4/10 Instance: La Petite Mort

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Slarti
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Title: Damn Not Given
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4/10 Instance: La Petite Mort

Post by Slarti »

Timelined after Technical Widow

<Monet> Monet poured herself a glass of wine and sat down at her desk to check her emails. She had graciously offered to help the Hellfire Club sort through all of Sebastian's paperwork, but she was still waiting on a few things before she would be able to close a couple of his accounts.

<Monet> She sighed and poured her wine in the flower pot from the funeral. At least her apartment smelled lovelier than usual since she went home with half of the arrangements.

<Shaw> After a last glance around, Sebastian was sure he was alone. He used his key to enter her apartment. They had diverted his email here of all places.

<Monet> Monet stilled immediately at the sound of the key coming from the door and reached out with her mind to warn the intruder off. ...No. She pushed away from the desk and made her way into the hallway. "Get out," she warned icily before she even was able to see the imposter.

<Shaw> Shielding his mind from attack, he opened the door to try to see her. "Monet..."

<Monet> She heard the voice and knew the mind immediately. But it couldn't be. She lashed out again. "What do you want?"

<Shaw> "Well, considering the warm reception, only my email!"

<Monet> Monet rounded the corner and stared at the look-a-like. "You're dead. Get out of my apartment."

<Shaw> "I'm not. And no." He pushed the door the rest of the way open with his foot and crossed his arms.

<Monet> "You have to be. Sebastian would never let himself look that horribly disheveled," she crossed her arms as well and stood her ground. "Either leave, or I will make you leave."

<Shaw> "Disheveled? What, you don't approve of my disguise?" He rolled his eyes and went inside, kicking the door closed behind him.

<Monet> That's it. She flew at him, slamming him through the door. "You're out now. Au revoir." Monet turned and stepped through the man-shaped hole back into her apartment, making a note to call a repair man.

<Shaw> "You incredible shrew!" Sebastian scrambled up and launched himself at her back, tackling her to the floor of her tiled foyer.

<Monet> Monet let out a surprised sound as she was tackled and forced her elbow into his stomach, lashing out with her mind at the same time. "Get off of me, you wretch!"

<Shaw> Luckily for him, Jessica's attentions had given him quite the reserve of energy, so he caught her arm and twisted it behind her back, forcing her over onto her back. He barely managed to shield himself from her psychic attack, however, and winced as he met her eyes.

<Monet> Monet frowned up at the man, letting him think he had the upper hand by keeping her pinned for the moment. "Don't you know it's horrid luck to wear a dead man's face?"

<Shaw> "It certainly was for William Mann," he agreed, baring his teeth in a feral smile. Monet. It's me. He sent with the message a surge of memories - the club, the school, Jason, and their... unique relationship.

<Monet> Monet blinked at the message and allowed her rage to cool a bit and she was able to see the faint colors surrounding him instead of just red anger. What? "Did you fake your own death?"

<Shaw> "No." Sebastian let up on her. "But I've allowed it to stand for now."

<Monet> Monet propped up on her elbows and just stared at him. She had already done her grieving. What was she supposed to feel now? "Care to elaborate?"

<Shaw> "If you're quite through trying to throw me through objects, yes."

<Monet> "For now. Later, I'll more than likely do it again since you took your sweet time coming to let me know you were alive."

<Shaw> Sebastian huffed a dry laugh and got up, pulling her up as well, then turning to look at the ruined door. "Well this hardly affords us any privacy now."

<Monet> Monet brushed herself off and reached up to straighten his jacket, frustrated at him for looking so unkempt. "If you had let me know you were coming, instead of using a key that a dead man has, it wouldn't have been a problem. I.E. It's your fault."

<Shaw> "Of course it is," he chuckled, amused at her fussing. "I'm not dead, therefor, not the key of a dead man, my dear." Sebastian decided not to tell her he wouldn't have come at all if not for his email.

<Monet> "You have a death certificate in your name and a head buried under a tombstone bearing your name, therefore, you are dead. To the government. Which means you are holding a dead man's key." She held her hand out for it, "Unless you are planning to go back to our previous arrangement?"

<Shaw> "Mere technicalities." He waved her hand away with a grin. "Once it benefits me, I most certainly will return to my life. However, for the time being, I am much safer dead."

<Monet> Monet shrugged and moved into the kitchen to pour a glass of wine. She held up the bottle towards him in silent offering, watching him through the cut-out in the wall. "Elaborate," she repeated.

<Shaw> "Yes, please," he answered to the wine. "I was taken from the club by the cannibals. Pierce was one of them."

<Monet> Monet's jaw dropped as she watched him, "Donald? A cannibal?"

<Monet> She turned back and poured his glass, bringing it over to him and moving to sit on the sofa. "Why on earth would they want you?"

