Ariaella 'Aria' McKinnon-Hawkins 26 Intelligence Analyst MI5 The Manic Heart RPG Disclaimer I am not Emilia Clarke. This blog is for RPG purposes only.
Meg rubbed a hand over her face again, nodding slowly. She wasn’t going to mention to Aria just how that fire had been started and what her role in it had been; she was already kicking herself enough about that, she didn’t need Toby’s judgment on top of it as well. “Yeah, that corner’s probably going to need renovations,” Came her reply, brows furrowing a little. “Probably… well, I only have estimates, I’m having two different repair companies give me numbers to see which one offers a better deal, but it’ll probably be around… 25 000 quid, if not more. I already have some of it covered, but…” She sighed, looking miserable.
Aria wished she could reach over and into the screen to give Meg a hug. As much as she was worried and angry that the club wasn't spared from the blackout, Meg was alive right? That is important. "25 000 quid..." she trailed off. "I can easily cover that amount and add in a few more." Money was never a problem to her and with Toby, it would never be. "I can wire you the money in an hour.Toby of course would fund anything more but you'd have to specify. It's his baby anyway. Do you want to talk to him personally later, love?" she asked gently. "He'll only be around later in the evening.. Although he has heard about the blackout."
Meg let out a slow breath, casting her eyes down as she slowly listed the damage, “Bar’s been ransacked, some of the rooms upstairs completely destroyed… and there’s been some significant fire damage.” Sucking her bottom lip into her mouth, she looked up again. “They’re even talking about structural damage to the ceiling because of it.”
As Meg listed out the damage, Aria's hues widened, almost disgusted by the outrageous acts. At the mention of fire, her ears perked up, her posture straightening and going stiff. "Those fucking bastards," she muttered under her breath, secretly glad that the toddler wasn't at home. She would have gotten yelled at. "Structural... that is going to be a hell of a thing to fix," she concluded, glancing away before back to the screen. "Have you... determined the amount you need for repairs, dear?"
Meg shook her head. “Some arse at the club threw a bottle at me,” Licking her bottom lip, a soft snort left her mouth. “Really bad is an understatement. Listen,” She sighed, rubbing her face again, “I’m calling because, well… I’m going to have to shut down the club for a while for renovations. It didn’t exactly… come out unscathed.”
"Oh," that was all she could say as she gathered her thoughts, controlling the anger filling her person. But Meg is safe -- that is all that matters. The club was Toby's baby. Currently he was dealing with putting through other projects and busy with Maxine' -- he hasn't heard of this fiasco in London yet. "How scathed are we talking about here?"
As much as she liked talking to Toby, Meg figured she’d talk to Aria first; see what she could do, perhaps ask for her help as well. “Hey, Aria,” She muttered softly, self-consciously touching the bruised side of her face. “I’m uh, taking you heard what happened in London?”
"What happened to you dear? Who hurt you?" She eyed Meg's bruised cheek although the image was pixelated. She slumped forward, eyebrows still knitted. "Yes, I have. It's really bad from the sound of it? The phone's been ringing non-stop for me although you're much more important." She wasn't too sure why Meg requested to talk to her first but Aria figured the redhead would have a good reason.
Aria tapped the camera several times before the small beam of light flicked on. The screen showing Meg's side of the call was dark until there was a flicker and then slowly the sight of the lively redhead came to life on the screen. Her brows furrowed as worry gripped her. "Meg? Oh my god. Are you okay?"
You know how to have fun, Ella said, and Connor’s electric blue eyes glinted with dark amusement. No truly sane person would ever describe what they were doing to the man bound to that table as fun; but the conventional ways of having fun to most sane people were things Connor found dull, worthless. It was only when he let his knives cut through skin like butter, scarlet red tainting his fingers and coloring the floor rusty, every other sound drowned out by those whimpers of pain and despair as the smell of fear, sweat and piss overtook everything, that Connor actually felt something akin to joy. Though, perhaps that had changed as well. Used to be only the act of the kill, the thrill of watching someone pass away right in front of him, dying a horrible, lonely death that made him feel electrified; but now, there was Spencer. There was Ashley. And.. Ella. People he could share that experience with and not feel like they were encumbering him. “I do know how to party,” He retorted smoothly, voice flickering a little as that hint of Spencer came through. He wasn’t just a blank slate anymore.
