knightsoflegend | TRAVEL ♔ you can forget there's a world outside yourself

Entry tags:

TRAVEL ♔ you can forget there's a world outside yourself

WHO || Thomas, Christos, Luthir, Arthur, Merlin, Katniss, Ethan [Closed]
WHAT || The Flight back to Knights' headquarters
WHERE || On the jet
WHEN || Saturday night into Sunday morning, March 7-8 Backdated
HOW || Actionspam

[This log is for any in-flight interactions on the Knight's jet plane ride back from the mission site. Feel free to make your own threads/threadjack, etc. The flight time is approx nine and a half hours.

The mood of the flight is obviously a whole lot more somber than the flight out, given that Francesca's body is being transported in a body bag for potential resurrection.

The good news, however, is the effect Francesca's death had on the mission. Between Christos, Katniss, and Thomas, the Municipal building was spared a few lives, and the man who Francesca had attempted to save in the last few moments of her life had lived. His name was Pyotr Yakovlev and he turned out to have a substantial amount of pull with the military. After seeing what they were up againt, considering so many powerful personnel had been easily executed by invisible drow assassins, he agreed that the Mayor had been right: they were up against something they could never fight on their own, and their only chance for survival might be outreaching for peace with the sun elves after all. The destruction of the tunnels seemed to have deterred drow attacks on the sun elf city, which seems to have bought some time for a real coalition to formulate.

Of course, all of that is only a small comfort, when someone had to die to attain it - even if they'd managed to complete an impossible seeming mission. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[For the first time ~~in his whole life~~, Christos lets someone else fly the jet, and sits in the back of the plane, closest to where the body bag is. He barely moves, his face cast in hard granite as he stares at nothing two inches in front of himself. His shoulders are hunched, and he radiates an aura of 'stay the fuck away'.]

[ Despite all the giant warning flags, or maybe perhaps because of them, Thomas makes his way quite deliberately back towards the dark elf at one point, hands on the back of either seat as he stands in the aisle, hovering, as if waiting for him to look up. When he doesn't his eyes dip, and he speaks in a low voice*:]

May I? [ He doesn't wait for a response, and slips into the seat next to him, placing his hand on the drink table between them, and drumming his fingers once there. Christos' eyes narrow at the sound, but he doesn't look over. ] You don't have to say anything, don't worry. I didn't come back here for the scintillating conversation.

I just don't want you walking away from this blaming yourself for what happened to her. If anyone's to blame, it's me, but we both know that the only ones who really need to carry the burden of blame are the ones who are all quite dead now. [Christos' expression only seems to harden a bit, and Thomas continues on:]

And I wanted to assure you that... that you certainly aren't the only one hurting, I know how you feel, believe me--

* Overheard with a 14 listen or above

[ It all happens disturbingly quickly. One moment, Christos is motionless, the next there's an impossible blur of metal and then a horrible, deliberate thmp sound as a dagger embeds itself straight down through the back of Thomas' hand and into the wood of the table.

Thomas lets out a loud hiss of air, and then Christos twists the blade, hard to the left, and hard to the right, grinding it against the bones, and the Dragon's Claw curses.

Just as swiftly, Christos yanks the blade out again, and then says, in a voice as sharp as the dagger:]

No. But now you have some idea.

[ Thomas hisses again as the blade jerks out of his skin and he very quickly retracts his hand, grabbing it with the other one, blood dribbling everywhere, across his coat and clothes. He shoots Christos a glare, but then flexes the fingers of his hand, a strange white light emitting from his palm, and he lets out a soft groan, which ebbs as the light does - his palm good as new when it disappears. He flexes it a few more times, in and out, and then stands, mumbling. ]

Right. Deserved that.

[ Christos says nothing more, as he steps past him and moves back towards his seat. ]

[She doesn't necessarily want to disturb them, but she doesn't feel that any other place on the plane is right for her to be, but next to him. So she lurks by his side the entire flight (or as long as he will allow her), choosing to sit curled up on the floor instead of in a chair.

