Two minds and one world to destroy.. {Open}

[Julian Jackman]

He had to get back to his apartment before it was too late.

Talk about a great way to start of the night, right? No, he couldn’t be wondering what he’d eat, if he’d brave the ex to talk to his kids, or if he should catch the game or go to bed early. He couldn’t be wandering down the darkened street, smiling at happy couples and dwelling on that bitter twang in his chest?

Nope, he wasn’t allowed to do any of that. Not if he wanted to make sure that there wasn’t a triple homicide in the near future. Detroit had already had their fair share of bloody, animal-like maulings; New Orleans had been through enough with Katrina. He couldn’t subject it to more devastation.

…Nor could his conscience stand yet another lost soul. But that was a story for another time.

Hurrying down the street as fast as he could, with a bum leg and one helluva headache, Dr. Julian Jackman, local security expert, careened to a stop just as a taxi rounded the corner. He glared after the driver, lips pulling back in a grimace at the answering horn, and continued on his way. So far, so good, he thought with a grim chuckle. His apartment was another ten minutes away, but he still had time. Thirty to ten; plenty of time to get back and strap himself into the ‘punishment chair.’

His other half had been bad the other night; leaving him to wake up next to a drugged out hooker who looked less 18 than her license claimed. He’d made sure that she wasn’t about to OD and called an ambulance, sure to wipe the surfaces of the seedy motel room, but his dark side had broken the rules.

And there was just no living in their current situation without the rules. Thus, Billy had to be punished.

Grim determination pulled his lips down in a severe frown, and he picked up the pace. He could practically feel the other waking up, rolling around in his head like an impatient child. Upon dual agreement, they’d decided not to listen in on each other’s thoughts when it came time for the switch, and he was grateful for the freedom. If Billy found out that ‘Daddy’ was aiming to strap him down to an iron chair for the night, he’d find himself forced into unconciousness.

Naughty, naughty Junior. But what could he expect from a spoiled child?

“Help! Oh, my God, he’s not breathing!” A panicked voice cut through his thoughts, and he pulled up short in front of a homey apartment. A little boy lay still beneath a front yard tree, whom he assumed was his mother bending over him. Habit made him stop, assess the situation, come to some medical conclusions…

And hesitate. Dammit, he didn’t have time for this! He glanced down at his watch; 9:45 and ten more blocks to go. Why had he loaned his car to his coworker the other day? He was torn, knowing that if he wasted his time, the monster would come out without restraint. But the mother’s panicked cries, the sight of the small child cradled in her arms…

God, life would be easier if he didn’t have a damn conscience.

With a curse, he flung himself onto the scene, barking out the customary ‘I’m a doctor’ as he went to work. He had to restart respiration and heart beat; combat the shock of the fall and make sure that the kid didn’t bleed out internally. He ordered the mother to call an ambulance, and she complied with the swiftness of a soldier. He kept his compressions gentle, not wanting to force a rib into an already blood-filled space, breathed into the kid’s mouth, and waited for a response.

Finally, it came. With a gasp, the little boy shuddered, drawing air into his lungs. Julian turned him on his side, murmuring comforting words as the mother returned. She was crying into the phone, which dropped to the ground as she snatched up her baby from his arms. The sounds of police sirens could be heard on the horizon. His work was done.

…And time was up.

Eight…seven…six. The timer on his watch beeped a mournful song and he broke out into a run, ignoring the confused voices from behind him. Maybe if he just made it to some abandoned building, just a bit farther, he could hide out in the basement. He could find some ropes, tie himself to a beam, pray for sunrise—

Familiar pain lanced through his belly, and he doubled over, coughing. Frantic, he spotted an alley and forced himself to move toward it. Maybe he could jump into a dumpster and lock himself in? Or a sewer. Get lost in the underground maze and…
Another spasm hit and he dropped like a sack of potatoes. Good God, he hated this. Hated the night. The evil, annoying, bastardly…

Crawling to the dumpster, he used it as leverage to haul himself up, breath coming out in harsh gasps. Little pinpricks of darkness were dancing in front of his eyes, even as he fought to stay awake. Brown eyes were slowly morphing into unfeeling blue, his dirty blond curls going black underneath the pale street light.

With one final beep from her watch, Julian fell asleep screaming.
And Hyde woke up.

Straightening, he shoved at a few black locks that streamed into his face, squinting at the blurry world in front of him. “Ugh,” Came the irritable snarl as he rubbed at his temples. Wow, the world was so fuzzy! And…dark. Why was it dark? Had Daddy taken him somewhere fun to play?

