CHAPTER THREE ♔ heaven rain the colors down to form another prize

[romanticidal]

♬ someone like you (acoustic) - brian vander ark

WHO || Rafael, Buffy, Des
WHAT || The OT3 escapes Italy
WHERE || Venice --> etc
WHEN || June 8th
HOW || Actionspam. Single thread.

It's already about ten or eleven in the morning by the time Raf, Buffy, and Des made it to a hotel in Venice and got a couple rooms to crash in for a few hours, since they were running on zero sleep and a lot of adrenaline after their escape from Rome and subsequent barrage of revelations.

A few hours of rest is all they're looking for before they make their way back to London, but they're still cut off from the Knights, thanks to Iscariot taking all their phones.

When Buffy's eyes flutter open after some very, very satisfying sleep, it might take her a moment to realize that she's actually awake. Rafael's face is remarkably close to her own since they're sharing a pillow, and his own eyes are open, studying her face with a thoughtful, fond expression and the shadow of a smile on his cheek. One of his arms is still wrapped around her, and he squeezes her side when he sees she's awake and greets her gently.

"Buongiorno, carina."

Comments

[nothingsodivine]

I have a feeling attracting the attention of a crowd wouldn't stop them after what we pulled. They'd figure something out or they'd wait until the airline booted you out. [He runs his hand over his face.] Also a temperamental singer and his entourage don't carry the kind of firepower we're packing.

[Which means... Ugh. He paces the room, fitfully.]

Calling Burt definitely has fewer risks, beyond the fact that once he hears about this shit, he's never gonna let us near you and I don't think breaking his kneecaps is gonna keep him from exposing the Knights if we argue. At least if we avoided why we're stuck in Italy, I could bullshit something.

[He paces a few more times.] You don't know anyone in Italy who can get us fake passports? Fake names. The whole deal. Stick you in a hoodie and big sunglasses and don't open your mouth, no one'll recognize you.

[THAT DOES NOT TAKE CARE OF THE GUN PROBLEM.]

[slay]

His entourage does when there was a shoot-out at his concert a year ago.

[ she turns to des. ]

We could offer to unload and check the guns under the plane.

[ buffy would like it on the record that none of the five guns they have between them are hers. you are both problem children. learn 2 superpowers like her, wow. ]

Or we could tell Burt that we came down here to set Vi and Luthir up for their honeymoon, and our baggage was lost along the way. No more passports. [ shrug. ] That’s not gonna make him less crazy, though. At this point, crazy NOVA exec doesn’t exactly have me shaking in my sensible shoes, though.

[nothingsodivine]

At this point? I don't think Burt is the one you oughta be worried about.

[and here is his first acknowledgement that ~something~ happened last night. he grabs a handful of the covers and holds them up before dropping them back down. LET'S NOT RISK ISA FUCKING THIS UP OUT OF JEALOUSY.]

[romanticidal]

[ his wisdom check of 11 means that he glances at des, furrows his brow a bit, but doesn't directly address what he was just talking about. for whatever reason. ]

He is right. Iscariot is the bigger threat. We are safer calling Burt. They might have all the major airports staked already.

[slay]

[ wow good save. buffy is slack-jawed for a moment at thAT INSINUATION but rafael’s save keeps her from stuttering out something stupid. she turns to him and nods. ]

Burt it is. So, uh, either of you know a number that you can reach him at?

[nothingsodivine]

[EXCUSE YOU WHAT OTHER LEAP IS HE SUPPOSED TO MAKE HERE. and wow that is the opposite of what he said. WHATEVER. Your funeral.]

Burt and I don't exactly exchange friendly texts every day.

[romanticidal]

[ no fucking shit, raf rolled an 18 wis for this and a crit fail to remember any others. even isa i guess. ]

I know Burt's number. Perhaps we can borrow a phone somewhere that we can leave quickly.

[slay]

We're in a hotel.

[ buffy walks to the night table between the beds and picks up the corded phone. she's from the 90s ok she's over this cell phones shit. ]

[nothingsodivine]

[des is just gonna flop on the other bed and observe.]

This'll go well.