She doesn't say anything to him, and decides to wait for him to speak first. If he chooses not to, that's fine with her, but she feels the need to just be near him, as if his presence will somehow help ease her sadness that she's currently feeling and has no idea how to properly express.]

[ Not a single word drops out of his mouth, not until the moment when Thomas edges past her to have his little "chat" with him and ends up stabbed for it. After the Dragon's Claw heads back to his seat and settles in, the drow does turn his head to fix her with a momentary stare, however. As if waiting for her to say something about it, daring her to.]

[Given that we're going to say she suffered from some strong ptsd flashbacks not too long ago, she probably isn't really in the mood to say much of anything, even if she had something to say.

Which she doesn't.

So she remains silent and just looks up at him with empty eyes, wishing so desperately that she was someone who could bring herself to cling to a person and cry out her fears, and that he was someone who would be receptive to it if she was.

After a moment of staring, her hand goes up to touch at his knee. A small gesture, and meaningless, given everything that had just happened. But she hopes that it's enough.]

[ He doesn't try to drive a knife through her hand at least. That's... telling. Or something. Really, he's just surprised as all get out by the gesture, and for a second, the shock drains some of the hardness out of his face, though it leaves him looking momentarily very tired instead.

But then the hardness returns, leaking back into his expression, even if that note of pain lingers in his eyes. He tightens his jaw, and tears his gaze away from her again, fixating on a point on the seat in front of him as if he means to bore a hole in it with his laser vision. ]

[She glares up at the same spot when she notices he's looking at it, as if their powers combined could cause actual destruction. It's a great while longer before she finally speaks, her voice raspy and very slow and cautious so that she can keep out as much emotion as possible.]

I trusted her.

[To Katniss, being able to trust someone is a great deal more than holding an affection for them.]

Almost as much as I trust you.

[ That causes his entire body to go rigid, which she could feel even where she barely brushes his leg. His eyes careen back towards her, his mouth falling open as if to say something, but he snaps it shut again as if thinking better of whatever was going to come out.

But then a large frown cuts its way across his face, even deeper than the one that was already perma-etched there, and he says rather harshly: ]

You shouldn't.

I know.

[She's blunt and honest. She doesn't see a reason not to be.]

But I still do, and that means something to me.

[This is said firmly, as if he doesn't really have a choice in the matter. She cranes her head so she can stare up at him, hoping to make him uncomfortable enough to speak, even if it's to yell at her or tell her to go away.]

[ He stares back at her, as if waiting for her to retract the statement or think twice about it, or get uncomfortable and just slink away of her own accord.

When she doesn't, his own discomfort wins out. ]

It must be wonderful to have such grounds of faith to cling to. [ His words sound s-so ridiculously bitter and sarcastic, and he swings his gaze away again, though this time his eyes seek out the others on the plane, and narrow, as unknown vitriolic thoughts pass visibly through his mind. ]

You're one of the only things here I have to cling hold of. [She snaps, and her mind goes back to Riddick, and she briefly wonders how he's doing. But not even wondering about him could prevent her anger from escalating some, and her tone from becoming a lot more snippy.]

You're the one that found me and brought me into this. If you don't want me becoming attached or having faith in you, then you should have me assigned to work with someone else.

[She feels her temper rising, and she's just so emotionally drained by this point that she doesn't have it in her. So she pulls her knees in close to her chest and flops her forehead down up against them, cocooning herself in her own negative thoughts.]

[ wow that little spiel seems to hit him like a mack truck for some reason, and he just stares, eyes widened a bit, as if he were looking at a ghost.

or listening to one, at least.

he doesn't respond right away though, just continuing to stare as she burrows into herself, and his eyes stray back in the direction where the body bag is, and then find his window for a short time.

after a long, loaded pause, he says rather quietly, not looking in her direction: ]

I didn't say that.

I said you shouldn't.

[ a beat. ]

You could wind up the same way.

[His words don't immediately pull her out of her emotional constipation, and she doesn't promptly de-curl and respond. It takes her at least five minutes before she feels ready to try and say anything, and she keeps her legs in close to her chest as she turns to look up at him once again, her stare accusatory.]