Would this be her last kill? Who knows? Knowing she would be leaving London very soon, Ella didn’t want to go without having to experience the joy she found in watching one’s life dimming in his eyes. Maybe she might find a similar hobby in Iceland if she was too bored and the capital is as disgusting as London’s. One thing for sure was she was going to miss working with others. Watching Connor and Ash work with her gave Ella a surge of excitement. Not always but they’ve always managed to incite more exhilaration.
There was a small part of her that didn’t want this to stop. When they’re so close to the finish line, it only struck Ella that sometimes good things tend to pass by faster. She clicked her tongue when Connor warned her of Rattie’s state. Disappointment soured her demeanour when Ella realised she couldn’t quench the overwhelming desire to inflict more pain. Truth be told, she had more thrill and excitement torturing Mad Eyes. But that was also because it was much more satisfying to see the light diminishing from his beady eyes and knowing he had deserved it. Connor was right though, the body could only take so much pain, shocks and adrenaline rush. She glanced at her partner briefly before back to the trembling mass of flesh and bones in front of her. “I could always count on you to make such decisions,” she lamented, twirling the blade in her hand. A small smirk had hooked onto her plump lips, making the sinister glint in her teal eyes intensify. “By all means, Mr Stage, please do the honours,” she gestured to him with her knife before flicking the tip across Rattie’s face to get his attention.
“I don’t have to tell you what happens to vermin right?” she chided, flicking another incision to his skin. With another flick, Ella cut through his soiled trousers, letting it fall to the ground. The sight in front of her was more than enough to make on gag – not her though. This was physical evidence of what she could do. Glancing back at Connor as if to cue him, the tip of her blade pierced through Rattie’s flesh, just above his cock. “It’d be good to see him trying to scream with no tongue when I cut his measly cock off, wouldn’t it?” she mused out loud, mostly to herself. There was a glint of malice in her hues as she dug the knife deeper and twisted it to get a reaction out of the man. Rattie yelped… no… it was more of an exasperated cry as if to say they should just swing the axe and let him die a quick death. “It’s almost depressing at the fact that you can’t see your own skull bashed it later, Rattie. Wonder what your eyeballs would look like…” there was a hint of glee in her tone when she eyed the hammer on the table before turning back. The blade burrowed more into his flesh; Ella could almost hear the tearing of his sinew before twisting it downwards. Now, she was sawing through his flesh, a bubble of deranged giggles filling the space as she hear him screaming.
There was something beautiful about taking a life. No matter how many times he did it, it never got tiring, watching the last light see someone’s eyes; see how their faces were frozen in a mask of terror and despair. Though, that last detail wasn’t always the case. Having been in the business so long, having been ordered to kill in so many different ways, Connor had even had victims die with a smile - or with their faces twisted in a snarl of pure rage. He’d had victims who hadn’t reacted at all anymore, in the end, too numb by the pain. That had still been at the start, when Connor hadn’t quite known how far too far was. Eventually, they all went in to shock, of course. The trick was to anticipate when, so the killing strike could happen just before.
Rattie wasn’t one of those exceptions, however. He would die with his face frozen in a mask of terror and despair - snot dribbling from his nose and drool trickling from the corners of his mouth as he weeped and begged for mercy. Hell, he was pretty sure Rattie had already pissed himself as well, if the smell was anything to go by.
A small sound of triumphant hum escaped her when Connor gave her his approval. Ella met his gaze and grinned. She neared him, just enough to croon in his ear but not to overstay the welcome, “And this is why I brought you along. You know how to have fun.” Ella pulled away, shooting a sly smirk to Rattie. Every single pump of adrenaline in her being was pushing her closer to the fever pitch she craved for every time she sees her work.
She twirled the blade in her hand before winking at Rattie, “Not going to use this,” she held up the blade to him, putting her lips slightly. “I need something sharper….” Taking her time to approach the small table with their toys. She didn’t have a serrated knife like Connor did. But she had something similar even though the pain it will administer will be different. “Something…. sharp…” Her gloved fingers trailed along the steel, sharp blades, “Curved….” She finally picked a clip-point blade. “Does this look good, Rattie?” She asked, grinning when his dark eyes bugged at her, trying his best to not scream.
