the second time I meant

[esoteric_rose]

Characters: Grell and open
Date: November 11th.
Summary: Property damage to Beaumont and lots of emotions.
Warnings: If anything pops up, I'll edit it.

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[body_horrible]

Gavril was the kind of girl who was drawn to sounds of destruction, but what she heard this day was far from the sadistic glee-filled revelry she normally indulged in. Rather, even without seeing what was going on, the sounds resonated with feelings of frustration and anger.

Not sure what to make of all of this, Gavril chooses to sit and wait to see if anything interesting developed

[esoteric_rose]

She punched out through one of the windows, catching a brief glimpse of Gavril when she did so. As long as she didn't interfere, Grell had no problems with her sitting there, watching. This was its own form of show, and a real audience was appreciated. But if she tried to step in, she better have a very good reason why, or Grell would turn her fury on her. Friend, foe, there was no difference when she was this possessed.

[body_horrible]

Gavril knew very it was a bad idea to interrupt a woman in the middle of such an act. From experience she very well could imagine what would happen to anyone who dared interfere. For now she would simply wait a bit longer for Grell to work out her aggressions. Maybe then, she thought with chin in hand, she would say something.

[esoteric_rose]

It would be a while before the activity slowed enough for it to be safe for anyone to approach, only because Grell was beginning to crash from her efforts, and crash hard. Still, she had managed to do a great amount of damage for what was relatively a short amount of time, and she leaned against a mainly intact wall. The emotions had only stilled for a bit, she knew, but it was something. A strange, blank moment.

[lifes_expensive]

Black Jack wasn't exactly expecting to come across the clear cut sounds of destruction while making her way around the Gardens in search of a suitable place to build her clinic. Yet here she was, in front of Beaumont, where it was inarguable that someone was trashing the interior of the house.

And in that moment she was torn between minding her own business and continuing on her way, or braving the whatever whirlwind was raging just past the door. All of that broken glass and splintering wood was assuredly not good for the health of the houses occupant.

[esoteric_rose]

At that moment in time, Grell happened to look down at her hands. Even through her haze, something in the right hand didn't look exactly right-not the bruising or the cuts, but the way her fingers went. Not quite right, and it should probably hurt. Stupid. This was about breaking the house, not herself. She should probably have been relying more on her legs than she had been, but it was so satisfying to feel her hands destroying, to feel the weaknesses and press upon them with as much force as she could.

All told, it meant that for a brief moment, everything had stopped as she examined herself.

[lifes_expensive]

The noise had ceased, and Black Jack deemed it relatively safe enough to now investigate the cause of it. She pushed the front door open, letting it swing wide to better assess the situation before entering, lest whom ever was taking out their rage on the house turned it on her instead. Finding no one within the immediate range of the doorway, she stepped inside amongst the debris.

"Well, this is certainly one hell of a mess."

[esoteric_rose]

She turned around when she heard the other voice, unsure of what to do. Should she hide, should she be angry? No-fear was far away, her anger directed towards the building. She slowly walked down the stairs, looking for the source of the unfamiliar voice, ready to defend herself if they wanted to get involved. It was her project.

"It's not enough." Grell's voice was soft, devoid of emotion. She knew she looked crazy.

[notvitiligo]

Jessica heard the crashes from outside, and burst into unfamiliar running, scrambling into Beaumont before she realizes that this is a stupid plan. She slowed down inside, cautiously peering around for the source of the fuss and ready to bolt if need be.

[esoteric_rose]

What she would find would be Grell, running her hands through her hair, stilled by the presence of someone else there. Were they here to interfere, to tell her she was wrong? She knew she looked a mess-dust and chips of materials in her hair, small scratches over her arms and face from things that hit her, dishevled-and she didn't care.

The presence was familiar, and it takes her a minute to place it. Jessica. How did she keep running into her at the most inopportune moments?

[notvitiligo]

HOW INDEED

She hisses a curse word, rushing to Grell's side.

"Are you okay? What happened?"

[esoteric_rose]

She can't look at Jessica. She'll start crying again. It hurts to even think the words, much less let them fall off her tongue like weights that explain everything.

"Zenobia is gone." Just the right amount of emphasis to explain that gone meant gone.

[dewy_sunflowers]

The noise of breaking glass was what had startled Ukraine. Immediately dropping the basket she had been collecting a few plants in she picked up her pitchfork and made her way toward the sounds of destruction.

Coming upon the scene of destruction Ukraine slows her pace and watches the obviously upset woman for a moment. She worries more that someone will get hurt instead of how much the building is suffering but holds her opinions to herself for a moment.

"Please be careful, you could hurt yourself."

[esoteric_rose]

The other woman's words fall in a lull in the violence, and Grell seems almost to consider them before replying.

"It's all right. I'll heal."

Being careful didn't factor into this. If she got hurt, she got hurt. Scratches and bruises faded. This needed to happen now.

[dewy_sunflowers]

"Yes but...Surely there's a better way then destroying everything?" Ukraine was merely worried for Grell's well being. She knew sometimes violence had to happen but she still didn't think it was necessary.

[esoteric_rose]

"I'd rather not hurt people in place of this." She leaned against the wall, careful to not have part of the wood poke her in the back. "Unless you've got a solution to erasing pain."

[existwithoutme]

Kuja notices the flurry of destruction and is drawn to the scene. Destruction is one of her own talents. She doubts anyone in this realm or any other can match her where sheer destructive power is concerned (after all, she is immensely arrogant), but she is interested in others with similar gifts.

Not walking, but levitating, she floats in closer, curious, a faint, cold smile on her face. "What a lovely little dance."

[esoteric_rose]

Ignore them, ignore them unless they wanted her to stop, that was going to be her thought while she was swept up in destroying what she could. Yet that voice wasn't one she could completely forget-it was the Lady, the one she had deemed worthy of the capital ever since the dreams intertwined. To her, Grell would manage a response before kicking out a window.

"Passion draws the most complicated steps."

[existwithoutme]

"Oh it does. Deep feeling is the root of all great art." She's still not capable of much deep feeling herself--without slipping in to madness or despair, so she feels some bitterness. Not that she would mention that, even to herself.

"Is this a solo performance? Do you seek an audience, a partner, or--something else?" All this violence would be better served if focused against the Queen, in her opinion, and Kuja silently sends the suggestion out, into the air, a subtle poison. It doesn't work on everyone, but these things are built into her: discord, discontent, destruction, despair.

[esoteric_rose]

"I seek to end pain by pain."

She knows the irony of it, and a thought flashes in her mind-the Queen did this, the Queen should suffer-but her own loyalty fights back. The Gardens have been kinder than most places, she is free here, she is safe, and who is to say the Queen herself did not already suffer? No, it was something else. It had to be. She couldn't blame her.