Scene setting : The House of Red Velvet.
co-written with Temp, Moo & Artie.
Artie: At the tightening of the collar around her neck, Bandit would grit her teeth and give a low growl of disapproval. Though she would give few emotions, staring at Raul and then flickering her eyes to ‘Riley.’ The mist would make her blink in irritation, her hand reaching up and waving away the liquid.. Though she would still inhale some on that initial breath of surprise.. “You will see.. what I will do.. to that terrible imitation you call my ‘love..'” Bandit snarled, walking past Raul and bumping her shoulder quite forcefully into his chest. A look of murder was on her face – not because of the acts that Riley did, as she was used to this in her human life, but because of the fact that she knew this was not Riley to begin with. Her hand balled into a fist as she walked to a table, taking an object into her hand and then walking.. She would pause, raising the hand with a flash of silver within it up to her eye and then closing one – she would purse her lips to the side as she focused then, gritting her teeth.. She would only have a small window before Riley disappeared behind the curtain..
Her hand would then jerk forwards as she released the knife and let it go, flinging it towards Riley as the outsider’s eye would see no more than a whisk of the metal in the air.. A dull thud and then a scream from the courtesan as the knife had buried itself into Riley’s neck from the back, a straight point as it was flung with such force it pierced all the way through. Bandit would abruptly turn on her heel, ignoring Raul’s initial taunts and walking past him with a straight posture… She would begin to head to the door of the club, focusing now on removing this blasted collar.. It was beginning to choke her a bit, her lips pursing in discontent..
Temp: Roxanne made no fuss or complaint when the Doctor brought her onto the dance floor. The music that was playing was something she and the Doctor were familiar with, and so was the dance that went with it. She remained bubbly and happy as she whipped around the dance floor with him, letting out subtle giggles at Igor and Narcissa. They were both co-workers, but also people she considered friends. It didn’t matter to her if they didn’t feel the same way, for whatever reason. Igor was busy with a not-so-good-looking ‘lady’, and Narcissa was going ham on multiple types of food. It was good to see them both out of the Lab and doing something, even if it wasn’t necessarily ‘fun’. Regardless of what those two were doing, she would continue the dance with the Doctor.
Moo: Narcissa plowed through her food like no tomorrow. Noises of content sounded, along with rather loud chomping and sipping. There seemed to be a cleared diameter around the table, people naturally avoiding the horrific sight. “This food is so good!” she exclaimed. Even some of the food she couldn’t describe for the life of her. What had they called it? Caviar? Whatever. In went a spoon full!
It hadn’t taken the Doctor long to offer a dance to the ever lovely Roxanne, causing Narcissa to smile with delight. The two stood and went to the dance floor, and almost immediately after, Igor was pulled away by some masculine looking lady. Or wait, was it a feminine looking man? She stared at the fuzz on his upper lip, as thick as a caterpillar. Igor called out for help when she gleefully bounced from her chair and swept across the floor. It was amazing her dress hadn’t torn yet, considering it was already to its limits. The monster laughed while she cut between the two. “May I have this dance?” she asked with a bow. She couldn’t bend to her fullest, as the seems were beginning to protest. Narcissa swept back up and took Igor’s hand, sweeping him away into a waltz. Sort of. His feet barely skidded against the ground while she lifted him and spun on the dance floor. “This is fun!” she cried, giggling. “You’re such a good dancer, Igor!”
Razorbackwriter: ~The Dance floor~
The tempo of the music was lively and of course as it came to a crescendo, the Doctor whipped a rose out from the vase on a table that he and Roxanne passed and placed it between his teeth with a light growl of satisfaction. This had been quite a night and a triumph both for the lab team, and the new contract to work exclusively for the Prince of Pride. Leading Roxanne around the floor, the couple made a fine pair – applauded by many. Watching his creation Roxanne with a twinkle in his eyes, the Doctor mused “We should….go dancing more often. Yes. I like this side of you.” A crooked smile and then the Doctor stood back and bowed to his favorite nurse Roxanne for the song was over. He then gestured for them to sit at their table, while it would seem that Narcissa; who had been enjoying the buffet a great deal was in a tussle with the manly Trisha Von Ticka. Igor didn’t know which was worse. The hairy lipped Trisha or the Frankenstein like Narcissa. One thing was for sure, when Narcissa made up her mind, the hump back was only going to be dancing with one woman. Ripped away from Trisha, who stood there pouting with her hands on her hips – Igor was whisked off his feet and had begun the Waltz with the monster girl. “This is fun!” She enthused, as the crowd erupted at the new couple tripping the light fantastic.