Something caught on the dumpster, and he frowned. No, that wasn’t fun, just smelly. He looked down at himself as he stretched and did a double take.

Ralph Lauren shirt? Neatly pressed pants? Sensible shoes? Lucifer’s balls, he was a nun! But he could work with it. He always did.

“Mmm, finally, a breath of fresh air,” He purred, blue eyes flickering up to look at the stars. He stretched her arms over his head, laughed into the night and skipped out into the city. The colorful lights of a nightclub flashed in front of him, and an unnaturally wide smile pasted itself onto his face. Yay, his two favorite things: booze and women!

“Time for some fun, I think.”

[elise]

It was a terrible night. Too many dumbass college brats. Whiny little Sorority girl teases with their stupid matching outfits that looked down their prissy little noses at her. Cocky, attitudinal Frat boys that had too much money and not enough sense. The way they looked at her as she slung drinks made her skin crawl. As if just because they had money and didn't have to lower themselves to the level of a working schmoe that made them better. As if they could have a chance with her because they thought her just some piece of white trash that would bone anyone that tossed her a good tip.

As-fucking-if!

The music sucked as well. Too much of the popular stuff that the prissy little blondes tried to shake their thing to with less rhythm than a drippy water faucet. They ought to pay the DJ extra for the lights show that helped hide some of their bad moves.

The good thing though was that with the tight little black booty shorts she wore and the off the shoulder, shredded t-shirt, and thigh high black boots the horny college boys sure gave big tips. She had no problem taking them for all they were worth. That long red hair was straightened out and parted in the middle tonight, large silver bangles in her earlobes, as usual.

She knew that showing off her best assets got her bigger tips and, she had to admit to herself that was somewhat satisfying to see the irritation in the rich bitches faces when their dates ignored them to drool over the rock hard body she worked hard at maintaining. Ripped abs, firm thighs, shapely...curves. Hours upon hours in the gym made her body the temple that it was, even if she defiled it with the whiskey she threw back, barely feeling it as the Frat boys at the bar cheered and ordered another round for them all and her.

As long as they were paying she was pouring. Most comments were ignored. She'd already gotten a few warnings from the bar owner about pissing off the clients, not to mention that one incident where she'd lost her temper and threw some dick through the front window.

Another round of shots was poured in a row, the bottle twirled expertly in her deft fingers before she tossed it behind her and caught it in the other hand without looking and set it back in it's place under the bar. Shot glasses sped across the polished mahogany bar top to each of the cheering Frat boys. With a smirk she picked up her own shot glass and raised it, a toast coming to mind as she cleared her throat, ignoring the two college chicks at the end of the bar on purpose.

"The men in college,
The he-men and the wrecks,
They do a lot of talking
About drinking and about sex.
Now it's been observed,
In spite of what they boast of,
That between the drinking and women
Drinking is what they get the most of."

She slammed back her shot and set the little shooter upside down on the bar top as the DJ began to spin a good song at last. At the first few strains of the guitar riff she gave a loud whoop and grabbed the brass pole that ran up from the bartop and pulled herself up to stand on the bar.

Most folks only remember it in that movie but here in New Orleans it was kind of a tradition to have certain songs that invited the women up to dance on the bar. This just happened to be one of them for this establishment. It wasn't only encouraged but expected and other patrons that were familiar with it cheered as other gals also climbed onto the bar to dance as AC/DC came from the speakers and vibrated through the room.

"She was a fast machine
She kept her motor clean
She was the best damn woman that I ever seen
She had the sightless eyes
Telling me no lies
Knockin' me out with those American thighs
Taking more than her share
Had me fighting for air
She told me to come but I was already there
'Cause the walls start shaking
The earth was quaking
My mind was aching
And we were making it and you -
Shook me all night long
Yeah you shook me all night long

Hair and hips swinging, holding the brass pole for support in her high heeled boots on the slick bar top as much as she held it for the effect it had, Elise dropped jaws as she moved, writhing and grooving. One hand slipped up on her hair as she did a little serpentine roll of her body to the front slowly to the music with a slight pelvic pop at the end.

Oh yeah.. tips were gonna be good tonight.

[Julian Jackman]

Oh, how much fun tonight was going to be! All the booze, the smoke, the practically naked women and girls alike! He could just smell the sex in the air, and he got ‘happy’ just thinking about what kinds of trouble he could get into. Oh, how he loved the night and all of its perks.

It was like the night was a little shade was pulled down over the world, hiding all of the seedy pleasures that it afforded. He could drink, he could fight, he could fuck ‘til the cows were carried home in pine boxes- hee, funny analogy!- and in the morning, nobody would know!

