diabolus

[A tiny nod is the only indication that she’s heard his answer. She’s not sure what she was looking for, but she thinks he’s being honest and at the very least she’s grateful for that much. There’s a part of her that wonders if she should just leave it at that, let him walk away so he can go fight someone else or string along some other girl. She lifts her head so she can see him, and for a few seconds she just studies him, searching for anything there that might indicate that isn’t what he’s doing to her.] Why did you do it? [The question leaves her lips before she can decide if it’s something she really wants to know or not, and she doesn’t think she has to clarify what she’s asking about so she just holds his gaze and waits.]

{Mason runs a hand through his hair, a habit he's noticed he picked up recently. He's done a lot of bad things in his life, but he can only assume she means putting a bullet into his girlfriend's head.} She was going to die anyway, Darcy. Can't you just let it go? {It's a stupid question to ask, but maybe he's hoping for her to get angry. At least yelling would be more familiar than this quiet disappointment.}

Wait. [The word is weak and soft, and Darcy isn’t even sure what makes her say it. Maybe it’s the fact that he didn’t follow up with some sarcastic comment, some kind of joke about how bad the piano sounded. Or maybe it’s because while he’s not the only reason, he has a lot to do with why she feels the way she does right now. She still doesn’t look up, and when she finally says something she’s not sure if he’s even still in the room with her or not.] …Do you really think your soul is black? [It’s something he’d said as a joke the very first time they’d spoken, and she’s not sure why she’s bringing it up now except that suddenly she thinks it’s important.]

{Mason makes a face and bites the inside of his mouth when she asks him to stay. The word is so quiet he could feign not hearing the small request, but he has to stay, even though he knows whatever follows probably won't be pleasant. He'd said some fucked up stuff, and though he's used to letting people down, it stings pretty hard when it comes to Darcy. The question she finally asks is a bit deep, and he wonders if the black marks spreading on his chest are the real reason behind all of this.} I think if the world was black and white, I'd be leaning more towards the darker side of the scale. {He shrugs, but it's an honest answer.}

Beth is torn between finding the situation amusing or concerning but when he speaks, she can’t help the choked laugh that escapes. She follows his stumbling steps to the car and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, pretty sure we can both agree that I am not your mom, Mason.” Actually, Beth was fairly certain she wasn’t anything to him really but, of course, she doesn’t say this. Instead, she holds out her hands. “Keys?” He doesn’t move to get them, even after a few moments, mumbling something incoherently.

Mason lets out a very ugly snort at Beth's words. Of course she's not his mom. His mom had left him when he was just a kid, abandoning him to that miserable fuck he called a father. Parents were just generally sucky, and he's realized Beth doesn't suck that hard. Well, at least not in that sense. He thinks. Things are getting really foggy in his head for him to remember past events very well.

[A particularly unpleasant sound echoes through the tiny room when Darcy’s fingers land on the wrong keys, and for a few seconds she remains frozen, her gaze fixed on her hands. She doesn’t have to look up to know who’s standing in the room with her, and a million different thoughts race through her head, from their last conversation to the way he’d been attacking Evie’s dad in the middle of the theatre a few days later. She doesn’t know what she feels, doesn’t know what she wants, and after a long moments’ silence she just removes her hands gingerly from the keys and answers him quietly without looking up.] Sorry. I’ll stop, if it’s bothering you.

{Darcy doesn't look at him, but he doesn't need to see her face to know she's not happy with him. Between the fight, telling her he'd killed Jilly and sleeping with Beth, he doesn't even think he deserves to talk to her. For the first time in a long time he's unsure of what to say.} No. No, you can keep doing... that. I'm sorry. {He ducks his head and berates himself. He should've just left when he had the chance.} I'll, uh, go. Sorry. {Mason turns and head for the door, restraining from te urge to hit his head against the wall.}

Beth gives an exasperated sigh as he grabs her legs and she runs a hand through her hair. At his words, she clenches his jaw, knowing he’s drunk but it still annoys her if only because he’s being an idiot and an asshole. She tells him as much too. “Right. Well, I’m about to be one of those bitches who hits the asshole. Now get up.” Beth pulls at his arms around her legs, feeling like she’s dealing with, well, not a grown man. “Don’t be difficult.” She knows her words probably don’t even register with him but they’re still true. And the longer they were out here in the open, the easier it was for anything to happen. And she isn’t in the mood to deal with anything, dead or undead, right now.

