Isaac Lahey (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
notwitty) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
everyonelives2021-02-22 11:15 pm
notwitty) wrote in everyonelives2021-02-22 11:15 pm
angry men don't write the rules, and guns don't right the wrongs
“This isn’t up for debate, Della.” Patrick Brighton stands tall at the head of the room, staring down the witches with a wave of his hand. His wife, Frida, sits on his right, and his daughter Bridget on his left, and while he respects Della and the work she’s done for the coven over the years, this is a line he doesn’t intend to cross. “We’re not joining Tamara Monroe.”
“Well. Playing favorites again, are we?” Della crosses her arms in front of her chest as she stares up at the stage. “You’ll let Eliza come in here and bring that beast —”
“Name calling is beneath you, Del. But then again, maybe it’s the company you’re keeping.”
“Eliza,” Patrick gives her a look. “Not helping.” Eliza holds up her hands in return. “And I haven’t decided whether or not I’m going to give Isaac the opportunity to speak.”
“I just don’t understand why you’re taking the side of monsters.” Della glares at Isaac, and Isaac steps behind Eliza, almost as though she might be able to intercept the glare. He then holds up a hand.
“I’m being called a lot of names and I haven’t even said anything yet.”
“And you shouldn’t be allowed to say anything at all! You’re not one of us!”
“No, but I’m trying to help you.” Isaac’s spine straightens as he takes a step closer. “Those hunters that you want to team up with? They’re not doing it to help you. They’re doing it because you’re powerful and they want to control you.” He holds up his hands again. “Tamara Monroe doesn’t want to ally with you to save you. She’s not looking out for your best interest. She’s just making a note of who to kill last.”
Della looks furious. A gasp of silence rolls through the room, but Isaac isn’t one to sugarcoat things, and beating around the bush hasn’t really caused things to sink in. Before she can try to get the upper hand, Isaac interjects again.
“The hunters are here. They tried to kill me this morning for walking down the street. They will come after your coven and your families, and there is no time to debate this anymore. You need to keep your people safe.”
Patrick looks over at Frida, concern in his features. Della looks like she’s going to argue her case, but before she gets too far, someone stands in the back of the room, and there’s the sound of a gun slide being pulled back. Everyone turns, and a man stands in the middle of the crowd, and he has a gun pointed at Isaac.
“What are you doing?” Patrick demands, stepping forward. “Put that down!”
“I don’t have to listen to you, witch.” The man has a wild look in his eyes. Isaac can see another man looking horrified in a way that’s more personal. The hunter had a partner. “If I had a say in any of this, I’d take every one of you abominations down. But right now, I’m just here for him.”
He turns and fires. The bullet shoots through the air, and Isaac quickly steps in front of Elijah, taking two bullets to the chest. Neither of them were kill shots, but they hurt, and the werewolf stumbles backwards into the witch behind him.
“Oh, I forgot how much that hurts,” Isaac grumbles.
“There’s no wolfsbane in these bullets, but I’m sure a headshot will do the trick.” The hunter prepares to shoot again, but the metal begins to heat in his hand, burning his skin and the hunter hisses before dropping it to the ground.
Patrick is on the stage, hand on the staff that marks him the leader of the coven. “That is enough.”
That should have been the end of things. It wasn’t. Instead, the hunter pulls out another gun, extending his hand and shooting Patrick Brighton at center mass. His body jerks three times as the bullets collide and the room erupts into screams, none more than the women at the front of the room. The witches begin to run, trying to find the nearest door to escape the carnage. Another shot sounds, and Frida Brighton follows her husband, landing on the stage in front of them.
Bridget Brighton doesn’t hesitate, however. There’s a reason she’s been designated her father’s heir, and she acts quickly. She takes the staff, letting it settle into her hand before slamming the end of the staff down into the ground, chanting as she does. A shockwave echoes out through the center of the room, blowing down the walls of the building down and sending people flying.
The other hunter in the room had tried to come to his compatriot’s aid. Instead, he gets sent flying, a jagged piece of wood slicing through his chest from behind. The hunter who shot her father gets knocked to the ground, but he comes to his feet again, staring her down.
“Kill me if you want. But there’s more of us here. We’ll take our pound of flesh either way.”
“So you want to play a game, then?” There’s a dangerous edge to her voice.
“Bridget,” Eliza’s voice is calm, but there’s an undercut of fear to it. Bridget is a good girl, but she’s also a grieving one. “Bridget, we’re better than this.”
“Maybe we are. But that doesn’t mean we don’t deserve to defend ourselves.” The wind picks up around her and she draws her hands out in front of her. She chanted another incantation, before drawing her hands together. The world flickers, and Eliza’s eyes widen.
