CLOSED ♔ don't know what the country's coming to

[behindcloseddoors]

♬ on an evening in roma - dean martin

WHO || Rafael, Des, Buffy, their best pal in the world
WHAT || An unexpected incident
WHERE || Rome
WHEN || June 7th, 2014
HOW || Actionspam. Single thread.

Who knows how long unconsciousness has them all swallowed in its grip. But when it finally allows them to resurface, they'd notice the smooth motion of a car indicating they're... still riding in a vehicle. A wis check of 14+ might recognize it's a different limo, however, and it doesn't take a wisdom check to recognize that they are all crammed together on the same side of the seat now. With... hands cuffed to the seat between their legs.

Across from them, a large figure sits grinning manically... wearing a familiar gray cassock. Oh hi. :)

A single glance out the window at the bustling city outside is enough to recognize that is sure as shit ain't London. And Anderson will be quick to clear that up for y'all, waving one hand at the view.

"Well, now. I hope you all enjoyed your rest. Let me be the first t'bid ye welcome... to Rome."

Comments

[romanticidal]

[ rafael turns his head very slightly towards her as the car stops, his voice quiet. ] Buffy...

[ he reaches up slowly to lay a hand on her forearm. ] I think we owe him this much, no?

[nothingsodivine]

[Des growls in exasperation, BECAUSE EVERYONE STOP ASKING ME THAT QUESTION.]

I don't know what happened to Anderson. He locked me up. I broke out after and-

[He side eyes the stranger.] I'm not explaining this when he's here. I'll tell you. I just... Not with him.

[slay]

[ rafael’s touch makes her chest heave and her eyes burn. she tightens her grip on the gun at first, matching the way her face tightens and contorts with the struggle of simply accepting everything that’s happening. when she lowers her gun, it’s not just a surrender—she cracks.

distress wells up in her face in the form of fighting off tears welling in her eyes, and she finally lowers the gun, turning to push open the door and climb out of the car. she’s keeping it on her for now—not because she could make any use of it, but because it makes her feel better not to be totally defenseless. ]

[romanticidal]

[ rafael watches her go, then glances in the back seat again, his gaze lingering on des' for a moment, suspicion warring with a desire to accept des' assurance in his eyes. finally he stares at the stranger for another long moment, before getting out of the car and heading towards the door. the stranger follows, and leads them towards the door, where this symbol is inscribed. he pushes it open, into a small well-lit sanctuary. the building looks rather old, filled with antique furniture, basins, books here and there. a couple middle age and older men and women seem to be present, dressed in simple cleric robes, moving from small alcove where bed is to other rooms with supplies. ]

[nothingsodivine]

[Des meets Rafael's eyes with a look that's abysmally pained and says all there is to say about how he feels right now. He climbs out of the car and shoves his gun back into his jacket where it belongs, although he's reluctant to let it go. Some people have security blankets. Des has a pistol. Shut your face.

He keeps his head down as he walks in, having had his fill of organized religion of any kind today and shuffles in to catch up with Buffy, grabbing her arm as he does.]

Blondie, wait. [He runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek.] I'm sorry for losing it back there... and for... you know. [he makes a vague gesture with his free hand.] I'll explain everything. I promise.

[slay]

[ she tries to pull her arm away but AHAHAHAH no strength—it doesn't work, so it's just a futile, pathetic shade of what she would normally do, which only serves to further frustrate her. shaking her head, she turns her face away, pressing her lips between her teeth. ]

No, you won’t. [ she gets a hold of herself and looks back up at him. ] You never do. You’ll explain just as much as you have to for me to lay off. Now let me go. [ the last words come out through gritted teeth. ]

[accusatory]

[ ♬ medicine - daughter

as raf and the stranger disappear inside, leaving these two outside alone, another voice pipes up from behind them.

guess who. ]

There isn't much to explain. I've told him before: letting him fall into Iscariot hands doesn't serve my ends.

