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]

Married? [ he can't help it, that pulls a genuine surprised smile out of him. a pretty big one, tbh. ] You are kidding.

[slay]

Completely! [ She says in the most valley girl voice ever, as if one can be just a little bit married ?? ? She laughs about it now as she recounts, ] He didn't even invite anyone! They just ran off and did it. Then Des shows up with a ring, and— [ She shakes her head. ] It's just so classic Des.

[romanticidal]

Well, at least I did not miss a ceremony, then. I would never have forgiven myself.

... I'm happy for him. I do not know the man himself well, but it was clear how Des felt about him. He deserves such happiness.

[slay]

I don't know him all that well either, but ... [ With a fond, meaningful look up at Rafael, she makes her evaluation, nodding as she does. ] He's one of the good ones. Des is lucky.

[romanticidal]

[ he just gets kind of caught up in staring at her for a moment, his own expression growing to echo hers as he studies her features openly in a lingering beat that weighs down the conversation with something more than just gossip about des' love life ] ... He is. Let us hope he has fully realized just how much so. [ he barely hides the note of wistfulness in the unvoiced parallel, because he crit failed what do you want from him

#yallaregross]

[slay]

I think he does.

[ She steps in, slipping her hands loosely around his middle because she's too short to be casual about putting her arms around his neck. Moon eyes still in full force, she seems to step out of the goober-y parallel and set her mind back to the task of updating him about Des. ]

We should track him down before anyone ships out; we could all get breakfast or something.

[romanticidal]

I am slightly worried what Burt will show up to say next if I keep him waiting much longer.

[slay]

[ A slightly grumbled but relenting, ] Fair.

[ Her nose crinkles with dissatisfaction at the reality, and she hums out a sigh. ]

I just don't even want to think about leaving you again already.

[romanticidal]

I know this feeling. [ he runs the back of his fingers down the outside of her right arm slowly, eyes following the line of contact, as if he can hardly believe that she is there, that he has the freedom to do as much ] But it will not be forever, carina. And then-- [ he lets that trail off, a secretive smile flickering at the corner of his lips again, a hopeful flash in his eyes that's such a contrast to the guilt-ridden pain that had dominated them when they'd had a chance to first speak yesterday. that he'd been dwelling in for who knew how long. he looks transformed now, in so many little ways, just from what little time they've had here, and there's an ease to his manner while they're alone together like this that's impossible to miss, as if so many of his demons had fled while they slept.

it's not that simple, of course, but the simple intimacy of the atmosphere makes a convincing argument for it, and it's hard to find a good reason to want to dispel the illusion while it can last. there'll be plenty of time for the weight of reality outside that door. ]

[slay]

Italy.

[ She finishes, the bright light of wonder beaming in her eyes. There's a barely-restrained hum of excitement in every inch of her, and her fingers curl to grip steadily at the back of his suit jacket. In so many ways, she seems ready to just call off the next two months and zip off to the promise of Italy now. ]

Can't we just stay here? Pretend nothing outside this room matters? [ It seems like a pretty compelling argument for the time being—at least to her with her crit failed will save to pull away and leave. Here and now, her expression matches his in ease, summoning up a rarely found playfulness in direct answer to how comfortable he appears. Whatever dark cloud they'd been struggling out from under all these years dissipates, or at least parts to allow the sun in for the first time. ] Just for a few more minutes.

[romanticidal]

[ he seems equally disinclined to move, lifting his hand to her jaw now, his fingers tracing the line of it, and burying themselves back in her hair, as if he can memorize her through touch alone, take some of this peace with him when they inevitably part. ] We could... [ amusement barely masks the real longing in his voice, which softens as he adds: ] It is certainly not hard to pretend that there is nothing out there that could matter more than this. [ this smooth mf-er tho . i feel like that deserves a cha roll and he got a 22, so that seems p legit ]

[slay]

[ Dat charisma. The declaration steals Buffy's breath away, and it's with disbelieving awe that her eyes scan his face, a more restrained equal to the way his fingers map her to capture this moment. ]

I feel like any minute, I'm just gonna wake up from a really good dream. [ In so many ways, it all feels too good to be true—at least now, while she's able to ignore the cost it's come at. The pain and loss that hangs heavy in the suite upstairs. Guilt begins to gnaw at the back of her mind—how dare she find happiness while so many of the people she loves are suffering?—but as long as she remains here with him, she can keep it restrained there, subdue it. ]

You know what I just realized? [ She cants her head to the side, evaluating him with a beaming sort of pride. ] You won last night, and we never got the chance to celebrate. [ Leaning up, she kisses him softly on the cheek. ] Congratulations, Rafael Giovanni. You're a Grammy winner. That's big.

[romanticidal]

[ he smiles at her words, at the contact, and finally manages to draw away, to take a few paces as he raises one hand to tangle through the back of his own curls ] I do not know if it has even sunk in yet. Burt managed to distract me rather well at the time, and after-- [ he ducks his head, shaking his head slightly ] It does not seem to matter much, not with all we face now. Knowing what is ahead.

[slay]

Of course it matters.

[ Concern flashes, but doesn't entirely subdue the light and levity in her expression as she turns towards him. She doesn't close the distance between them, but with the way her eyes fix on him, she doesn't need to. The impression of closeness, of intimacy, is one born of the way she watches him. ]

If we don't have a life beyond this fight, then what are we even fighting for? You can't save a world you're not even a part of. Things like this are what help us do what we do. When the war's over, everyone needs something to go home to.

[romanticidal]

[ he looks grateful for the words, humbled by them in a way. he chuckles as he says: ] Let us hope Burt grabbed it then, before we left. I was in such a rush, I left it in my dressing room.

[slay]

I think if there's one thing we can count on Burt for, it's to keep his eyes on all things shiny. Chances are, it's the only thing he made sure to check on after the ceremony.

[romanticidal]

You may have a point. [ he crosses to the window, still chuckling, to glance out it ] At least he is predictable.

[slay]

In some ways.

[ She's still trying to unexperience the overshare of "side-tail." Seriously. One mock-shudder later, she follows him to the window, gazing out at the city. ]

It's weird. None of them even know what's going on right in front of them. [ The people walking below, that is. But she looks up at Rafael. ] Even Burt, with his brother.

[romanticidal]

Amid everything, I had forgot to ask more about that. [ he turns to look at her expectantly, raising his eyebrows ]

[slay]

We found Chad—the real Chad—locked in Sarandis' dungeon. Turns out Draken Crombe has been the stand-in all this time. [ She turns away from the window as she explains. ] For now, for Chad's safety, it's probably better if we don't blow the lid off the whole thing, but ... Still worth keeping an eye on. [ Her eyes raise at him like hey since you'll be NOVA guy, you can work on that, right ?? ]

[romanticidal]

I am almost surprised that they kept him alive for so long.

[slay]

Honestly? Me too. Guess he must have found a way to make himself indispensable. [ She shrugs one shoulder easily. ] Doesn't hurt to keep the guy you're impersonating around for all the little life details.

[romanticidal]

I hate to think what he has been through. What sort of state was he in?

[slay]

Not a good one. [ She shakes her head, dropping her gaze. ] He was terrified. [ Pacing away from the window, she folds her arms under her chest and hunches her shoulders. ] I think he's improving, but ... Going through something like that changes you. [ 8( Myri and Spike ..... ]

[romanticidal]

I hope he will have someone to turn to as he faces it. I do not know how open Burt will be to reconciling - even knowing that it has been Crombe this whole time. He is... very stubborn.