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

[everyredcent]

♬ The Trees Keep Growing - Azure Ray

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. ]

Comments

[everyredcent]

[ 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.

[befree]

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.]

[everyredcent]

[ 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. ]

[befree]

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.]

[everyredcent]

[ 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.

[befree]

[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.

[everyredcent]

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

That wasn't my implication.

[befree]

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.]

[everyredcent]

[ ♬ 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 ]

[befree]

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.

[everyredcent]

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.

[befree]

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.

[everyredcent]

[ ♬ 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. ]

[befree]

[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.]

[everyredcent]

[ 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. ]