“What did you do?”
“I trapped them in here with us.”
The hunter’s eyes widen. “You can’t do that.”
“Oh, I can do whatever I want. You’re the one who started this.”
“We’ll find a way out. We’ll stop the spell, even if we have to kill you.”
Bridget smirks. “You’ll have to catch me first.” And with that, she disappears from sight.
The hunter tries to leave but Isaac is there before he can get far. The werewolf clotheslines him down to the ground, before shoving a hand into his chest, claws first. The man cries out in pain, before looking up at him, eyes still filled with that wild energy.
“You’re one of Scott McCall’s wolves. You won’t kill me.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Isaac twists, feeling the blood start to leak through the wounds. “But you forgot two things. One, Scott’s not here right now, and you shot me. Twice.”
The hunter snarls as Eliza comes up over Isaac’s shoulder.
“And what’s the second?”
“It’s not the head of my coven you just killed.”
“Well. Playing favorites again, are we?” Della crosses her arms in front of her chest as she stares up at the stage. “You’ll let Eliza come in here and bring that beast —”
“Name calling is beneath you, Del. But then again, maybe it’s the company you’re keeping.”
“Eliza,” Patrick gives her a look. “Not helping.” Eliza holds up her hands in return. “And I haven’t decided whether or not I’m going to give Isaac the opportunity to speak.”
“I just don’t understand why you’re taking the side of monsters.” Della glares at Isaac, and Isaac steps behind Eliza, almost as though she might be able to intercept the glare. He then holds up a hand.
“I’m being called a lot of names and I haven’t even said anything yet.”
“And you shouldn’t be allowed to say anything at all! You’re not one of us!”
“No, but I’m trying to help you.” Isaac’s spine straightens as he takes a step closer. “Those hunters that you want to team up with? They’re not doing it to help you. They’re doing it because you’re powerful and they want to control you.” He holds up his hands again. “Tamara Monroe doesn’t want to ally with you to save you. She’s not looking out for your best interest. She’s just making a note of who to kill last.”
Della looks furious. A gasp of silence rolls through the room, but Isaac isn’t one to sugarcoat things, and beating around the bush hasn’t really caused things to sink in. Before she can try to get the upper hand, Isaac interjects again.
“The hunters are here. They tried to kill me this morning for walking down the street. They will come after your coven and your families, and there is no time to debate this anymore. You need to keep your people safe.”
Patrick looks over at Frida, concern in his features. Della looks like she’s going to argue her case, but before she gets too far, someone stands in the back of the room, and there’s the sound of a gun slide being pulled back. Everyone turns, and a man stands in the middle of the crowd, and he has a gun pointed at Isaac.
“What are you doing?” Patrick demands, stepping forward. “Put that down!”
“I don’t have to listen to you, witch.” The man has a wild look in his eyes. Isaac can see another man looking horrified in a way that’s more personal. The hunter had a partner. “If I had a say in any of this, I’d take every one of you abominations down. But right now, I’m just here for him.”
He turns and fires. The bullet shoots through the air, and Isaac quickly steps in front of Elijah, taking two bullets to the chest. Neither of them were kill shots, but they hurt, and the werewolf stumbles backwards into the witch behind him.
“Oh, I forgot how much that hurts,” Isaac grumbles.
“There’s no wolfsbane in these bullets, but I’m sure a headshot will do the trick.” The hunter prepares to shoot again, but the metal begins to heat in his hand, burning his skin and the hunter hisses before dropping it to the ground.
Patrick is on the stage, hand on the staff that marks him the leader of the coven. “That is enough.”
That should have been the end of things. It wasn’t. Instead, the hunter pulls out another gun, extending his hand and shooting Patrick Brighton at center mass. His body jerks three times as the bullets collide and the room erupts into screams, none more than the women at the front of the room. The witches begin to run, trying to find the nearest door to escape the carnage. Another shot sounds, and Frida Brighton follows her husband, landing on the stage in front of them.
Bridget Brighton doesn’t hesitate, however. There’s a reason she’s been designated her father’s heir, and she acts quickly. She takes the staff, letting it settle into her hand before slamming the end of the staff down into the ground, chanting as she does. A shockwave echoes out through the center of the room, blowing down the walls of the building down and sending people flying.
The other hunter in the room had tried to come to his compatriot’s aid. Instead, he gets sent flying, a jagged piece of wood slicing through his chest from behind. The hunter who shot her father gets knocked to the ground, but he comes to his feet again, staring her down.
“Kill me if you want. But there’s more of us here. We’ll take our pound of flesh either way.”
“So you want to play a game, then?” There’s a dangerous edge to her voice.