I wasn't about to sit back and let that happen.

[nothingsodivine]

[Des sucks in a breath and releases Buffy's arm at the sound of the all-too familiar voice. He swallows hard and glances down at the ground, unable to look behind him.]

Azrael. [Said in the most uncomfortable tone of voice ever, like it is physically distressing him to have her here right now.]

[slay]

[ it’s a miracle no one has had a psychotic break tonight. buffy’s like thiiiiis close. instead, once she's whipped around and shared a moment of pre-commercial-break shock with des, she snaps straight to snark. ]

Maybe you should have thought about that before you branded him. [ her hand tightens around rafael’s gun, but she keeps it at her side. guns in church a+. ]

[accusatory]

[ she lowers her gaze at des, answering buffy even while fixing him with an intent stare. ] I did what I had to do to make my message very clear. It doesn't matter who thinks they control his curse now.

His fate belongs to me. And anyone who chooses to intervene with that should know precisely who they're dealing with.

[nothingsodivine]

[Des glances behind him to meet her gaze, because apparently he cannot ignore her drilling holes into his back. And something about her words brings his confidence back, because he makes a face.]

You know I get all tingly when you're all possessive. [His tone is dry as the Sahara, though.]

[slay]

You know, I think the thousand-year mark was a good time to accept that stockholm syndrome just isn't setting in and give up. Maybe you should rethink your game, find a new way to get a boyfriend. [ it makes a lot more sense now. azrael being at the bridge. the curse being what it is. if this is really azrael, if the angel of death is real, and the grays are the ones who think they control his curse that azrael's also referring to—just who the hell are does that make the grays? ] Ever heard of "Tinder"?

[accusatory]

Don't let the existence of our rules give you the wrong impression: this is as far from a game as one can get. [ she moves closer to des, because what is personal space ] I'm not willing to give him up so easily.

[nothingsodivine]

[Des tilts his chin up slightly, pointedly trying to look anywhere but at her now.] I keep telling her she's betting on the wrong horse, but she's more stubborn than me.

[He rolls his eyes.] But she might have kicked Anderson down a few flights of stairs, so she has that going for her.

[slay]

Better the devil you know?

[ her question to des is dry, not forgetting precisely what anderson had called her. it’s really awkward to watch azrael basically trying to mount des, but buffy also has the impression that it wouldn’t be trying to if she left them to it. just saying. poor zarad. so she sticks around. ]

Thanks for the desperation. It really came in handy. [ girl you thirsty. with a roll of her eyes, she tucks rafael’s gun into the back of her pants. if he wants it back he’ll just have to go in there and get it. a gesture of good faith. ] You couldn’t have shown up before they declawed me?

[accusatory]

[ azrael just stays all up in des' grill, even trailing one finger along his jaw and flicking his face towards her with a nail so he'll look at her

hi ]

Direct interference comes with a price for my kind. I had to prioritize.

[ she finally glances back at buffy ] You seemed to manage just fine, Slayer strength or no.

[nothingsodivine]

[hahahaha. Once he's head is turned her direction, Des fixes her with a completely stoic look. mom pls. buffy is right over there. you're embarrassing me.]

But God forbid they try to evangelize little old me. [He holds her gaze for a few seconds like that before trying to pull away.] So, in the end, we both had some help. And believe me, being a damsel for the damned beats having my melon fucked with.

[slay]

Okay, that’s—[ girl you need to put that shit on ice. buffy moves to actually physically put an arm between them, resting her hand on des’ shoulder and trying to nudge him back because she’s … not actually stupid enough to manhandle the angel of death. surprise. ] Let’s just get some room for Jesus in there, and we can have a nice, civil conversation about what the hell just happened. [ interloping here has forced her to put pressure on her bad leg, so she grimaces and that hold on des’ shoulder becomes … a way to keep herself up. ] And possibly find a cleric and a phone.