[romanticidal]

[ rafael rattles off the number. meanwhile a spot check of 10+ notices movement out through the balcony drapes right behind him. ]

[slay]

[ Guess who crit failed her spot check.

Buffy is sitting with her back to the balcony, in her defense, on the unused bed that was supposed to be hers. She lifts the phone, dials a number to dial out, and punches in the magical code that will connect her to Burt. Joy. ]

[nothingsodivine]

[des rolled an 11 so he just barely sees it out of the corner of his eye. he stands up and mimes STAY QUIET to Rafael and pulls his gun out of his jacket.]

1/2

[romanticidal]

[ aw hell no. rafael moves to grab his own holster from the nightstand, and slip it on quietly, where buffy can see, as he keeps an eye on the window. he draws one gun out into his hand. ]

[starfucker]

[ a familiar voice picks up on the other end of the line. ] I don't know this number, so this better not be the IRS.

[slay]

I don't want your tax documents, Burt; I want a ride back to London. [ she looks up at rafael, catching that expression and the way he's moving for his gun (spot 21 this time—yeah she just can't help staring at him that was fully responsible for the crit fail, bc suddenly when it's him she's observant as fuck). she presses the phone into the crook of her shoulder and gets to her feet, grabbing the receiver and turning around to look at the curtain they're threatening. she keeps her voice calm as she speaks into the phone, though—if a little short. ] This is Buffy. I'm with Rafael in Venice.

[nothingsodivine]

[Des circles to one side of the curtain, signaling for Rafael to take the other. They are about to Boondock Saints something.

Possibly a pigeon. Or maybe an urchin child.

We just don't know.]

1/2

[starfucker]

And what in the name of Mary's holy cunt are you two doing in Venice?

[romanticidal]

[ rafael takes the other side with a 29 move silently and 18 hide, actual assassin rafael giovanni ]

[slay]

Rafael wanted to let Vi and Luthir stay at his house for their honeymoon. We came to show them the place and decided to stay a few nights to take them around the city. [ bluff nat 20 ??? ok then, buffy. it's apparently a good thing they planned this out in advance. ] And, hey, you know what? I think the "holy" adjective kinda loses its weight when you're talking about the canal that birthed Jesus.

[nothingsodivine]

[WOW RAFAEL. STOP BEING A SHOW-OFF. Des gets into place with a Move Silently of 21 and a Hide of 16.

He is just not as cool as Rafael. Shut your face.

He holds up three fingers with his free hand. On three, they're gonna yank back this curtain.]

1/2

[starfucker]

Don't know what's more divine than that, sweetheart.

Why the shit didn't Rafael call? I've been chewing asses left and right about this.

[romanticidal]

[ before buffy can answer, and before des can draw back the curtain, suddenly gunfire shatters the glass beside them as it comes raining through the balcony doors. like, fucking machine gun fire. reflex save of 15+ will avoid getting caught in the hail of bullets, and rafael twists aside, flat against the wall to do exactly that. ]

[slay]

[ GOD DAMMIT.

Buffy crouches instantly (ref 21), taking phone and receiver with her to duck between the two beds. She presses herself as flat as possible, suddenly inhaling and trying to cover the receiver uselessly. She grimaces—how the hell is she supposed to sell this one?

She doesn't raise her head to check on Rafael and Des yet, instead focusing on what her task is. She's seen them both in a shoot-out. She trusts them, ok. ]

Funny story! [ She laughs awkwardly. Here comes bluff 23. ] We were out on the, uh, well—the other canal, the one of the—the non-birthing variety, and we had our passports and phones in my purse, and would you believe it fell in? We haven't had the chance to get them replaced. [ Maybe she can just pretend the machine gun fire is normal and not mention it ... ]

[nothingsodivine]

[des hits the deck (reflex 19) and crawls back towards the wall.]

How the hell did they find us? [and then, louder, despite the fact that BUFFY IS ON THE PHONE:] Y'know most religious whackjobs send pamphlets. Ever tried that? Sure it sends a better message about your faith than bullets.

1/2

[starfucker]

[ that would be the time Burt got a nat 20 listen, wouldn't it ]

Either our boy Rafael had developed an intense new love of dubstep, or I hear gunfire.