Mason pouts when she starts to pull him off of her. That's not what she'd been doing the last time they saw each other. Still, he peels himself off of her and stands, only to stumble a couple of paces. "You can't tell me what to do. You're not my fucking mother." He leans against a car, finding that it's much better to be holding onto something that's not spinning around. He's spinning around. Like a yoy. Except not like a yoyo. Like he's drunk.

[Darcy hasn’t forgotten her promise to Mike - or the rules - but she hasn’t been feeling herself since they got here she thinks the town is safe enough. And she can be back in the theatre in less than a second, and that’s what she tells herself when she pops open a portal and steps into the church. It comes almost as a relief, to be completely alone even if only for a minute or two. She’d never been particularly religious, but once she’s inside she doesn’t head for the sanctuary. Instead she follows a set of stairs and finds herself in a hallways with classrooms, clearly intended for young children. They’re all in the same sorry state as the rest of the town, but finally she spots something worthwhile and walks into one of the rooms. The old piano is coated in a thick layer of dust and it’s missing a few keys, but when Darcy presses down on one of them it produces a sound. One that’s very off key, but it’s good enough and she pulls up a chair. The few years of piano lessons she’d taken when she was younger had clearly been a waste, because now as she sits there the only thing that comes into her mind is ‘Hot Cross Buns,’ and so after a minute that’s what she plays, the tune barely recognizable on the untuned instrument but it’s nice to hear all the same.]

{After being scraped off the pavement of the parking lot, Mason has somewhat gotten himself back in order. Though he's still dizzy, he's been drinking water and making sure not to fall asleep. Maybe that way he'll prevent the massive hangover he's going to have the next day. He doesn't know how he finds his way into a church of all places, but the space is quiet and relaxing. He's just about to doze off on a pew and get the whole hangover over with when a horribly out of tune song starts playing. Mason frowns and crosses through the shadows, already cursing the person making the noise.} What kind of cat are you killing in here? {He stops short when he recognizes the blonde sitting in front of the piano, shutting up completely.}

She’d say she can’t believe he was drunk off his ass, and maybe there’s a small part of her that doesn’t but, really, she isn’t as surprised as maybe she should be. At his words, Beth rolls her eyes and glances around for a split-second, wondering if he cares right now that they were trying to keep that under wraps. Instead of replying to his question specifically, she leans down and takes both his hands, pulling at him. “As tempting as that sounds, I’m gonna pass.” He was completely shit-faced and she wasn’t about to leave him alone in the open. “Come on, Mason.” He was dead weight right now but it was dusk and she didn’t think it was incredibly smart to be lounging around, especially in the state he was in.

Mason laughs heartily as she grabs his hands. His fingers wrap around her wrists, but as soon as his head is vertical an incredible wave of dizziness comes over him, only making him laugh harder. He clings to her legs and refuses to let go. "C'mon, Beth. You had a grrrrreat time. Rrrrright? I mean, if memory serves and you're not one of those bitches that fake it." Mason lets the slur practically drip out of his mouth. He isn't proud of it, but he's never been particularly nice when he's drunk. He's too honest.

Beth needed fresh air, she was tired of the stuffy air of the theater and after telling Rabbit she was only going out for a minute she headed towards the parking lot. She could hear the whispers grow louder each day and while it was never more than obscure words and noise, it was starting to bother her more. She could usually tune it out, like she was trying to do right now, but they were a constant thrum of noise if she wasn’t otherwise occupied.

Mason can hear footsteps coming from one side of the parking lot, but he's so intoxicated his mind can't make up from where it's coming from. Not like it'll matter anyway. Best case scenario, they're concerned and he pukes on their shoes. Or maybe that's the worst. He's not nauseous, but he can't imagine anyone coming near him with the stench of alcohol around him. 

[Her eyes don’t deviate from the now burnt space on the wall, even after she hears a voice. It takes her a moment to realize the question and that’s when she pays attention and looks over. Her head shakes and she pushes hair away from her face, blinking rapidly a few times. She doesn’t feel like she’s missing anything. Doesn’t feel crazy, not really.] No. maybe. Maybe it’s better to miss one. [She looks away, but not back to the spot on the wall. Instead, she looks at the ground before falling on her bottom.] From your face, I’d assume you’re missing one.

{The way she seems to be lost in space doesn't really help with her argument. Honestly, she looks like she's been staring at that burnt wall for a little too long. Her comment about his face only makes him shrug before he sits down beside her. He has nothing better to do.} Nah. After all the booze I've throwing at my body all these years, my last few screws are fighters. They aren't going anywhere.

