Intentions Are Good

[green-shield.livejournal.com]

But, actual thought process on this one? Classically bad.

She's running on a least a strained ankle, if not broken one. Her left arm - recently healed, took another hit which made her shot against Daddy Phillip go wild. Her back hurt from the burn Crystal gave her - and she was pretty sure she wasn't in Idaho which meant the Outsiders were likely going to have a bitch of a time finding her and getting her out of this trap.

Breathlessly, she ducks behind some rocks. She won't win this one. This is a given. She's going to take out as many of Corrine's dysfunctional family as she could before they sent her to God though.

Comments

[blind-will.livejournal.com]

Travis lays his head back against the shield. Holding his head up is too much anymore. But he still grins.
*No. As bad as the demons and torture will be, again... you've been there. But what's really going to bug you for the rest of eternity...* he coughs up blood, pausing.
*I used to go into the park, learned how to play chess, and had people describe the jugglers and tumblers and magicians... always had to try and figure out how it worked. Since I couldn't be distracted, look the other way. I just heard the whole trick. And you know, kind of the same thing... when Corrine was teaching me about magic. I couldn't see the flash and glamour of it, just sort of felt how its all a pattern.*

Another cough, letting most of his personal shields go.
*All this time you've been attacking me, this dome we're in... it wasn't to keep us in... it was to scan. Every spell you've cast... was showing me how you weave patterns. Every time you defended yourself by teleporting, or raising a shield instead of dodging, because you're so damn powerful and had to show off... the shield was reading ways to sneak around your defenses.*

He shifts, groaning a bit at the effort, trying to find something slightly comfortable, and failing.
*I bet you're wondering why you can't move your hands right, and why your knees are buckling, huh? All this time you've been kicking my ass, I've been figuring out how your possession spell worked, so I could undo it. Seeing the pattern... and pulling all the threads at once. All you had to do was dispel the dome... nothing I could have done to stop you. I'm dying, see... and it all would have failed, and you could have kicked my ass at your leisure. But you came after me, because I was in your way.*

One more cough, not even trying to get his hand to his mouth to wipe the blood away this time. No point, a lot of his face is gone anyway.
*I'm dying... but I'll see you in hell, Phil... because for all your magic and power, you didn't /think/. And I just know that that's what's always going to stick in your gut... you lose, because of stage magic.*

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

He's... right.

Phillip's lost grip on the body. There's seconds of panic, the first urge to incant his stabilizations back in place, the second urge to curse, but neither come to fruition.

The body, like so much dead weight, drops.