[accusatory]

[ gurrrrl watch it. azrael affixes her with an icy stare before folding her arms. ] I didn't come by to stop in for tea. [ she glances at the door to st. cuthbert's ] Your cleric - and your phone - are inside.

You wanted answers. Now you have them. [ oh also. back to buffy with a very... not human gaze. ] Including who I am. [ whatchoo gonna do about it. ]

[nothingsodivine]

Go easy on her, Azrael. [There's a beat of pause between the two syllables, as Des composes himself and mutters sarcastically, like fuck if he can tell the angel of death what to do. if he could, she would not be his stalker.

he turns to buffy.]

I didn't wanna say anything in front of the jerk in the hood, 'cause this is the kind of thing that gets me in trouble with organized religion. Iscariot did their homework after I made that deal with Anderson and they jumped through hoops to draw some idiotic conclusions.

All that matters is I escaped thanks to her and- [he takes a moment to try to claw drying excrement from his hair] - a busted sewer line.

[slay]

[ buffy turns to look at azrael when her existence is actually acknowledged. the sharp look is returned and buffy just tilts her head to make it clear she’s heard, because the only thing she would say is that it puts them one step closer to stopping her, knowing what they’re up against, and now’s not really the time.

for tonight, at least, they’re on the same side. she makes a face at des, lifting her hands off of him and backing off a little. yeah, let’s put some distance in there ‘cause you smell, homie. #roomforjesus ]

I wouldn’t go so far as ‘thanks.’ [ let’s not go around thanking satan ok. ] You’re still in trouble. The metaphorical couch has a depression in the shape of you, and it’s just waiting to be slept on. [ yeah. you’re still a big liar-face. but she also forgives you. this would be where a heartwarming hug goes if … he weren’t covered in shit. literally. ] I’ll feel better when we’re all safely off Vatican turf. [ a beat. italy’s kind of rafael’s territory—he probably has something in mind, but with that said, she turns to look back at the limo for where he’s … at. shouldn’t he be inserting himself in this. ]

[accusatory]

[ RAF WENT INSIDE. I SPECIFICALLY SAID THIS.

so she sees... that he's not there. and azrael smirks emptily, as if she knows exactly what buffy is and isn't saying here. ]

Just don't say I never did anything for you. [ she throws one last look at des, her eyes flashing with a strange bright light... and then she's gone. with what sounds suspiciously like a rustle of invisible wings. ]

[nothingsodivine]

[There's an uncomfortable silence that descends in the wake of her leaving and after a moment or two of that passes, Des glowers at the space where she was.]

Either I'm going crazy or I'm almost starting to get used to her. [He points accusingly at the empty space and then throws his hands up.] Goddammit, I need a drink. And a shower. And that couch with an actual depression in the shape of me, so I can sleep this day off.

[slay]

We shouldn’t stay here tonight.

[ it's not remotely safe to slow down so close to the vatican ok. she just … decides rafael must have gone inside without her paying attention, rather than panicking about him being gone. with azrael gone, buffy moves to start … limping towards the door. the adrenaline is all but dried up now, and the pain is kicking in with a vengeance. ]

Just … [ she winces ] Long enough to get a breather and get out the heads-up. [ she claps des on the shoulder as she passes him towards the entrance. ] Come on. Burt’s gonna be beyond pissed, it’ll be fun.

[nothingsodivine]

[he follows her inside.] I don't have any sweet talk left in me. You want him to back down off a tirade? Call Myri.

[he cannot physically diplomacy anyone. do you know charm means nothing to angry catholics who think you're scum and want to brainwash you? DO YOU BUFFY? oh right because you tried that.

He takes a moment before entering, lingering in the door, and when he speaks again, his voice is quieter.]

I really thought that was it back there. That haggis-breathed sonuvabitch was talking about them working me over, and I've never been more scared in my life. I think about dying all the time. But never like that. Bet even I can't come back from that one.