Lighting a cigar at the table, the Doctor enjoyed watching Igor dance with Narcissa. “They are good…yes?” he asked of Roxanne, as the pair swanned past them. “Igor is so light on his feet.” No truer word was said. Blowing a puff of smoke, the Doctor then gave a wink and said to Roxanne; “When they are done we return to the Kitchen and check on our newest creation.”
The Warlock could see the collar tighten around Bandit’s neck, and he sneered as he gave her the options on what to do next. Naturally, Bandit had not lost any of her spunk…or her bite it seemed. Always so head strong and un-lady like. It was like watching a lioness. Proud and unyielding. Bandit did inhale some of the mist that had come from the collar, but she spotted a fake straight away and called the Warlock’s bluff. Menacingly, she then took a knife from one of the nearby tables and threw it with force and accuracy to strike the fake Riley through the neck. A loud cry followed by a female scream came from behind the curtain. The imposter….dead.
“Tsk tsk tsk.” The Warlock tuttered his tongue as the defiant Bandit turned on her heel and made her way towards the exit with her head held high. Did she really think he would just let her get away so easily after going to all the trouble of having Eva track her down? In a crowded room, filled with patrons, dancers and Hell’s elite – the Warlock was about to put on a right star performance. A bright spot light hit Bandit’s back as two large bouncers came in from the outside of the exit and blocked Bandit’s way.
“Ladies…and Gentlemen. Tonight…the House of Red Velvet is proud to present my newest….attraction.”
Many of the guests including the Doctor and his table would see the statuesque Warlock whip off his cloak that beneath it had a blood red silk. He spun the cloak around him much like a matador would in a dance, only this was no such thing. The Warlock uttered three words, though it was hard to tell what he was saying. “Shuda…Verama….Decesi!” The collar around Bandit’s neck started to glow brightly as each of the jewels blazed in colour. Red….gold…green, blue…and of course a brilliant diamond. The strap of the collar started to tighten around Bandit’s neck as she slowly started to rise off the floor. The collar’s magic was coming into the fore.
The crowd started to applaud as the Warlock raised his arms and then moved his fingers as though playing a piano – this would cause Bandit to float over the tables of the many on lookers towards a stage at the rear of the club. Here red velvet curtains parted to reveal a well oiled male wearing just a loin cloth but his head was covered with a strange mask that had no mouth and only slits for eyes and holes for his nose. He flexed his muscular arms and then his pecs as the girl floated towards him He stood by a large rack that was the kind that they used in medieval times. A whipping post. As Bandit would lower, the oiled giant reached out to snatch her from the sky, much to the Warlock’s amusement. Struggle as she would dare, the giant attempt to tie her to the cross, that is positioned so that the victim has her back facing the audience.
Down amongst the crowd, the Warlock was chuckling darkly as he turned to his many eager patrons that loved to administer a little bit of pain to the Warlock’s employees. Picking up a cat of nine tails, the Warlock swirled it in his hand and then offered it to the first man to raise their hand.
“Come now….we have a very naughty girl who needs a good lashing. Any takers?”
There came a burst of hands in the sky, but the closest of them happened to be…..the Ambassador.
“Oh…me…pick me!” the wig wearing Ambassador cried out – his gloved hand raised on high. The Warlock smirked and tossed the cat of nine tails to the Ambassador. “Valmont, my dear friend. She’s all yours.”
Artie: “What the fuck?” Bandit’s hand would go to the collar around her neck as her whole body was suddenly floating, the club’s eyes on her.. This was ridiculous. The warlock had always been one for dramatics, but now she could do no more than laugh at the pure stupidity of it all.. Clearly, her attitude had shifted in her time in hell. She was more skeptical, more of a realist.. Anything the warlock did only made her laugh in a bitter tone. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Her voice sounded as though she was done with such a show, raising a brow at the male in front of her.. She’d learned that the residents of Hell fed off of fear and reactions of that sort.. So instead of squirming she would only sit still at the post, wiggling her wrists a bit but not giving much more of a struggle..
As if he’d get her to cry for release and that she didn’t want to be here.. He was kidding himself, she would not grovel for such a vile being. “Stop being a fool, get it over with, you bitch.” Bandit rolled her eyes to the ceiling and then kept them there, bracing herself. Her pain tolerance was quite high from years of Hell – she figured she’d feel a slight sting in the beginning, but it was sure to fade with the first whips.. To emphasize her sarcastic attitude, Bandit would then make eye contact with Raul… and yawn. Yawn! She yawned at him, as though she had better places to be than this unforgiving shithole that he called a club.. I’ve seen libraries with better entertainment.. The blonde scoffed, rolling her eyes again and taking a huff of breath.
