For nine_ofswords

[the_hermit]

Summary: In which Merritt fails his will save Merritt makes a stupid decision... In which this thread ends badly.

--

Merritt goes still, something about him calming, and the smile that crosses his face is humorless. "That little 'stunt' was easy," he begins seriously, his tone becoming carefully measured.

"The Horsemen are my family, and leaving that man a drooling idiot was the very least I would do to protect them."

He's not close enough to actually, physically reach Ben, but he doesn't need to be. He swings, mentally, lashing out with a burst of magic designed to cripple.

Comments

[nine_ofswords]

While Ben does recoil as if struck, the reality around him remains unwavering. He doesn't even seem terrible concerned that his control over this place might have slipped, instead reaching up to thumb at the split that's appeared in his lip, expression incredulous as he draws his hand away and finds it bloody. When he seems to get over his surprise, he looks towards Merritt without righting his head, still turned to one side as if Merritt had actually punched him, and from the corners of his eyes.

"Oh," he breathes. "Oh." A bark of a laugh follows, as humorless as Merritt's expression. "Well, then, Mister McKinney. I do hope you said goodbye to them, because the only person that's going to be a drooling idiot when we're done here is you, I'm afraid."

Behind Merritt, bars that weren't present before swing down across the doors, effectively locking them. As Ben gets to his feet, a security grill falls into place in front of that, for good measure.

[the_hermit]

Merritt doesn't flinch when the bars come down, but he does turn to look before he looks back at Ben. "Nice trick."

He reaches out again, this time meaning to upend the couch Ben is sitting on.

[nine_ofswords]

The couch, unfortunately, doesn't move, though Ben clearly gets a sense of what Merritt just tried there, if the fact that he lets out another barking laugh is any indication.

"I don't think you quite understand the predicament you're in here," he tells him when he manages to get a handle on himself. "I did you a courtesy, making this place seem at least somewhat familiar, but make no mistake, the home field advantage is still mine." Regardless of whether or not this is Merritt's head, too, apparently.

A flash of energy, of magic follows, Ben throwing his own mental swing back at him, hoping for the same effect -- to cripple him.

[the_hermit]

Merritt makes an attempt to throw up some kind of wall of his own - but it either doesn't work or comes too late, because he reels back, dazed, his lip sporting a cut of its own, now.

[nine_ofswords]

Ben hums, pleased, and holds up a hand, waving two of the tourists, all of whom had gone deadly still when the fight started, on. They move for Merritt, hands reaching for him with single-minded purpose, trying to restrain him, and Ben takes a step forward.

"You do know what happens if I kill you here, don't you?" He leans on Merritt magically, even as he asks that, trying to keep him from being able to summon the presence of mind to answer, to fight back.

[the_hermit]

Merritt manages to shake off the pressure if not the tourists. They manage to keep their hands on him as he pulls against them. "Considering what you tried to do to Henley, I've got an idea."

He lashes out again, this time with a pulse, trying to push the projections off himself as well as landing a blow on Ben.

[nine_ofswords]

Ben opens his mouth to respond, but whatever he was planning on saying dies on his lips as Merritt's magic rattles through him. While he reaches up to press his fingers between his eyes, briefly, however, it seems to have no effect beyond that. The projections pull Merritt's arms behind him, holding him in place; the scene around them remains untouched.

When he drops his hand, he manages, "Yes, well." A beat. "Enjoy the fire." And another, though when he speaks this time, it's to address the projections. "Kill him."

Ben turns on a heel, that said, heading in the direction of where he indicated the bar might be, the crowd of tourists and hotel staff parting for him and then surging back into place as he passes. One of the projections with his hands still on Merritt, meanwhile, pulls a pen out of one of his pockets and lunges at Merritt with it.

[the_hermit]

Merritt glances at the tourist as they lunge at him - and yanks hard away from them. The pen slides through open air, managing to break free of the hand they kept on him - but the other keeps their grip, keeping his arms pinned. "For fuck's sake," Merritt growls and takes another, stronger mental swing at them both.

[onebehind]

Both projections recoil, the one still holding onto Merritt actually dissolving into a pillar of dark smoke without Ben there to hold it together and at such close range. The other, unfortunately, manages to hold itself together and get itself together and comes at Merritt again, the swarm on the other end of the lobby moving all at once, too, presumably to join the fray.

They all freeze again, however, when the elevator doors ding open, breaking the silence beyond the shuffling of feet.

Dylan steps out a second later, making a quick assessment of the situation, something behind his eyes wild, worried, and then he's darting for Merritt -- or, more accurately, the projection behind him. Pushing him away, hard and fast enough to slam him against the security grate behind him, Dylan peels back before he skids into it himself and turns to face Merritt. "We're gonna have a talk, when we get out of here, but right now, we need to move."

[the_hermit]

Merritt goes still when the projections do, pulling up a wall against whatever might be coming next - and then huffs out a breath as he rolls his shoulders against the remains of the strain the projections put on his arms. "Looking forward to it."

To both parts of that, actually.

[onebehind]

"We'll see." The talk they have, if and when they get out, will not be a pleasant one, most likely.

For now, though, he tosses a glance back over his shoulder, shakes his head faintly as he seems to decide they won't be getting out that way, at least not right now, and raking his tongue over his teeth, takes another look out over the lobby. There's a hallway, not too far off of where Ben was sitting, and while he has no idea where it leads, he figures it's their best bet. Maybe, if nothing else, they'll be able to lose the swarm of tourists, who, now recovered from his sudden appearance are on the move again.

