fandomtownies | Our Lady of Fandom; Sunday Night.

Things were weaving together nicely for Rizelle. Her collecting of potential specimens the previous night had gone well and, as the days started to reach an end, she simply sent her spiders back out to find them, to return to the little space on the neck and regain the control. First, the blonde girl, to get that friend of Rosette's to the church that it could be abandoned, drawing the nun and the priest away long enough for Rizelle to creep in, settle in, and call forth the puppet to gather. She was almost shocked that the nun didn't even seem to notice Chrono's absence, but she wouldn't let herself worry over something that ended up working to her benefit. The demon was disposed of, that was all that mattered. He was, as she could see, her only real threat.

After the puppets had gathered, Rizelle sent an order to them to make sure they acted casual, like they normally would if they were here congregated in the church, as she pulled the thread attached to John to get him to bring Rosette back for collecting.

"Are you sure you're okay, John?" the grating voice of the nun preceeded them entering the church. "You seem to be a little....out of it." He didn't have a chance to give Rosette an answer as she stepped in and blinked at all the people. "Oh, crap!" Her eyes went to Remington. "I didn't forget an important holiday or something, did I?"

"Not that I know of."

"Hey, Chrono, what's go--" Rosette blinked. "Wait, Chrono's still not back yet?"

Sneering at their confusion, Rizelle pulled the first string. Time to get this thing started and over with, once and for all.

[[ for the plotty people who know who they are. ~~Please wait for~~ OCD be up and hopefully not confusing. I've set up chatroom rizelle for organization purposes. poke me at Skylie1313 if you need an invite. Mostly we'll just need it to organize which puppets are doing what and when. *bounce* ]]

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El reloaded with the "special" bullets Fideo had given him almost a year ago.

You know armor piercing bullets?

Yes?

These are much better.

He snapped the clips into the gun and aimed up towards the ceiling, firing at where he hoped the demon was.

"You have a gun, John!" Rosette shouted through the chaos, stumbling off of Nadia and making a quick dash for the confessional, throwing open the door, scrambling for the guncase. "Use it! In the rafters! Where El is shooting!"

John fires the gun, making a decent spread where El is targeting, not sure how far apart to cluster. Human body width for now. "What'm I aming for?!"

Seeing that Thursday was attempting to get back up, Bridge gives her a hard shove in an effort to keep her down and out of the action.

Kicking back open the door to the confession, Rosette emerged, double armed with her demon-bullet loaded semi-auto and shotgun.

What? She liked to be dramatic.

"Let's see you control shit now with a head full of lead!" she shouted, letting loose toward the spot on the rafters, bracing herself against the rapid bucking of her guns.

The shove, coupled with tripping while trying to stand up, made her land hard against the wall shoulder-first. She shielded her eyes from the falling debris from the rafters.

The normal bullets were fine; then came the second bullets, which hurt a hell of a lot more. They were followed by a complete rain of piercing ones that tore into Rizelle's flesh. She let out a scream; her remaining threads yanked hard from what puppets were left and she lost her balance on the rafters, crashing to the floor. Another scream released from her as she struggled to gain footing on her spindly, spider legs. She tried lashing out at them but the pain was too great....

Maybe it was a last ditch effort to stop some of the pain, but suddenly Nadia was up off the floor, her blowtorch back on and flaming as she ran at El, full speed.

El's eyes widened and he dodged to the side. Dodging bullets was one thing, but fire? Another.

The blowtorch cut across his arm, burning away the jacket and shirt and giving him a nasty burn across the bicep.

There she was.

Rizelle had left herself far too open, and this-- this was now or never. With swift speed and precise movements, Remington made his move before Rizelle had any chance of recovery; he sped up towards the demon, and swung his sword up into a slice through her neck.

Remington had, unfortunately for her, far, far too many years of practice slaying demons, and this was usually the best method to kill the kinds he was used to.

With a twitch, Rizelle was still for a moment. Then, her body fell to the ground, and from the impact, her head rolled off. It was far from being either a pleasant or a clean sight, and as soon as he deemed himself finished, Remington withdrew his sword. The light that came from the cross he held dimmed and faded away, and without a word he set it back on to his belt.

The Remington also knew that very rarely would a demon just die right after that.

They, of course, had to talk forever before they did.

The head of Rizelle rolled on the floor, a deep, pathetic chuckling bubbling up somehow from her severed throat.

"...Do you think this is the end?" she asked, her voice broken and struggling for strength. "It isn't over yet! It's barely even started! This is just the beginning of the end! But...it's too bad I won't get to see it with my own eyes now. ...Dammit, where...where's Chrono? If he hadn't left Master Aion...Don't you know? We Sinners only have one desire. True freedom, true release. If all of the Apostles are brought together..."

Rosette blinked, half torn to just shoot this bitch in the face and tell her to shut up, and half... "Apostles?" she asked, quietly.

Rizelle chuckled. "You'd better hurry, Sister Rosette. I was supposed to bring you...to make that boy more stable. Joshua is an apostle, but he has horns....He's very easily sucked in by it. He's become a double-edged sword for us."

"It? What's it? What are you talking about?" Why couldn't she just shut up and die already!

"...Master Aion...Was I..Was Rizelle...any use to you....?"

Like her voice, the body of Rizelle slowly faded, faded...and disappeared.

Our Lady of Fandom; Sunday Night.

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