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

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

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. ]

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Buffy, I'm going back to Manhattan. [It's about as gentle as he can make his tone while he's interrupting her waxing poetic about California. He shoves his hands into his pockets, looking at her with an expression that's nearly sorrowful.] I can't keep living out of hotels and off Wynn's hospitality while this eats us alive out there. I need to actually, y'know, have a life outside the case.

[ Silence echoes out of the bathroom. Buffy pulls the door back open before she's even got her shirt buttoned. She stares out at him, slack-jawed in disbelief. A moment passes, and she seems to accept the facts, her gaze searching over the room, then dropping. She takes a moment to compose herself, then slowly walks out of the bathroom, hands raising to start thumbing buttons through their coordinating holes.

It takes her a few buttons to figure out what she wants to say. ] For how long? You're not— Des, look, I understand if this spooked you. It scares the hell out of me too. Finnick especially. But you can't just … We need you.

Until we move on again. [He paces the floor, avoiding her slack-jawed look.] The downtime between getting enough information to pursue a lead is months sometimes. It's been three years since this started. There's no reason I can't wait for the next lead in Manhattan. I might get more perspective on what's going on out there. Or I might not think about the potential end of the world for a few months. Whichever one strikes me. We all deserve that much. Look how much we can lose.

[He glances towards the door, staring at it, expression becoming more broken.]

Yeah.

[ Buffy's reply sounds tired, quiet. Like she's not only thinking of him in this, and not just because she's glancing through the door meaningfully to think of Finnick. ]

Yeah, I get it. I mean, what's the point of saving the world if by the time you do, you don't have a place in it anymore? [ She shakes her head, fighting a clear battle between what she knows is best for him and what she wants for herself. Even if it is only for a little while, losing her best friend in the same day she loses Rafael all over again, when Myri and Finnick are in the state they're in, it's …

And she doesn't even know about Spike yet. She draws in a deep breath and nods. ] I'm glad. It's good that you're taking some time for yourself. [ Lifting her gaze, she meets his eyes again finally, a placid smile firmly in place. It manages to narrowly avoid looking as sad as she feels, but it's certainly lacking in oomph. ] Can I … [ She shrugs one shoulder, rolling her eyes like it's not a big deal. One hand waves out to her side to pick up the nonchalance. ] I mean, can I come visit, or—?

Edited 2015-04-21 01:04 (UTC)

Sure. It won't even be in the shithole apartment anymore. [He says like that was somehow going to be a dealbreaker for her, mimicking her shrug. There's not a whole lot of oomph in what he's saying either, because he knew going into this that it was going to hurt. Even the attempts to smooth over the rough edges seem to cut too close to the surface.] Besides. You never got to see anything good when we were there last time.

I never get to see the good parts of anywhere we go. Join the Knighthood, they said. Travel the world, see the sights. While you're wringing blood out of your second Grammys dress. [ She turns to look over her shoulder, shooting a scowl in the direction of the bathroom. ] I really gotta find a way to get some armor built into those things. This keeps happening. [ All that, though, is secondary to what's really going on. She looks up at him again, straightening her shoulders. ] Have you told the others?

[His expression's mildly crestfallen as he watches her while she's explaining all of that.] Everyone but Myri. She was with Finnick when I announced it.

[He's not looking forward to telling her. The poor girl's in enough pain, but he has to make it clear to her that it's not forever and hopefully that will be enough.]

Announced it. Wow. Be a little more impersonal, why don'tcha. [ She doesn't mean to be snippy, but it comes out before she means it to: ] Got a press release you'd like me to put out for Mr. and Mrs. Odair?

I sort of got caught up in the moment, all right? [He squints a bit, struggling with something, and then sighs.] Last night was emotional for us all.

I'll say.

[ She relents a little at that, settling down to sit on the edge of the bed, loosely lacing her hands in front of her. Her shoulders hunch with the weight of it all. ]

You know how when you ride a roller coaster, even after you get off, it feels like you're still moving? [ Lips pulled into a thin line, she nods. ] I'm still moving.

Sometimes it's like that. [He walks over to the other side of the bed and perches there.] And sometimes, even after the effect's supposed to have worn off, the feeling stays, 'cause you know if you slow down, it'll start up again.

Don't make it harder on yourself, Blondie. You did real good out there. We both did. And yet... [he sighs] ... here we are, stuck on what we missed. All the bad that's still in the world.

[ An amused smile tugs at her lips as he continues. She waits until he's done, then nods with her eyebrows raised. ] Not exactly what I was getting at, but good to know I'm not the only one.

[ She shakes her head. ]

I just mean ... I'm still processing.

[He nods slowly, dragging his tongue down his bottom teeth in a thoughtful, yet awkward gesture.] Right. That makes sense.

I mean, Rafael really did win the Grammy, didn't he? [He looks back over at her, forcing a wry smile to coax her into a laugh at his pathetic attempt to find humor in that situation.]

[ It works: she chuckles, rolling her eyes a little bit to indicate her reluctance in it. But when she looks back at him, it's all fondness and warmth despite her sarcastic tone of voice. ]

Yeah, I guess he's actually not bad at this pop star business. Who knew?

[he shrugs, drawing one leg up onto the bed and wrapping his arms around it so he can rest his chin on his knee and observe her.] How's he doing, anyway?

Improving.

[ Reluctantly declared. She isn't going to be the one to spill Rafael's business to Des, not in detail anyway. She looks down at her hands, fidgeting somewhat. ]

The last couple months were ... He's been having a rough time of it. [ She looks back up at him, preempting: ] Which is still a crappy excuse for taking you off speed dial; I know. But he's getting through it.

We all have our moments. [he shrugs. whatever fears rafael may have had about des's anger seem to be exaggerated, because he doesn't look like he minds that much.] He's alive. That's what matters. everything else is history.

Yeah.

[ She wonders for a moment just how close of a call that was. He'd tried to kill himself once in Chicago, and still she's never seen him as low as he was last night. Can't imagine what the past few months were like, by comparison. She redirects her concern, studying Des before asking; ] Do you trust her? Nadia.

[he rolls his shoulders as he thinks about that.] Well. I think she's a girl in a bad situation, who'd do anything to get out of it. And I think if they were trying to fuck with us using her, they would have sent her long before now, just because of Myri and Spike. She also gained nothing talking to us like that, so...

[He shakes his head.] I trust she's not working with Blade. That's about it. Desperation like hers doesn't make easy friends, especially when Myri and Spike do trust her with everything they've got. She didn't have to work for that.

Funny. They're exactly who I'm worried about.

[ Said grimly. After all, they'll be the ones hurt the worst if this is the wrong call. She seems resolute in her wariness, reaffirmed by Des' shared opinion, particularly keeping in mind that Des doesn't know what she does about Nadia. They did try to fuck with them using her. Did, literally, fuck with them. And there's something weathered in her eyes as she takes comfort in the mutual uncertainty. ]

I just hope we're making the right call.

People have made countless calls that people- rightfully, in most cases- assumed were wrong that turned out fine in the end. I don't think we're in any worse a boat than we started. We just can't assume she won't cut and run if she's cornered.

I'm not worried about her running; I'm worried about her staying. The closer she gets, the more she can hurt us if that's what she decides to do.

[He looks at the door.] Did she come back, after all? I thought she was meeting... that one guy.

No. No, she's gone. [ Buffy sighs, getting to her feet. ] Like I said. Processing.

[ And it's not like Myri and Spike would let anyone turn her away if she did come back. ]

Is this just about Nadia? [He watches her get up, watching her carefully.] The... processing period.

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