Temp: Roxanne had very much enjoyed her dance time with the Doctor. Once the song was over and their dance was done she returned the bow that she was given, then returned to the groups table. Narcissa and Igor were spinning around and grabbing all sorts of attention. She found the way they moved to be extremely humorous and couldn’t help but let out several giggles at how silly they were. “Those two are so cute!” She clapped and bobbed side to side as she continued to watch them dance, seemingly unaffected by the other happenings in the area. Whether she was just choosing to ignore it or she just didn’t notice would remain unknown, unless of course she was questioned on the matter.
Moo: Narcissa gleefully led the humpback around on the dance floor, even as he hollered for help. Eventually Igor learned to take things as they went, settling for disdainfully staring out to the crowds of people, focused on not spitting up the hot pocket he’d eaten. The song passed rather quickly for Narcissa, even if he couldn’t say the same. She giggled to herself while she spun him away toward the table, in which he barely avoided bumping into, instead tripping over his feet and falling in front of it. Her hand went to her lips with a little “oops” before she cracked a smile, waving at applauding onlookers.
She swept over the dance floor to the table after a moment, aiming for her plate of food. Hopefully it hadn’t gotten too cold. She sat down and took a big bite before dramatics began in the room. “Are we going home?” she asked with a full mouth. It was interesting to watch someone float over the room. Narcissa clapped her hands, oblivious. Though as the woman was strapped onto a rack and a sort of whip was revealed, she sat a little more quietly with interest.
Razorbackwriter: The Doctor was not so much one for dramatics or tasteless acts. He could see what was happening with the hapless collared girl and the featured rack that was positioned up on a small stage for the crowds viewing pleasure. Frowning slightly as he heard the girl’s abusive taunts to the Warlock, the Doctor checked his watch. Wilhelm’s mind was racing. Now that he had secured the contract he really needed to get his team back to the Hell’s Kitchen and work on the creation that he had left strapped to a table. Narcissa asked if they were going home, as she could tell by the doctor’s face that he had had enough. “Yes, my Dear. I do hope you enjoyed the feast and the dancing, but it is time that we all got back to work. Idle hands make no profit.” He declared, nodding to Igor – whose eyes were still spinning in their sockets from having danced with Narcissa and the manly lady. “Right…behind you, Master.” Igor said, as he tried to stand up and not fall over from being dizzy.
Putting on his coat, he motioned for the group to follow him back out to the Hell’s kitchen roadster that was parked outside. The team had a lot to do when they got back. Most importantly, was to test their new creation. The Doctor placed a good wad of cash in the bill folder and then marched towards the door, not bothering to look back at the girl on the rack.
As they all reached the car, the Doctor opened the door for Narcissa and Roxanne, while flicking his finger for Igor to jump in the driver’s seat. Hopefully he would be able to drive in a straight line. To each of his assistants the Doctor said. “We should do this more often, and with the Prince’s commission, we will be able too.”
(Lab Team TC)
~The Red Velvet Stage~
Yawn. That is what Bandit did when she was strapped to the rack on the stage before the dinner crowd. She thought so little of the Warlock and his games that she treated him with little to no respect at all. Bandit would not succumb to being the subject for the amusement of the Red Velvet’s patrons, and her continued defiance in the face of pain was not all that surprising. Not to the Warlock. He knew Bandit like the back of his own hand. It was one of the reasons he found her so fascinating and had followed her to hell. Strength in spirit and in will. But the human mind is only able to handle so much, and while it was clear that she had built up a resistance to the likes of the Warlock, he still had a few cards up his sleeves.
Snapping his fingers, Raul signaled for the loin cloth wearing beast man to tear away Bandit’s clothes to expose her to the crowd below. All gasped and some chuckled at the sound of tearing fabric, while Valmont stood off to the side – idly tapping the cat of nine tails against the side of his leg….almost like he was waiting for something. Whether or not Bandit remembered, the Warlock was still capable of some very powerful mind tricks. He had the power to make illusions seem….very real. Not just to touch….but to feel.
Slowly, the Warlock went up the stairs to the stage, as the tempo of the music got slower. A bizarre tune was playing. You could say it was hypnotic. A smile crept upon the Warlock’s face as he mused at how Bandit was playing for the crowd. Courage. You had to admire it. The Warlock’s nose twitched and again the collar gave off a fine mist before the view in front of Bandit’s eyes would become clouded. The room itself and everything in it, including the patrons would go into some sort of slow motion like effect, with even the Warlock’s words sounding slurred. A ripple passed through the air and reached Bandit – lightly caressing her skin. The Ambassador was still waiting. Why was he waiting….and what for? It was then that the Warlock started to change in appearance. From the sly looking gentleman, to a beast like creature – red skinned and wearing a suit that was like something from the 1940’s. He crooned as the rippling feeling continued to wash over Bandit’s body.