But that was futile for Connor pressed his nail into his raw flesh.
His strangled scream pierced through the heavy atmosphere and Ella had to bite her lower lip to prevent herself from howling out a hysterical laughter. Turning around to pay attention to her blade, Ella opened up a small compartment of her bag, revealing some fresh lemon. One would think it was odd but she had other plans. Easily cutting one open, Ella drenched the blade with its juice. The acidity would make him squirm and shriek louder than a pig going for the saw in a slaughterhouse.
Shaking off the residue juice, Ella turned to approach Connor and Rattie again. Connor had sawed off most of his fingers, thick crimson blood pouring out, soaking into the cement floor below. Their toy was trembling from head to toe, sobbing with snot dribbling down his nose, sweat glistening over his sallow skin. Wrinkling her nose in disgust, Ella neared him, tracing the tip of the blade at the side of his jaw. “Look at me.” Her gaze was iron when Rattie locked eyes with her. Grabbing his jaw with a forceful, vice grip, the blade was already at his ear, just shy from cutting the cartilage. “Remember when you twisted my ear, dragged me to the middle of the room when I was kicking and screaming?” There was mock innocence in her tone. “Payback is such a bitch isn’t it?” Ella gripped onto the handle tightly before dragging the blade downwards, cutting through his skin and the soft bone.
He jerked away from her weakly, chest heaving with the multiple attacks on his body. Cries and strangled shrieks punctured the air as Rattie felt his ear being cut off, the raw flesh and exposed nerves coming into contact with the acidic juice from the lime. And when his ear dropped to the floor, Ella could only pout. “The other’s turn,” she said in a sing-song manner, waking her way around Rattie, giddy with her own doing. She stopped at the table to soak her blade in the lemon juice again before making her way back. She culled the other ear with ease, humming her own tune as she did. Once she was done, Ella blinked, before smirking. “Oh is it time for his tongue now?” she asked no one in particular. “I wonder if you scream the same way without it.”
Ella was a lot more involved than she’d been last time, needing no spurring on; Connor knew that was because Aria wasn’t in control at all, this time — though part of him wondered whether that side of her was there, watching, and liking it as much as Ella did. She was fascinating, truth be told. No, the both of them were.
Of course, right now, that didn’t really matter. What mattered was the man bound to the makeshift cross. What mattered where the red lines Ella was drawing into his skin with that wicked sharp knife of hers. What mattered where the frightened, sobbing sounds he was making, the despair in his bawdy little eyes, the sound of his begging, the sour smell of his sweat. Connor had missed it. Missed feeling a knife in his hand, the sensation of it when it cut through skin like butter, the warmth of blood coating his hands and fingers, the coppery, salty smell of it, without feeling like a stranger inside his own skin. Missed seeing his victim’s quiet despair and the power that came with it.
Perhaps, in the end, it didn’t matter if he’d lost some of the control he’d meticulously cultivated over the years of being in this business — as long as he still felt alive, thrilled, excited and joyous while doing it, wasn’t that the main thing?
Murderers, psychopaths, paedophiles, rapists, any scum of the Earth… You name it, London has them. There will always be a need to eradicate the devils. Even if its done by devils themselves. There was a devouring hunger accumulating inside her, causing her nerves to jolt awake. Killing was never new to her. Her first kill was a means to protect the body she was occupying. The second was purely out of revenge and it was the first time Ella felt blood lust coursing through her veins, bring her to a fever pitch which was too addictive. The fear in Rattie's voice and sharp rasps were too symphonic to her ears. The utter despair in his eyes was beautiful.
If she had it her way, Ella would have plunged her blade into Ratties chest, cut him wide open and mangle his insides still she was able to gorge out his beating heart. And when the life in his eyes was about to dissipate, she'd made him watch her burn his cock and balls. That was of course, if she had worked alone. Tonight however, she had invited Connor along -- solely because Ella knew he would be much more creative in this department. Besides she had needed more spurring on and the man was capable to stoke a fire.
