[Closed; see note] Trigger Scent Hunting

[shoplifter]

who: Laura Howlett and You
what: Laura has been afflicted with the Trigger Scent - and is ready to kill.
when: Thursday, Early Friday morning, after this unsettling post. 
where: All across Riverview.
warnings: Violence/blood, potential death (mainly NPC).
Note: If you would like to be involved, I may be able to squeeze you in; just hit me up at simpledog! I have a plurk here regarding this plot.

Laura isn't herself.

She doesn't really feel anything — see anything, think anything. It's more just an all-encompassing need to kill, some sort of mentally paralyzing fog where all she can think is that she needs to track and hunt. If you'd asked her, before the trigger scent was used, what this strange liquid was? She wouldn't be able to tell you. It's new information, something the scarce files Gabriela stole away didn't cover.

Too late now. 

She prowls through the city, her steps fast and her nose sniffing at the cooling air. She smells her targets. Some are stronger than others, closer by. Some are moving. Some are stationary. Whatever the case, she stops firstly by a local liquor store where a man is stumbling out with a beer in hand. She doesn't know him, and she won't remember that he's her first victim. Poor guy just got doused with the wrong thing, wrong time, wrong place. With him easily neutralized, she moves on to the next scent—

Likely one of you.

Comments

[shoplifter]

[Laura's brain switches gears, when the new scent hits her nostrils. The child Villanelle runs into is small for her age, tucked away in the dimness of the morning by the mouth of a back alleyway — she's crouched down over what appears to be the figure of a woman who has very clearly flown the mortal coil. Laura turns to the stalking, annoyed City Safety Officer, revealing patches of blood on her shirt and jacket.

No visible weapon, yet. But as she starts walking toward Villanelle with blood-red eyes—

Ah, andthen the claws come back out, two from each knuckle.

She looks particularly eager to reach the woman, lips curled into a snarl.]

SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER!!

[tuer]

[ oh.

whatever she'd been expecting, it definitely wasn't that. she blanches, eyebrows shooting up, and takes an automatic step back, head twisting this way and that while she looks for something to fight back with. there's a series of garbage cans nearby – she picks up a lid, testing its weight with a few short, hard swings. ]

I like your knives. Very cute. [ the girl doesn't seem to be showing any signs of slowing down, so villanelle appropriates the stance of a baseball player ready to bat, legs slightly bent, garbage can lid held over her shoulder with both hands. ]

no problem, i was a slowpoke this week too

[shoplifter]

[Laura lunges after a large leap, an animalistic hiss spitting through her teeth as she swings in a sort of literally too-sharp uppercut — she doesn't seem too worried about getting hit with the makeshift weapon, and in fact, if Villanelle doesn't keep the metal lid away from the bloody claws as they pass, she'll see that they slide through the material like butter.

Well.

This could go better.

Time to duke it out, madam.]