<Shaw> "For the same reason they would want you, so I urge you to be careful, Monet. Because I'm a mutant, and because I got too close." He thanked her in French and took a seat with her. "I was ambushed by their pet telepath."

<Monet> "Yes, but you're not one of the more powerful mutants. Just one of the more powerful businessmen," she smirked at him. "Oh? What happened to their telepath I wonder?"

<Shaw> "They don't appear to discriminate over strength of abilities. I was the most powerful of the group I was held with. One man only had a physical mutation and the other... well, he was a shapeshifter." Sebastian took a sip of the wine, savoring it. "It is he who occupies my grave."

<Monet> Monet stared at him over the rim of her wine glass. She licked her lips when she finished, "Did you force him to shift to be you before he was eaten? Or did they?"

<Shaw> "Neither, actually. I had no idea he was a shapeshifter, and he could not control his ability." He looked down into the glass.

<Monet> Oh. She frowned and looked down into her own glass. Just because she was a bitch didn't mean she was heartless. "Poor man. Had he just discovered his ability?"

<Shaw> "No, not that I know of... we had very little chance to speak. I attempted to overpower the fools they sent to retrieve me and they took him instead of me." Sebastian stared into the glass a moment longer and then took a gulp. "It was sheer luck."

<Monet> Monet sighed, "How sad for him. And how sad for you that you weren't strong enough to overpower them and get all of you out."

<Shaw> "I wonder how strong you would be while wearing an inhibitor collar, amant." He gave her a glare over the rim of the wine glass, suppressing his other memories of the experience - the meat hooks, the beatings, the smell.

<Monet> Monet glared at him and sipped her wine. "Amant, hmm? Still? I'm not into necrophilia, Sebastian."

<Shaw> "We have discovered a kink not to your taste? Consider me shocked."

<Monet> "Dead people can't compliment me. You shouldn't be shocked at all."

<Shaw> Sebastian chuckled. "Your charm is rivaled only by your sensitivity, amant."

<Monet> Monet smirked at him and stands to pace in front of the couch. "How did you get out?"

<Shaw> "I brained the telepath with a fuse box cover," he said, taking another sip. "While it was too late to save William, Mickey is recovering in a rather exclusive private hospital in Vancouver."

<Monet> "Mickey? The one with the physical mutation? How is he doing?" She sipped her wine as she paced, watching him closely. "Smart thinking with the fuse box, cher."

<Shaw> "I thought so." He sighed, stretching out his legs on the sofa and staring into the glass again. "The telepath... his mind is damaged. Not as badly as Jason's but comparable."

<Monet> Monet closed her eyes and stopped her pacing, arms wrapped around her torso at the thought of Jason. "Hopefully he'll recover if it's not as badly as his." She opened her eyes to look at Sebastian again, "So why are you just now coming to me?"

<Shaw> He watched her, weighing his answer. "I went to Tokyo for a time... to regroup. Since I've returned to the city, I've not left my hotel until today." In fact, he'd left Jessica asleep in his bed.

<Monet> "And it shows. You could have at least taken the time to brush your hair, for goodness sake." She reached out and smoothed it for him. "How was Tokyo?"

<Shaw> "It wasn't the most pleasurable visit I've ever enjoyed, but it gave me some time to recover." He caught her wrist and kissed her palm.

<Monet> Monet smirked at the kiss and pat his cheek softly, "Well, I am quite glad you're not deceased."

<Shaw> "Of course. It would take you all of a week to replace me." He smirked up at her.

<Monet> Monet rolled her eyes and gestured around the apartment, "You've not been replaced yet. It took me months to settle on you after Jason."

<Shaw> "Oh, well... every man longs to hear he's a settlement." Sebastian grinned into his glass and took a drink. The wine was helping him relax again, and he did look around, and noticed something. "You... seem to have considerably more flowers than I recalled."

<Monet> "They're from your funeral. Or, technically, William's. They smell lovely." She frowned at him and sat down beside him again, "When you do let the world know you're still alive, are you going to change the tombstone? He won't rest peacefully until you do."

<Shaw> "I hadn't thought much about it yet, but yes, I suppose I will. The man deserves some remembrance, as I do owe him my life." Sebastian finished his wine and set the glass aside.

<Monet> Monet nodded, pleased with his agreement. She set her wine glass down and looked him over, eyes narrowed as she spotted bruises beneath his beard. "This look really doesn't suit you."

<Shaw> "It does for now." He ran his hand over his face and smirked at her.

<Monet> "It suits your needs, oui. But it does not do you justice, darling. You're entirely too unkempt. And not in the sexy way."

<Shaw> "No?" He tilted his head and moved in close, brushing her nose with his own and sliding a hand to the back of her neck.

<Monet> Monet let out a sigh as he closed in on her, resigning herself to the fact that she needed to relieve some tension. "Non," and she closed the distance, kissing him, thankful that he was alive, at least on a basic human level.
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