Ella gave a smug shrug to Connor when he remarked of the incision she had made. "Always a pleasure darling." A snide smirk had curled up her lips as Ella walked away from them, not too fary -- before turning on her heels to watch. This is the part she enjoys the most -- the torture, the screams and devastation that followed. More, she thought as she watched Connor dug his nail into the cut she had made. I want more. A bubble of sinister laughter filled the space as Connor taunted. "I've always screamers too," she crooned back, her voice almost sound childish -- like a child giddy with the sweets she had gotten for free.
Her face scrunched up at Rattie, pouting as Connor detailed what they had planned for Rattie. Ella quelled the strong urge to laugh at his pathetic face. Oh how she had loved this day -- the ability to flip the tables and know that justice would be served even though it was more than a decade late. What he had planned was delicious. Ella ket her attention to the serrated knife Connor held as he saw at Rattie thumb. Crimson blood was spewing out once he was done. Ella wished she had a blade like that.
She snorted at Connor remark, eyeing the mangled thumb on the floor. "No desire to keep rotting flesh anywhere near me," she crooned, her grin manic. "Are you going to enjoy all the sawing fun by yourself, Connor darling?" she asked, eyes on Ratties sallow skin. "Let me have his ears and tongue.... You can take the rest.. Oh and save the sawing of the crown jewels to me." Her voice was thick with blood lust even though there was a hint of glee.
"Of course." Laka smiled sadly. "I can handle that these days." And that was more or less true. If nothing else, she ate a lot better, and Liam could more or less handle whatever injuries she needed taken care of in the field. God bless him for it, he was one of a kind.
"And I promise, I will skype call you all the damn time. You’ll get tired of me. You’ll start to avoid me. Maxine will grow up thinking I’m some bizarro creature who lives in computers." She teased, resting her head on Aria’s shoulder.
"And… I mean, let’s not forget." She laughed softly. "It’s not that far of a hop by plane. I could make that trip to go to dinner with you two if I really wanted to. Which I think I probably will sometimes."
The sadness hung between them as Aria relaxed against Laka, feeling her warmth against her skin. One of the few friendships she had truly cherished, Aria was sure that no matter what happens, Laka will forever be etched in her mind. The events of the past year and a half proved that she had nerves of steel, a titanium will to live and do the right thing. Aria knew she wouldn't be able to match it up to her friend.
Chuckling lightly at her teasing, Aria shook her head, "Honestly if you keep doing that, Maxine will think you live in in a tank that needs to be switched on." The weight of Laka's head on her shoulder was comforting. And Aria's teal eyes fluttered close -- she wants to remember all of this by the time she boards the plane to Reykjavik and beyond.
"Exactly. You can even afford a jet yourself. Or... you can just ask Toby to send one of his. He surely wouldn't mind." Her fingers intertwined with Laka's, and she held it, squeezing the warm palm lightly. "To many years ahead, living apart."
"… was it really only a year?" Laka almost flinched. She felt dizzy. Only a year. In only a year, everything had changed forever. In only a year, that plainspoken girl from Jersey had died in the street, had woken up as something else with a new father by her side and physical therapy to walk again. In only a year, she’d had her heart broken more times than she could count, had been shot, had become something completely different.
"Hard to believe." She said finally, covering her mouth with her hand, as if trying to keep whatever else could come out inside. That was too strange, too upsetting. One short year. Fucking nothing at all.
Scrunching her nose, Aria shrugged, "Maybe over a year... close to two. It feels rather short isn't it?" It felt like a lifetime to be honest. It was crazy to think that all of what they had went through was limited to slightly more than a dozen of months. Aria had rose through the ranks, changed her career path, got bloody married but not before months of uncertainty and torture. Queling the urge to cringe as she thought about all the lives she had taken, Aria hoped with the absence of London and its dirty streets will compell Ella under control. It might not work but she has to try right?
She bumped her shoulder to Laka's before nuzzling her small nose to her friend's cheek. "It is hard to believe," she said softly, unsure of what to say. "But during that time, I found a true friend -- I think that's what matters." It was the simple truth and Aria wished she could do more for Laka but she had proven to be stronger than titanium. "Promise me, you'll take care of yourself and demand Skype calls from me? I know you will without you saying anything. I know I would bug you to death if you miss one call. But... I want to hear you say it.
