waking the dead 1.0r :: the ides approach :: look out at the darkness

[larue]

WEDNESDAY, 14 MARCH 2012. THE SMALL HOURS BEFORE SUNRISE.

[ The flashes came to him at around ten in the evening. Right in the middle of a conversation he was having with Riley Falner.

At first it was the image of Hikaru waking up, followed by a sharp stab of certainty that he wasn't thinking of his boy just because he missed the Blade King; that the image was exactly what the Seer was seeing or had seen, from all the way in Hirato. And that instead of the routine updates made through calls, Alistair had resorted to this because words and explanations would take up too much time.

( Tohru. Hikaru had asked for Tohru to be sent in. Hikaru turning as soon as the Assassin stepped past the doors. Then those ominous red rings around the irises of his boy's violet eyes, dark in the late hour.

"I know," Hikaru had said.

Then suddenly all hell broke loose and in the mix and jumble of it all, all he could see/feel was death and fire and the Wind moving to contain the situation, Alistair on the phone his lips shaping Setsuna's name as he reloaded his gun--

--then nothing. )



He doesn't know what it was that Riley saw on his face, only that the Daywalker had already turned to call for Gio Malaahas to rally Wolf's Choice.

He was still reeling when he felt vibrations beneath his palm, Yulia's name blinking almost angrily on the screen.



He doesn't have much to say when she informs him that she and Makoto are to go. His limbs feel like he's slogging through water with the resistance akin to all of him weighed down.

What can he say when his knuckles are white? When where he's sitting is suddenly quieter and much colder, even if all the lamps this side of the estate are turned on.

He thinks he manages to tell her to take care -- that they both do. He's not sure if he said it. He prays that he did.

He's not sure of anything. And it's far too quiet. Like the quiet of the dead. ]

Comments

[larue]

[ Cleaning up the dishes and the movement that entails warms the cold he hadn't realizes had settled over his bones. He doesn't linger too long on doing that either, one eye on that pot as well as the periphal note of whatever your movements tell him.

When he's done, he sets everything aside to dry and then snags an extra cup which he'll gently set down where your can see him.

On a semi-related note, he makes sure to steer to the opposite side of the arm and leg that bother you. ]

Would you like some?

[ Coffee, he means. ]

I'm not sure where they keep the tea.

[takeitinstride]

[ She knows where it is (she already knows where everything in the Estate is, and occasionally? Where everyone of importance is too), but you are not her errand boy. Besides, it wasn't as if coffee was a bad second choice. ]

Yes, please.

[ And there's the first time you might have heard Liandrin say "please" politely since the two of you started working in close quarters. That want all that long ago, but the Mage conducts herself in a rather forceful fashion on a usual basis. That much, you would have picked up on way back. ]

[larue]

[ God's truth, he wouldn't have minded digging up the tea if that's what you preferred. Nor would he have thought that you'd turned him into your errand boy. But coffee it is, since it doesn't look like you mind -- he'll retrieve the sugar from the counter and some milk from the fridge a little after he's got your cups all fixed up.

Don't mind him as he pours an additional shot into his cup. ]

I hope I'm not keeping you from anything.

[ Yes, he knows it's godawful o'clock, but still. The sentiment stands. ]

[takeitinstride]

You're not.

[ There isn't anything for her to do. Riley is gone, and she's not part of your Council. Setsuna is holding the fort, and already told Lia that she wanted her sister right where she was: with Netsach, where she could coordinate with the Daywalker and his men directly and be an extra pair of eyes for her. The Wind were the ones on the front lines with the Seer. (Her Seer, once upon a time.) ]

As things stand, I don't think I could sleep even if I needed to.

[ There was no telling what was going to happen tomorrow. She wanted to be vigilant.

She also wants to do this small thing for you, if you'll let her. ]

[larue]

[ There's a soft sound of assent from his end as he stares into the liquid in his cup. Sleep, he would tell you wryly, if the both of you were actually friends, is overrated in the Vigil lifestyle.

Then again, that might just be his own anxiety speaking. Sleep hasn't come easy for him in a while. The bed is too soft, too big, and altogether too empty. ]

I... [ shifting a touch uncomfortably in his seat. ] I'm piss-poor company to be around though. My apologies for that.

[takeitinstride]

[ Her lips quirk at that. She's relaxing ever so minutely now. ]

I'm rather accustomed to stiff sorts, Commander, especially when they have not had a very good day.

[ She is allowed some humor in an attempt to lighten the mood, she hopes?

