closed ♔ and when we collide | we'll see what gets left over

[dragonsclaw]

WHO || Failboat [closed]
WHAT || After the announcement, Jack calls a meeting
WHERE || Thomas Bancroft's room, the Castle
WHEN || 8am, the day after LA
HOW || Actionspam or prose

Solace's announcement makes the situation unfortunately plain - those who have worked to stop Blade and company for the last five years have been side-lined, and will be until this ends, one way or another.  Jack has sent out a secret communication to all members of the team, asking them to gather in Thomas Bancroft's old room, which has stood empty since his death, and is usually locked.

When they make their way there before 8am, however, they will find the door unlatched.  Jack is already inside, with Gar seated near him, one hand on his arm.  Kat leans against the wall behind Fred, who is seated in a chair.  Her arms are folded, and she's grinding her teeth back and forth.

Comments

[bigbad]

[Spike is going to angrily drive out of the castle, smoking and playing punk rock music as loudly as possible and flipping off anyone who questions him.

This is entirely normal behavior for him.]

[postergirl]

[ no one stops or sees spike peel out ]

[postergirl]

[ before he leaves tho, he gets a text ]

you're leaving, then

[bigbad]

And you're staying.

[He's disappointed, but not surprised. He likes Dumage, maybe even loves her, but there are some ways they're both fundamentally different and always will be.]

I can't stay here. I won't be made a prisoner.

[postergirl]

will people stop being so damned melodramatic? no one is a PRISONER.

[bigbad]

Says you. They're benching us. That might be all right if I trusted the new folks in charge, but I don't. And more than that, I'm tired of being lied to.

[Their own people are just as guilty of that as anyone else. He hasn't made up his mind on if he's actually staying with the team or not, but he knows he's not staying at the castle. He supposes he'll tag along until he can make up his mind.]

[postergirl]

do you actually blame them? two of our lot turned out to be working for HELL. that's not doing much for our track record.

[bigbad]

It's not about blaming them. Trust go both ways and I don't trust those vultures any more than they trust me. I listened to Wynn cause I respected him. These wankers don't.

[postergirl]

trust is for children. that's what contingencies are for.

[bigbad]

I wish I could be the one to show you that putting faith in people is worth it. If I live through this, I'll have to try.

[bigbad]

[Once he's far enough away from the castle to be reasonable sure he's not being pursued, he pulls out his phone and sends off two texts.]

Elena:

Think you can slip away for that coffee date, love?

Des:

Well? Your cell reception really all that down there?

action~

[doubletake]

[She doesn't text back. Instead, a couple of miles down the road, there's a strange noise beside him before he suddenly acquires a passenger.]

Well, this sure feels familiar. [Elena leans back comfortably in the seat, heeled feet up on the dashboard, legs crossed for 'modesty.'] Last time, I was the one driving, though. Better company this time around, too.

[She glances over at him, eyebrows lifted.]

You said something about coffee?

[bigbad]

[Spike jumps in his seat, head whipping around to look at her (reflex 18), though thankfully, he keeps his hands steady on the wheel (drive 27).]

Bloody hell, woman! I thought we'd meet there, not mid-highway!

[doubletake]

[She chuckles.]

I guess I got impatient. Besides, you shouldn't be texting and driving.

[Her head rolls against the headrest to look at him, an amused grin dancing on her lips.]

[bigbad]

I was at a stop light. [He shrugs blithely.] And if a car crash is what kills me, I deserve to go.

[doubletake]

I'm not worried about you. [He could survive a car crash, lbr.] I'm worried about the poor person you might hit.

[But she didn't think it was going to happen either way. She's just giving him shit.]

So, that didn't take long. Miss me already?

[bigbad]

Hasn't it been, like, a decade for you?

[Which is just stalling and he knows it.]

They're benching us. Well, trying to.

[doubletake]

A year or two. Much quicker than the nearly 700 between visits last time.

[Just saying. The look on her face indicates she knows that's exactly what he's doing.]

Well, that explains the getaway car. You'll have to tell me who 'they' is, though. My knowledge on the state of things inside Wynn's castle is vague at best.

Also action.....

[nothingsodivine]

[des has a lot more subtlety than Elena... also he hates being a passenger. eventually Spike will have to stop for gas and when he does, he will look up and find Des leaning against a pump.]

The cell reception’s not bad exactly. It’s that weird time thing down there. A month’ll pass in between texts, and I forget my train of thought.

[bigbad]

You know it's all written down, right?

[Spike moves to start filling up the tank. He still needs gas, even if he's having a probably very important chat.]

That's why they call it texts.

[nothingsodivine]

[he rolls his eyes.] Don't be a smartass. Some conversations are better had in person, and I'm pretty sure you didn't drop a line to ask me about my texting habits.

[bigbad]

Like I wouldn't.

[Spike is fully capable of being that much of an asshole.]

But as it happens, no. Anyone drop you a line about what's going on in the castle, or did they assume you were too busy practicing your evil laugh to bother?

[nothingsodivine]

They're all, understandably, pissed at me, so I'm not exactly getting personalized updates.

[he shrugs] But from what I do know, things must be shit.

[bigbad]

Things are always shit. But now they've benched us.

[nothingsodivine]

[Des takes a step away from the fuel tank, eyebrows knit in sudden, undeniable concern.] Benched you? Why? What went wrong this time that hasn't gone wrong before? And-and if this about Wynn, we had to leave him behind- there was no other choice. They have to realize that...

[He pauses and then groans.] Aw shit. Is this about me and Elena? Goddammit.