The crunch of bone and sound of screams always felt like a twisted sort of symphony to his ears. A job got more fun in the company of someone who enjoyed that sort of sound right along with him and though Connor could admit to being biased when thinking Spencer always managed to coax out the most disturbing noises with the ideas he had running around in that beautiful mind of his, Ella wasn’t lagging far behind. He watched with a manic sort of grin as she cut into the man bound to the cross, watched with a dark gleam of hunger to his blue eyes as blood welled out of the cuts and soaked the fabric of his clothes.
Ella talked to him in a soft, sweet tone as Connor twirled the hammer in his fingers and picked up a knife of his own with the other hand. He bared his teeth in a grin awash with malice when Ella said they could get the party started, a soft chuckle leaving his mouth. “I thought it already head, dear. I quite enjoy listening to you putting the fear of god into them… even though you’re hardly god,” He clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth, circling around Rattie like a wolf circling prey. “So, how would you like to go, mate?” That frightened stare turned on him, lips shaking as the man let out a soft please. “Begging? That can be arranged.”
He brought the hammer down on the other hand, licking his bottom lip at the subsequent scream. “P-please, I-I’m sorry, I-I have children, please,” Rattie was fighting against his bindings, chest heaving with panic and distress. Connor couldn’t help but roll his eyes — as if the prospect of leaving a couple of brats without their father would stop him from enjoying the torture and death of this man. It wasn’t even that he was indignant on Ella’s behalf for her getting abused by the likes of this arse, he simply craved the violence and the blood, that electric thrill beneath his skin — wanted to see if this time would go any better than the last time with Ash. The voices in his head were still behaving, for now. “I’m sure they’ll grow up much the better without you,” He stated dryly.
Ella raised her eyebrows at Connor, chuckling lightly at his comment. "Oh we're barely getting started, love." Turning her attention back at Rattie, Ella eyed her victim with a wolfish grin, "You're going to love what we have for you." She brought the blade through his shirt, tearing it open, revealing the sallow skin underneath, hardly holding in the sad flab around Rattie's middle. "There's no one in the fucking clouds," Ella said dryly even though she was grinning. "If there is," she hissed at Rattie, teal eyes burning to hatred, "Then vermin like yourself wouldn't even exist." Ella retracted back, taking a step back as Connor circled Rattie. Watching him work fuelled Ella's lust for savagery.
The mention of his children struck a chord somewhere deep in Ella. The past few months had proved she had gone soft -- that god damn baby and her father. Tobias Hawkins may have cleverly manipulated Aria to refuse her control. But what does she care? About brats Rattie will be leaving behind? "I've changed you have to believe me! Please!" That garnered a scoff on her part. She took her time to walk up to him, eyeing his crushed knuckles and the dark crimson blood spattered across the ropes. "Empty words don't mean anything to me." Ella spoke, voice void of any emotion. She traced the tip of her blade against his throat, carefully to just nick a scratch at the end of his jawline. Rattie whimpered at the cut, sobbing incessantly -- shoulders and chest wrecking with each sob.
"You watched him," Ella said apathetically, her eyes following the tracing of her blade back to his throat. Flicking them to meet Rattie's beady hues, the blade nicked the flesh at the base of his throat, "You let him touch me with his grubby hands, both stinking of beer, reek of rotting flesh," Blood was trickling down the small wound and the buzzing at the tip of her fingers grew stronger. Rattie howled at the long cut she was making across his skin. Ella licked her lips before tracing the blade further down Rattie's sallow skin. "Did you know what I did to Sammy?" Rattie whimpered, eyes full of tears widened at the mention of his old friend. "I flayed his skin.... like a pig... He begged for mercy like you did." She stopped her blade just below Rattie's foul belly button. "Then you know what I did?" Ella asked, daring him to say something. "And then I sawed his fucking cock off." She dug the blade into his flesh, hearing the wet tearing followed by warm blood spilling against the steal. Rattie bawled, bucking against his bonds as his body went limp. Ella turned to Connor, seemingly satisfied with what she has done. "I better let you take over with this prick.... before I steal all your fun." She quirked a brow at her partner before moving away again. "Your turn, darling..."
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