But, really. You don't have to apologize. What she's admittedly more concerned about is that at the end of it all, her presence and her attempts at keeping you together without really being so direct about it are welcome. ]

[larue]

[ Excuse him as he chokes a little on his coffee.



Hold up. He'll reach for a glass of water first to clear his windpipe. ]

I don't suppose that was a dig at anyone we both happen to know?

[ Okay, so maybe he's a little curious over who exactly you're drawing comparisons with. ]

[takeitinstride]

No. Just a result of living rather long and not deviating far from one's calling in the Vigil.

[ Although, well... there are a number of people she could think of that you both know.

Another time, perhaps. Given that you're not so stiff around her and she's finally starting to ease up, she'd like to not risk stepping on a land mine. ]

Truly, though, it's no trouble.

[larue]

[ He folds his hands around his cup and cants his head with a small -- if grateful -- smile.

You're not so bad yourself, he thinks. But he'll elect to just sip from his drink and feel the warmth and the bite of that booze go down.

His gaze wanders back towards the window. The sun should be up in another hour or so. ]

The waiting's the part that I hate the most.

[ He takes a breath, looks down. ] It's always the same, no matter the war.

[takeitinstride]

That's the tragedy of it, isn't it. The reasons change, but the dance itself is almost always the same.

[ She won't insult your intelligence by assuming that you don't understand. She might be far older than you, but the experiences you have had surpass the stases of many functional immortals that she's become acquainted with.

Taking another sip, and smoothing her fingers along the rim of her cup before reaching over. She'd like an extra shot in her coffee now. ]

We had enough time to prepare. [ A beat. ] Things will work out somehow.

[ "We", because you had your pieces and she had yours. Because you know, as well as she does, that Alistair's reach goes far. Because maybe she needs to say it in order to believe it, and maybe you need to hear it too. ]

[larue]

[ You reach for the bottle and he nudges it a little towards you, even as he's lifting his cup to his lips.

The only acknowledgement he has to your statement comes in the faint twitch of his brow and the brief nod of his head as he takes a long draught from his mug.

He never says it to anyone, but Alistair's reach has always left him with a healthy amount of fear and perhaps the word is concern. It doesn't in any way interfere with the trust he has in his man and the belief he holds in the Mordechai brother's vision -- but a healthy amount of respect for his betters has always done a body good. ]

[takeitinstride]

[ Noting that down. She does not say anything until after she finishes boozing up her coffee. ]

Was he the one who pushed you? To become a King, I mean.

[ She's been under the impression that the title chafes at you. She knows the feeling. ]

[larue]

[ This is him freezing -- much to his internal chagrin -- in the middle of a second sip from that cup when you ask the question.

Setting the mug down now. Offering a quiet nod. ]

We had a-- [ here is a telling pause as he tries to draw up the right word for it ] --conversation on the subject.

[ Here's the sight of him slouching some; a breath expelled thinly between his lips as he looks down at his drink.

It doesn't rest easy on his shoulders, this whole 'King' business. He's been a soldier all his life, from a family who has served since the first World War. He has been a captain of a squad and making hard calls is not something new to him. But to have people look to him -- to view him as something more than another soldier right alongside the rest of them? That's something he never wanted for himself. ]

[takeitinstride]

A conversation suited to his timing, no doubt, and on his terms.

[ Perhaps she is overstepping again, but it will be hard for her to regret saying it. The Seer is not an easy man, and from what Lia can tell? He's only gotten more intense since his rebirth.

(She used to call him out on those moments when it seemed like he had forgotten that he was not moving pieces into place, but people. She is not sure whether she's allowed to do that again.

All she wants at this point is that he'll come out of this mess alive.) ]

[larue]

Oh, yeah. [ That's not so much spoken out loud but whispered--

--followed by a huff of breath and this one reaching for that bottle again.

( Dammit, Alistair. )

Time for a refill. Hold that thought, Miss Delacroix, while he downs the shot he added to the remains of his coffee.

Okay. There. ]

He better get his damn ass out of this alright because I have words for him.

[ Did his voice break a little? Maybe. In any case, there's a wry, raw kind of quality to this one's voice -- and he's not hiding it from you. ]

[takeitinstride]

[ And the smile she's sending you at that moment is small and brittle at the edges. Vulnerability, from the unflappable, ruthless Lady Swallowtail. ]

I will make sure that you are first in line.

[ She has little doubt that there's a queue for that sort of thing. ]

[larue]

[ And if he ends up watching you a little longer than he normally does, it's honestly because he's realizing that he's never seen that look on your face before. Not ever.

Looking away now and clearing his throat, before he's tipping the bottle over your cup. ]

Refill?

[ Today warrants it and all. ]