[Rory doesn’t like the town they’re in. Despite the room it comes with, it also gives her weird feelings. At first, she’d attributed it to the fact that people had perished trying to get there. But as the days passed and through each of her lessons with Isobel, the weird feeling hasn’t faded. She’s staring now, at a wall that looks like it’s been drawn on countless times. It’s bugging her and the longer she stares, the more she feels her eye twitch, before she scorches the area. When it fades, she pulls her sweater to cover more of herself, mostly the bruises on her chest. Rory still doesn’t like the place, but she resists the impulse to burn the place to the ground.]

{Despite his breaking of the rules, Mason's been left alone for the most part. Thomas has to go out on patrols and no one has time to look over him, and so Mason got away fairly easily. The first place he turns up is beside Rory, who looks to be staring at a wall. Fucking wonderful. Is she insane now? Mason sighs and crouches down in front of her, realizing the sight of the numerous bruises and cuts on his face might be less than pleasant.} Are you missing a screw?

[The way he backs away from her isn’t a surprise, but that doesn’t make it sting any less. Darcy keeps the distance between them, frowning at his explanation.] Says who? [Maybe it’s guilt that makes him say it, or maybe he’s just trying to push her away. Trying to end whatever it is they have, but if he thinks he can make her be the one to walk away he’s wrong, at least for now. She studies him for a moment, and no matter what answer he gives her she’s already come to her own conclusion before she even asks the question.] Would you do something like that to me?

{Darcy arguing about his worth only makes him roll his eyes. It's pretty damn obvious. Her needing to ask only makes it apparent that she hasn't been paying attention. The question comes as a bit of a surprise, though. And so his answer is honest when he finds his voice.} I don't know. {He answers honestly. The idea of it makes him grimace, but sometimes he doesn't have control over the things he says. His emotions get in the way and before long he's killing someone or yelling at them or kissing them. Mason can't provide her with a decent answer because of it.}

[If Mason thinks Darcy should be bothered by the fact that he’d killed someone, even someone close to him, she isn’t. His girlfriend - Jillian - had been bitten, and that’s what had to be done when someone is bitten. What she can’t understand is what he says next. Why even if he didn’t care about the woman he’d just called his girlfriend, he couldn’t have kept that to himself in her dying moments. Or why he’s telling her about it right now, when he could have easily kept that to himself. After Kimi and Charlie were gone and he’d let her cry in his arms and put on her friendship bracelet and shared a stupid secret about his favorite song. She pulls herself to her feet, a strange calm overtaking her as she takes a small step toward him. For a few seconds she’s silent, her eyes searching his, and then she speaks up in a quiet voice.] Why are you telling me this?

{The same step she takes, he mirrors in the opposite direction, as if he's afraid of her. It's not true. He isn't scared of Darcy, he's scared of what he might feel if they keep doing shit like this. A part of him wonders if he'll do the same to her as he did to Jillian, leading her on only to make her dying breath mean nothing. Lucy's warning echoes in his head and Mason clenches his jaw.} Because I'm not worth it. {He admits honestly. She needs someone a bit more stable, and the black marks scarring his chest is a life time guarantee that will never be him.}

[As soon as her her feet stopped, Waverly looked over to see who the other person was, Her hers scanned him, till she noticed the look in his eyes. He looked angry or upset and for some reason Waverly felt guilty about it and she didn’t quite understand why. The voice in her head told her to let it go and stop feeling like she wasn’t welcome in the group ] Yeah okay. [She replied in a flat tone as opposed to her usual way of responding]

{That's all the response he needs to hear. He hasn't been in a very good mood lately, and talking to her and making an effort to carry out a conversation would only be mean to them both. And so he nods in her direction before heading off once more.}

[When the stranger’s being held back Dom only sees an opportunity to hit a still target. But Dom’s feet are stuck to the ground. Shadows that could almost be hands are wrapped around his ankles and the only reason he doesn’t go falling forwards is Wes. The man grabs Dom’s arms yanking them back and obviously not caring about the darkness wrapped around his fists.]

{Mason's surrounded by the man's arms as he pulls him away from the scene. Thomas apparently has no problem in moving the man's body without cooperation, and it only takes him a few minutes to get him into a hallway where he's no longer in the other's sight. Mason growls and reaches for the shadows, but Thomas doesn't release his wrist. He's fucked now.}