Especially not his Daddy. Things always got real sad when Daddy knew about what he did, ‘cause he’d get punished. He didn’t like getting punished.

But none of that now! Oh, this place had so much potential. All of those shaking asses, so ripe for the squeezing, the grinding…

With a wide smile on his face, he leaned forward to take some handfuls of said cheeks, much to the surprise of a dancer. Seeing the crazy face behind her, the poor girl immediately went for her date, wrapping her arms around him. Aw, that was no fun! She was all pretty-like, and breakable—

His eyes traveled up to the bar and the lady dancing on it, and all thoughts of said girl were forgotten. Like he was hypnotized, he moved toward her; those swiveling hips and gyrating…waist. Aw, man, he’d really chosen the BEST fucking bar in town tonight! He smacked his palms down onto the bar counter, intent on pulling himself up and get at that delicious morsel, but a voice stopped him.

“Hey, fucktard!” It yelled from behind him. The crowd had instinctively moved away, thanks to the natural ‘crazy mofo’ vibes he usually put out, but now they were farther. He turned, seeing the girl from before’s very buff date standing behind him, his face haughty. “I saw you fucked with my girl. You’re gonna pay for that?”

“Ooh, you must really wanna die. Too bad; I don’t really like killing children.” He couldn’t help but chirp back, smile fixed on his face. Bad, bad voice; distracting him from the piece of candy above him. He wanted to play, not to talk!

So, in the end, everything was hunky-dory when he whipped a hand out, faster than any hand should move, and brought the poor guy’s face to his up-bent knee. A crack, a scream that was swallowed in the music, and he was back to pushing himself up onto the bar.

“Helloooooo, beautiful!” He said happily, completely unaware of the blood on his pants. “I like the way you dance. Wanna play lions and feel some love tonight? Pleaaase?”

[elise]

Elise watched with cool detachment the little skirmish below her, seeing the gleam in the man's eyes as he knocked the Frat boy out. But her eyes narrowed at how fast the man moved. That just wasn't.....normal.

Neither was the John Wayne Gacey gleam in his eyes. But she didn't stop him as he came up to dance on the bar, turning toward him and giving him the cool once over, eyebrows raising as she took in the blood on his knee. But then those lovely eyes of hers were rolling at the pick up line and she shook her head.

"Son? You gonna have ta try harder den dat. I aint some dizzy college gel to fall for a pretty face and a bold move." she called over the music , her New Orleans accent coming through as she moved to turn away from him, not really wanting to take her eyes off him but feeling reckless.

Stepping over a few drinks as she moved she turned her bak to the crowd as she held the pole for support, bending low from the knees with her back straight. before coming back up slowly. Men were lining up at the bar and she grinned to herself as she watched them in the mirror behind the bar.

That was until she saw one reaching for her and snatched a mug of beer from the bar before dumping it over his head which pissed him off but made the others laugh.

Looking down at him she smiled. "You can look cherie...but no touching. Besides... you couldn't afford to pay me off." She made a small sign in the air, a hex of sorts to work should the man try to save face and retaliate. The locals knew to be fearful of those subtle hand gestures but the drunk Frat guys? They weren't so smart.

There was a short glance sent to the man on the bar top once more as the song ended and with a small spin she hopped down from the bar to land behind it again, all those delightfully feminine jiggly bits doing what they are apt to do. A small smirk was on her lips as she began filling the drink orders that came pouring in from the men trying to shout over one another.

[Julian Jackman]

Oh yay, a sassy lioness! He really did love it when the girls went and dissed him; it told him that there would be a chase somewhere in the future. He did love chasing things. Easy women were good and all, and the skanks up for sale on the street corners offered one helluva nice time- and a little treat for Daddy, every now and again…hehehe- but there was nothing like actually having to work for the night’s meal. There was just something so…primitive about winning.

And he loved to win. Loved, loved, LOVED it.

Just like the aforementioned frat boys, Billy didn’t understand those strange hand movements that the pretty woman made. He knew that there was power in them, that the little vibrations that crawled over his skin meant something, but it only made him smile wider. She wasn’t going to be like those other girls who made him work on the charm. She was gonna be FUN. Lots and lots of fun.

Hopefully he wouldn’t have to kill her. That would be a shame.

With that same gleeful smile on his face, Billy proceeded to kneel down on the bar counter directly in front of the moron who’d tried to steal a grab. While he knew that the bouncers wouldn’t appreciate his meddling- he was already getting some murderous glances from the bartenders- he just could NOT pass up some good bloodshed. Life was too short and all that, right?