“Bridget,” Eliza’s voice is calm, but there’s an undercut of fear to it. Bridget is a good girl, but she’s also a grieving one. “Bridget, we’re better than this.”
“Maybe we are. But that doesn’t mean we don’t deserve to defend ourselves.” The wind picks up around her and she draws her hands out in front of her. She chanted another incantation, before drawing her hands together. The world flickers, and Eliza’s eyes widen.
“What did you do?”
“I trapped them in here with us.”
The hunter’s eyes widen. “You can’t do that.”
“Oh, I can do whatever I want. You’re the one who started this.”
“We’ll find a way out. We’ll stop the spell, even if we have to kill you.”
Bridget smirks. “You’ll have to catch me first.” And with that, she disappears from sight.
The hunter tries to leave but Isaac is there before he can get far. The werewolf clotheslines him down to the ground, before shoving a hand into his chest, claws first. The man cries out in pain, before looking up at him, eyes still filled with that wild energy.
“You’re one of Scott McCall’s wolves. You won’t kill me.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Isaac twists, feeling the blood start to leak through the wounds. “But you forgot two things. One, Scott’s not here right now, and you shot me. Twice.”
The hunter snarls as Eliza comes up over Isaac’s shoulder.
“And what’s the second?”
“It’s not the head of my coven you just killed.”
no subject
You too. Anyone grabs you, you're on vacation with the other lads. How's your English accent.
no subject
Pretty shitty. But I'll find something that works. You head North, I'll head west.
[And with that, he disappears into the streets, leaving Mickey to fend for himself.]
no subject
He hears voices around the corner, though, and decides to fling himself like he's running. )
My god - there's -- do you know what's happening? I was trying to get back to my car and I -- can't? And I saw - I don't know, I can't explain it. But I saw something.
no subject
When Mickey barrels into her, however, she snaps into information-gathering mode. He might know more than he thinks. She catches him by the arms.]
It's okay. Tell me what you saw.
no subject
I don't know what I saw. It was like - something moved but nobody was touching it. And, and, my car it's -- I can't get to it. It's like I reached this -- invisible wall.
( He even looks to Faith, who frowns, and then back to Mia. )
But that's not possible.
no subject
There's a lot of weird stuff happening right now. It might be something in the air.
[Yeah. Because that's a good, convincing lie.]
Do you live around here?
no subject
( And Spike comes walking back.
"Some sort of barrier spell." )
Spell?
no subject
I'm Mia. What's your name?
no subject
( Last names are fine. Damn it. )
Garrett. Adler. Did he - what's going on?
( He's laying it on a bit thick, but this chick seems to be eating it up, so that's fine. )
no subject
Look, this is going to be hard to explain, but we need to keep moving. Can you do that?
no subject
( Spike looks back, looks to Mia. )
Oi!
( Faith swings an arm at them, considers something, says something in the receiver, indicates to Spike she's heading in that direction and she's off. )
Faith's running interference. Come on you two.
no subject
Who was she talking to?
no subject
( Well, Mickey could -- get the drop on these two and join the 'blokes,' but witches are blokes, too. And it sounds like... they can handle themselves if Faith's --
"Uh, what's -- who are you all?" It's the easiest way he can ask what Faith is. )
no subject
[Look at how friendly they are.]
We were just passing through when everything went crazy.
no subject
( Like that? )
no subject
[Is she dodging? She's totally dodging.
To Spike:]
I didn't say anything about witches, did you?
no subject
Right. You're right. Must've heard - I don't know. I just. This night. Where uh- were are you from? What brought you to London?
no subject
[Because that seems easy enough.]
We were visiting some clients, but tonight was our night off.
no subject
( Mickey is just going to have fun continuing to call you guys on your bullshit at this rate. Playing dumb is keeping him alive. He's going to do it some more.
Meanwhile, Faith dispatches the amateur hour hunter brigade pretty quickly. Some broken arms and legs and sprained backs back there. They might here them in the distance. )
no subject
[Which is close enough to the truth to be ... well true. They might even give them Kennedy's company if they have to.
But hope you're having fun, boss.]
no subject
( He's at least "safer" with them, so he's good to let his guard down a little more, relaxing the tension in his shoulders as they keep moving. )
Where are we going?
no subject
She opens her mouth to give some kind of glib answer, when there's the sound of something cracking in the distance.]
Did you hear that?
no subject
Yeah, like a stick cracking?
no subject
[She jogs a few steps ahead, trying to get a look. As she rounds the corner, she arrives just in time to see an entire building come down on a wave of magic.
She stumbles backwards on reflex, eyes wide, before she reacts, rather than thinking it through.
She runs straight forward into the dust and rubble.]