CHAPTER FOUR ♔ does it run in your blood to betray the ones you love

[coldheritage]

♬ The Truth - Nonpoint

WHO || Failboat, Rafael, Isabella, Nadia  [Closed]
WHAT || After an exciting Grammy night, the Knights meet up with Nadia to hear what she has to say
WHERE || Staples Center, LA -->  Warehouse
WHEN || Feb 8th, 2015  [back dated]
HOW || Actionspam

[  The Knights' mission to stop the signal and prevent Draken's cult from spreading whatever subliminal message  was lurking beneath Keijen Blade's performance was a success.  It didn't come without its bumps in the road, however:  Alexander Anderson showed up, and the Knights ran afoul of the Mind Master.    Buffy nearly died fighting Anderson, but in the end, he was defeated, beheaded, and hopefully put to death forever.   Finnick, though, found himself thrust into a mental illusion that convinced him he might still be in the Hunger Games, and left him uncertain about whether any of his life here was real.  

Another surprise came in the form of an announcement by Nadia Reichenov, an artist working with Crombe and company, that she was changing her band name and taking things in a 'new direction'.   This direction was perhaps revealed when after her performance, she approached the Knights in Rafael's dressing room - and handed them the necklace that connects her to the Nightmare God Malaak'a, saying she was willing to tell them everything.  ]

Comments

[romanticidal]

[ his arms wrap tightly around her waist, pulling her tightly against himself, as if trying to reassure himself that the moment is real. when he has, he leans his cheek against her hair, quietly saying: ] If you will hear it, I have something of an idea.

[slay]

Is iiiiiiiit ... [ She drags it out with mock thoughtfulness, eyes rolling upwards to peer at the stars off the corner of the balcony, ] Violent, dangerous, or otherwise likely to deprive me of sleep?

[ Who is she kidding? Even if it were all of the above, she'd still jump for pretty much anything Rafael suggests in a heartbeat. ]

[romanticidal]

It may well be. [ he fails at letting go, whoops, even as he looks askance at the sky as well. ] Or perhaps for once it will be none of those things.

[ he looks back down at her, clearly uncertain of what her answer is going to be but encouraged nonetheless ] My tour is nearly over, and I feel that it may be a good way to spread the same message that Nadia intends to, that I should see it to the end.

But when it is over... I had business in Italy to see to, a few personal matters.

Perhaps you will come with me - only the two of us.

[slay]

[ The zippy sass drains out of her expression, leaving her slightly awestruck as he drags out the invitation. Her eyes search his for a brief instant before she quickly answers, ] Yes.

[ As if it's not even a real question. (And it's not—how could she say anything else?) She composes herself a moment later, smothering that breathless earnestness with a slow inhale, nodding until she can give a more articulate answer. ] I mean, as long as Wynn doesn't have me assigned somewhere, I— Yes. Definitely yes.

[ Her head tilts slightly to the side, a guilty, cringing smile creeping onto her face as she adds one condition: ] Just … maybe not Rome.

[romanticidal]

[ that prompts a sudden chuckle from him that almost sounds unburdened for a moment, finally drawing his arms away slowly. ] ... Si. I think perhaps we will stay far from there.

[slay]

[ Her nose crinkles as she notes, ] Good. Not that I didn't love the place, but two dead priests between us might be pushing our luck.

[ Maybe she's just jinxed it by pointing it out. WHO KNOWS. But her attention drifts back to the door. Right. Sleep. That thing. Her hands settle against his chest, smoothing the lapels of his jacket, and she takes a breath, huffing it out. ]

Well, Nadia said she's going to stay until some meeting at 3. I don't know if you wanted to stick around, or … [ The glance upward she shoots him seems pretty committed to following his lead, though. ]

[romanticidal]

Three, actually. [ DON'T FORGET WHY THEY CAME AFTER HIM IN THE FIRST PLACE ] I... think perhaps I should. Isabella might return to our hotel, and I think it best I give her space, until she wishes to see me. [ the reminder drops his smile, but he reaches to take one of her hands up in his, pulling it once more to his lips, closing his eyes as he lights a longer, more lingering kiss there ] And I would not miss what time we have together before I must return to traveling once more.