I understand the risk of being here. Don't think I'm a child that isn't fully aware of it.

[ Oh NOW~ she wants to talk. FINE. HE'LL TALK. ]

That wasn't my implication.

If I died for you, it would be an honor. [She's still bitchy and snaps that out, even though there's supposed to be a kinder meaning behind it. She has a strong sense of loyalty to him, and she would do whatever it took to keep him safe.]

[ ♬ Fool's Gold - Bree Sharp

If what she said previously surprised him, this one completely comes at him out of left field, and he stares at her with something akin to open disbelief, looking noticeably stricken now.

Finally, he says with half-hearted contempt:]

There's nothing honorable in death. It's simply what it is. Death.

Dressing it up as anything more is foolishness of the most extreme sort. [ He looks down as he rummages in his cloak as if to check on one of his numerous hidden weapons there and readjust it ]

Edited 2012-04-11 06:12 (UTC)

I think death is all I had waiting for me where I came from. [She squints, trying so hard to actually find a memory to back up that claim. But none of the things she sees are attached to any emotion other than a triggering fear that she also has no idea how to explain or deal with.]

Maybe at some point it stops becoming foolish, and it's just an everyday part of life. It is what it is, and it's foolish to try and stop it. [At that moment, she sees a flash of a boy impaled in the throat with an arrow, and she gulps as her eyes slide closed and she tries to shove it away.]

All we can do is make sure we shoot first, so maybe we can die later.

On that point, we certainly agree. [ There's a weary sense of completely dry humor there, as if he's finding this all to be some kind of cosmic joke with a particularly sick punchline.

But then all ironic humor seems to flee his face again, as he looks struck by a thought and a fresh burst of anger or sadness or something. ]

But that doesn't mean I have to see any honor in what happened today. Any purpose.

Her life had a purpose. She would want her death to have one too.

[Her voice is so small when she insists upon this, and she tries to inwardly search for some further meaning to death other than "it happens to everyone sometime".

So instead of trying to find a deeper meaning, she observes him, and takes a moment to decide if she's bold enough to state what she really wants to.]

You cared for her more than you want anyone to know. We have that in common.

[ ♬ Proof - Coldplay

This time he doesn't respond. Not a single word. No denial, no confirmation, no attempt to reroute the conversation, no immediately shutting it down with a cutting remark.

He just stares at her, a few muscles in his cheek twitching from the way he has his jaw locked so tightly.

And still he says nothing. ]

Edited 2012-04-11 06:51 (UTC)

[Had she crossed the line with saying that?

She blinks up at him, and finds that she isn't sure what's left to be said. She wants to honor Francesca somehow, to make her sacrifice mean something more than just a lump of a body in a bag. There's a strong desire to make a stand against the fact that someone decent and good had died while she's still left standing, but it seems useless when there are people right here with her that are more distraught than she could ever be.

So she remains still and silent, and sitting at his feet. on a normal day, it would make her feel like a dog, or his little pet. But currently, it was as close to a hug as she would allow herself to give him and he would allow himself to receive.

In a gesture that she isn't even fully aware she's making, she brings three fingers together and presses them against her lips, holding them there briefly before raising the hand into the air. it's meaningless to her, nonsensical almost, but it's what her body is telling her to do. So she allows the gesture to pass before dropping her hand to the ground. Instead of looking up at Christos, she just stares helplessly at her hand.]

[ His eyes are drawn to the little display, and linger there, though he still doesn't speak - probably not for the rest of the trip. It's impossible to say what he thinks from the tight, drawn expression on his face, but perhaps the lack of anger being visibly roused again says something significant. ]

[Luthir's the one flying, and he seems to pour most of his focus into that, but if you want to bother him, he ... can't really stop you.]

[ Thomas is just going to be over here hoping no one else stabs him in the hand on this trip, yep. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

TRAVEL ♔ you can forget there's a world outside yourself

ota ... atyourownrisk

open to overhear / interrupt if you beat me to the end of it...

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

ota;

ota;