“Yeah, no touchy. It’s not nice to unless she says it’s okay…or if she screams loud enough.” As the drunk kid proceeded to stare up at him with an obvious ‘huh?’ the psychopath proceeded to show him what would happen to people who didn’t appreciate personal boundaries…whatever the hell those were.

The poor man’s nose didn’t do so well against the hard wood of the bar. With a howl that practically echoed through the noisy room, the kid stumbled back, holding onto his bleeding forehead and gushing nose. Clapping, he giggled with utter joy, even as the frat boy’s friends yanked his feet out from under him and hauled him off of the bar.

Fists flew, and each punch was absorbed with even more laughter. He could feel his lip split and his nose pop out from where it should have sat, but he didn’t care. It felt GOOD to be awake, and all this fighting was so much fun! He let the kids have at it for a bit, but he was never very good with patience. When they paused in their beating, winded, the crowd backed off and bouncers fighting to get their way, Billy smiled.

“My turn, boys! It’s SHOWTIME!”

Which was about the time that bodies started to fly through the air, landing on the crowd like huge pieces of confetti. The boys screamed, each sporting one hole or another in some part of their anatomy, and suddenly, the authorities had more pressing things to worry about than a single fight.

Turning back to the bar, he leaned over to grin at that buxom tease, his mouth bloody and teeth a bit stained. Turning his head- he laughed as the crowd immediately surged away- he spat out a hunk of cloth and blood, wiped his mouth on his sleeve and turned back.

“I could use a drink when you gotta minute, sexy. Got a bad taste in my mouth that I can’t place…oh yeah. Kinda tastes like beer and smoke. Ew.”

[elise]

The witch watched out of the corner of her eye as she flipped a bottle behind her back and caught it without looking before pouring the vodka over the ice cubes in the glass and handing it over to the man who ordered it.

She shook her head as she watched him bash grabby boy's face to the bar. Had she attracted some kind of psychotic Lancelot?! It pissed her off vaguely that he thought she couldn't handle her own business though and she put her hands on her hips glaring till the other frat boys pulled him off the bar to the floor and began to pummel him.

Oh hell no! That aint goin down on her watch!

At least not without her getting a piece of the action.

But as she moved to spring up over the bar the bodies started flying and screams filled the club as fights began to break out everywhere. The poor schmoe she'd hexed still wasn't able to fight back without going through some serious pain. He finally gave up and took off for the door. There was a small shrug of her shoulders, it would wear off after tonight.

At least she was pretty sure it would.

Her head shook slowly as she watched the maniac turn to her, laughing and covered with blood, his nose still out of joint as he smiled at her and ordered a drink.

"You got a death wish chere?" she asked as she reached over the bar and grabbed his nose between her thumb and fingers, giving it a hard tug to put it back in place and cause him a little pain in the process. Hey, she could get away with that much and call it being helpful. It shouldn't get her fired at least.

But as she drew her hand back a glass when flying toward her head making her duck as it crashed into the mirror behind her and shattering into a million pieces, breaking the mirror as well.

"SON OF A BITCH!" she shouted as she looked for the source of the throwing.

Her temper up she barely glanced at Billy as she vaulted over the bar in a smooth motion, muscles flexing and gliding with practiced ease. "That drink'll have to wait..I got someone's ass to kick." she growled.

Without looking back she began to make her way through the crowd, shoving people out of her way and punching those that wouldn't move in swift and effcient strikes meant to disable.

Grabbing the man that had thrown the glass by his collar she yanked back hard making him stumble just as he threw a punch toward her face. A fast duck avoided it as she bent under the fist and brought her leg up over her head in a windmill motion to kick the guy in the face with her high heeled boot. Rising quickly she brought her elbow into his throat hard before her left open palm struck his solar plexus.

Her moves were fast, almost second nature to her. She knew her body temperature was rising, knew she was losing her temper in the crowd of people fighting even as the man that threw the glass crumpled to his knees, eyes bulging out of his head as he held his throat, trying to get a breath. He'd pass out but he wouldn't die. She'd learned to control herself enough to reign it in and be non lethal.

But her gifts were reacting to her temper as she looked around her, tiny flickers dancing in her eyes. She had to squeeze her eyelids shut tight. it wouldn't do to set the whole place on fire, even if it was incredibly tempting. With her eyes closed she didn't see the man that had been punched and was falling in her direction, hitting her back and making her stumble forward a bit, losing her bearings for a split second.