The chatter and laughter now sounded sick and twisted as the whole room was now blending in with the slick crooning of the Warlock. Then out of nowhere, the cat of nine tails struck. Once. That one hit that tore open Bandit’s flesh as though cutting ribbons. Red blood seeping….but it was not just blood. Worms…maggots…vile creepy crawlies crept out of her skin, while beneath it was now alive. Bubbling burning beneath the surface. Enough to make any sane person scream. Itching…teasing….eating.
Artie: The human female hadn’t given much of a response to the loin clothed man, instead giving a scoff and staring down at the ground. She still couldn’t quite get over how humor of an idea it was that he even existed. Typical. Her eyes would gaze at the ground as the cold gaze of many gazed over her body, her form stiffening a bit but yet she made no further moves. Not as though she had much a reaction. Bandit knew what buttons to push and Hell had hardened her to such tortures. What, did he think he was the first to arrive and try to make an example of her? The thought made her laugh, a quiet noise that accompanied an eye roll. Sure, she was a bit red in some areas from the ripping of her clothes, and perhaps even bruised. Clothing did not come off easily, despite how easy it sounded in words written on paper.
The blonde stared into space, wincing a bit and giving a sharp intake of breath at the sharp pain suddenly on her back. There was a sharp noise of the hard and unyielding fabric on her sensitive skin, her eyes squeezing shut for a brief moment. Perhaps if she disconnected herself she could push through this. Her eyes closed and the cold of the chains around her wrists slowly began to fade, as she went back to her thoughts of the days beforehand. There was a slight feeling of crawling all around her, but she could easily ignore it with her closed eyes. Amusing how the sounds of others became easily twisted into some sort of horror show that she didn’t want to be apart of. Bandit would grit her teeth lightly, her breathing slowly as she focused on something other than her physical senses and presence, as they were currently compromised by Raul’s magic. If she couldn’t rely on her physical body she would retreat into her mental.. Though to be frank, that wasn’t much better at the moment.
She could only think of the betrayal of Riley. She knew it wasn’t real, but the fact that the warlock knew anything — no, she shouldn’t be surprised. He was a sneaky little thing for a reason, after all. Bandit breathed slowly, retreating to her own world in her mind as her body became somewhat.. unoccupied? Though, the warlock may be a bit surprised to see Bandit’s wounds on her back slowly healing. She found that the crawling began to go away, as her mind recovered from the mist’s effects.. Clearly, she wasn’t prone to anything that could alter her state of mind and body.. but, it wasn’t going to last as long as it usually did. This was an effect of something that she was under the influence of.. but what..?
Razorbackwriter: Life is but an illusion, and we are all players on the grand stage. The mind tells us what to see, and when it can will shield us from the most horrific of circumstances. Think of it as a built in safety switch. What we see, what we feel are all transmitted and collated by our mind’s sensors and thus we deduct from that and react accordingly. Some break so easily when their mind is pushed to the limits, and it was clear that Bandit had come to use a special ability of attachment. Burrowing deep inside her sub conscious and finding refuge from the evil that was the Warlock. Odd how this “human” was able to perform such feats that went above and beyond what is considered to be normal capabilities. But…this was the Warlock’s special forte. The mind. Said to be one of the most powerful part of the human anatomy and in most case only used to a minor percentage of its capability, the Warlock had been studying them and their limits for many years. He had been inside Bandit’s mind before….and would so again – so long as the collar remained firmly clasped to her neck.
As Bandit retreated behind the walls of her mind, her body strangely began to heal itself, as the vile worms, and maggots vanished like sparkling dust from her skin. The warped goings on of the House of Red Velvet started to black out and even the cries of laughter and pleasure would fade into nothingness as the entire room became a black void. The Ambassador, the loin clothed man had seemed to turn into…..hedge like statues, as the stage was replaced by a simple stone square within a large garden maze. The chains and ropes that bound Bandit turned to snakes and slithered from her body, dropping onto the stone path below. A long and lonely wolf howled in the distance, and there was the faint sight of lights….sparkling…dazzling – yet so so far away. A lone raven sat upon one of the stone statue’s head and cawed at Bandit, to rouse her from her mind.