"Go," he hisses at Merritt, with a nod in that direction. He's FBI and not as ground down as Merritt is. He figures it'll take Merritt longer to get where they're going, and he'd really rather not leave him in the dust, if he takes point.

[the_hermit]

He gets that, but he brought it on himself doing this. He just appreciates the back-up, right now.

Merritt doesn't hesitate at Dylan's direction and starts down the hallway, barely registering the guest room doors he passes as he glances back over his shoulder to make sure Dylan is still able to keep up with him, that the projections aren't too close.

[onebehind]

Dylan keeps pace easily, the projections less so, if only because that many people trying to move down a hallway at the same time creates a bottleneck, buying them time. It may have been what Dylan was counting on, but even if it was, he doesn't let himself slow, not yet. Instead, he continues herding Merritt along.

"Stairs," he calls, as they come up on the door for them. Heading up won't get them out, he knows, but having their pick of floors means they might be able to find somewhere and hide, catch their breath, decide on how to get out of here.

[the_hermit]

Merritt ducks quickly and immediately through the door to the stairs, hanging back to hold it for Dylan - and then slamming it behind him and reaching out to jam the lock into place with a burst of mentalism. Even before it starts rattling as the projections attempt to follow, Merritt turns to start up the stairs.

"Pretty sure this is what I usually yell at people not to do in horror movies," he tosses off as he climbs, though he's not actually objecting to the plan.

[onebehind]

"You wanna stop, go back and fight, like, twenty guys while I work on the door, just say the word," Dylan shoots back as he follows. "Otherwise, pick a floor and pray we can lose 'em for a little while."

And that they don't reconvene in the lobby, if and when they can't find them.

[the_hermit]

"Pass," Merritt returns, continuing up the next flight but then stopping at the third floor to carefully pull the door open. He glances out briefly, peering around the edges. "No creepy tourists so far," he tells Dylan as he opens the door fully and steps out onto another hallway of guest rooms.

[onebehind]

Grunting in lieu of a proper response, Dylan follows him out into the hallway, otherwise silent. He throws a glance down the hallway, hesitating, as if he expects their luck, so far, to change, and every door on this floor to open, spilling more tourists onto them. After a beat or two of relative calm, however, he relaxes, albeit marginally, and turns back to the door, pulling it shut more quietly than Merritt did with the last one, perhaps, but with the same pulse of magic at the end, effectively jamming the lock.

When he turns back to Merritt, it's to grab one of his arms and start hauling him down the hallway. "C'mmmon."

[the_hermit]

Merritt glances back as Dylan jams the door - and then lets himself be pulled a few steps. "I'm not planning on hanging around and waiting on them," he does bother to object to being manhandled, but it's not like he wasn't going to follow him anyway.

[onebehind]

With a look torn between irritation and apology, wound up as he is and for being as wound up as he is, he lets Merritt go, then continues to move down the hallway. He stops a handful of steps later, in front of one of the many, uniform doors, and, after casting a look back in his direction, reaches for the handle, fore and middle fingers rubbing against his thumb. A spark jumps from his hand as he touches it to the handle, and when he tries it afterwards, it opens without effort.

Peeking his head in, his shoulders tense all at once, posture unmistakable as wishing he had his gun in this instance, more comfortable with it, when clearing a room, than anything else. When he finds it empty, he relaxes again but again not in entirety, and steps inside. He doesn't bother making sure Merritt follows, not after that protest, and not when there's more to check, to make sure they're alone, than just the tiny living area the room immediately opens into.

[the_hermit]

Merritt stays close on Dylan's heels, glancing back over his shoulder occasionally and staying alert for any sounds indicating someone might be following them. When Dylan opens the door, he ducks in behind him, turning to lock and bolt the door before he huffs out a breath.

"I don't think anyone's in here," he whispers faintly. He doesn't feel anyone, anyway, but he's also not going to relax too much until Dylan clears the place.

[onebehind]

Again, Dylan responds with a sound of agreement rather than words. He's pretty sure there's no one here, either, but better safe than sorry.

Thankfully, he finds nothing, that much clear an instant before he says as much, his shoulders slumping the rest of the way and all at once. "Alright. That should buy us some time."

[the_hermit]

Merritt finally relaxes marginally, too, letting out another breath as he finally steps away from the door, moving to sink down into one of the arm chairs. He still doesn't relax fully, perching on the edge in case he needs to get up in a hurry again. He's not as young as he once was, after all.

"Sorry, by the way," he offers after a moment, still quietly. Even if they don't have this full conversation now, he wants to say that first. "I had to find out who this asshole was."

[onebehind]

Dylan props himself against a wall, nearby, and as Merritt starts, huffs out a breath, the sound almost a laugh, and shakes his head. It takes him a moment beyond that to find his words, as he didn't exactly have a monologue prepared for this moment, even if there are a few things he's sure he needs to say.

"Yeah, well. Congratulations," he offers, to start. A beat and then, "How the hell'd you even find him again?" Seems to him like it was a little too easy.

[the_hermit]

Merritt breathes out a wry laugh of his own and then shakes his head. "Asshole knows how to get in people's heads while they're asleep somehow. I'm guessing the fact that I actually wanted him in mine was enough to summon him or whatever."

[onebehind]

Dylan gives him a look that seems to suggest that he's not sure he thinks it works like that but doesn't actually say as much. Instead, he's silent for another long moment, thoughtful, before venturing, "Or maybe he's still watching the suite."