[slay]

[ OH SHE FORGOT TO COUNT THE ONE THEY MURDERED ON THEIR WAY OUT. That's … romantic. She clears her throat at the correction because ahahahaha bonding. Good memories … or something …

Luckily, that all gets buried under him being a big fucking goober and pressing a kiss to her hand. Short of breath, she holds his gaze in silence, then slowly raises that hand to cup the side of his face. Her thumb traces along his jawline and she studies his features for an intimate moment, but then she pulls herself together and focuses on what they were talking about. This is what an abysmal will save with a hella mod looks like.





What were they talking about? #Fuckstruck.

She blinks quickly to collect herself. ]

Mi casa es tu casa. [ She invites without further prompting. #CaliforniaSpanish. Look, he gets one free "Get Out of Rapist Interaction Free" card, and then she's tying him to the bed. Not literally. ] How long do you have left on your tour, anyway? Enough time for me to cozy up with Rosetta Stone and figure out the Italian way to say the house thing?

[romanticidal]

[ insert however many months we need to timeskip to catch up to present which is like... 2????????? currently??????? w/e. says that. ] I can always teach you more when we go to Italia.

[ he glances back at the glass doors, expression clouding momentarily as he hesitantly admits: ] I would rather not see her again, if you understand. But I do not want the others to draw conclusions if you are offering me your room. [ his eyes dart back towards hers, clearly concerned ] I am sure they think ill enough of me already.

[slay]

They're gonna think what they wanna think. [ As stubborn in comforting him as she is in all things, Buffy raises her other hand to cradle his face. ] Let 'em. I'd rather have everyone think the worst of us both than have you be alone while she's still around.

[ Deciding maybe she shouldn't just bulldoze his opinions, she nods and relents somewhat to offer, ] But if it would make you feel better, we can go downstairs and book a separate room. [ One shoulder shrugs. ] I'm usually out until everyone's asleep anyway. [ #SlayerLife #HowManyHashtagsCanIFitinmyTags Her diplomacy was only 23 because she literally cannot be assed to care like honestly fuck everyone's opinions at this point in time she almost died and killed two people and Rafael got raped ? ?? fuck them ?? ? ?? ]

[romanticidal]

[ well his will save was a 21, so while he's still notably hesitant to fuck buffy's rep all up in her friends' eyes, he also ... thinks that sounds like a good compromise, maybe. and nods slowly, finding some relief in agreement. ] We could do this, si.

[slay]

Okay. [ An understanding nod comes, and a reassuring smile flickers on her mouth. ] Let me just check on Myri, and I'll tell her we're going out.

[ Awkward beat. Wow given their goal to make themselves not look like trash in all of this, that phrasing could have been better. ]

I mean, not— Going out. Because we're not. [ She gestures quickly between them with splayed hands. ] Obviously. But … leaving. That we're leaving.

[romanticidal]

Si, certo. [ he looks down at the correction, the smile very slight on his lips, amusement at the slip, tempered by the reality of the situation. ] I will wait in the hall, then.

[slay]

Wait!

[ She plants a hand on his chest to stay him. ]

One thing first.

[ That hand then slips into his jacket pocket to pull out his phone because she just assumes he's keeping it where he always does—and he is (wis 16).

She unlocks it and dials quickly, lifting it to her ear to listen for the dial tone. A ringer goes off in her purse inside, the tinkling pop music echoing through the glass door that separates them on the balcony. She ends the call and holds it out for him to take, canting her head to the side. ]

[romanticidal]

[ he looks a bit sheepish as he takes it back and slips it into his pocket once more ] ... It was Burt who insisted we change our numbers, you know. I held him off for a month or so, but he was very... adamant about trying to protect me. [ there's an apology in there, unspoken, but clear in his guilty tone of voice ]

[slay]

'Course he was.

[ She can't help but roll her eyes breezily. At this point, there's no point in being more pressed than that, and it's Burt. Being pressed never gets anybody anywhere with him. It makes a certain amount of sense, given how he'd stonewalled Des. ]

When she's talking to me again, I'll apologize to Isabella for assuming the worst of her. [ Because that's definitely where she'd laid the blame from the moment that announcement at the Grammys happened. Apologies all around. She drops her hands and steps out of his way to the door, pulling it open for him. ~Chivalry.~ ]

[romanticidal]

None of the fault for this lies with Isabella. On this, you can trust me. [ he'll swan in on that note, and leave her to talk to myrichan, lightly brushing one hand against her lower back by way of temporary farewell as he peels off for the door ]