a thumb up to brush a tear from his face. "Start with Iron Dragon. The last time I saw Olivia acting like herself was at the reception. Which was the last time we saw Sergio alive. It's possible that he died, not because of assassins, but trying to protect Olivia. It would be a hell of a coincidence if the two events didn't line up."

"The reception?" Weaver asks with a sniff. He lifts a hand to wip away at his eyes, and falls backward to sit in a slump. "THe last thing I even remember was sending Liv outside to get some food for the beasts." He shakes his head, and buries his face in his hands. "I really do not need her being snatched up and Sergio dying to be fucking linked up. Did you check things out there, already?"

"I would think that Sergio's wife might be a little more relived to hear that he died fighting Loyalists attempting to kidnap Olivia, than she would that he just fell victim to assassins. It makes more sense, too,"Velvet points out with narrowed eyes as she starts wondering if she's on to something. "I'm going to check it more carefully now," she promises.