[ they're the best at what they do, but that doesn't mean that plans can't still go wrong. in fact, in their case, they do more often than not. often enough that both have become pretty adept at coming up with a plan b on the fly, but it's never something they enjoy having to do, just something both have become good at.
they've gone wrong pretty spectacularly this time, in a way that involves a shapeshifting culebra tricking them into giving him a ride to where they were going, on their way back to richard and kate and the other culebras. which should have been an immediate tip-off, but work hadn't been on either of their minds. suave, cómodo, she thinks to herself in the shower as she's washing off his blood. estúpido. because as it turned out, he'd been someone sent to kill her, assuming the form of one of her followers in order to fool them and get close.
seth hadn't trusted it, had wanted to leave him to find another way to fix whatever bullshit excuse he'd given them for needing to travel with them. but she's been so determined to be a better ruler than the nine lords had been; more compassionate and helpful. it won't make up for the people she's let down over the centuries, but maybe it'll do enough to keep her from failing completely.
she's angry, pessimistic. she realizes this, that it's why she's spiraling into these darker, negative thoughts. it doesn't stop her from thinking them.
she shuts the water off as the temperature starts to cool, not wanting to risk any more weakness. the fight's taken a lot out of them both; she can still see the bruises and scrapes she sustained from the fight and eventual slaughter underneath the towel she's pulled around herself. she debates dressing immediately so seth won't see them ( she'll heal, but she's not sure he can spare the blood ), but hiding them will just make him angrier. besides, she needs to get clean ones first.
she comes out of the bathroom to find seth sitting on the bed, not looking much better than she feels. she watches him as he reassembles his gun, checking the various parts for damage as he cleans them, and waits until it's back together before she comes to sit beside him. ]
You were right.
Edited (icon switch) 2017-05-07 19:01 (UTC)
flattery will get you everywhere tbh but it's v mutual
[ heated anger begins to dissipate from his voice before the last word; she's ancient, sure, but all of this being out in the world is uncharted territory. didn't have the same kind of instincts that came from dealing with the day to day bullshit. not that he's the shining example of mental health. case in point: the ritual he's going through with the gun, shoving the mag back into place. could still hear his prick of a father's voice ringing loud and clear. 'again, faster.' pistol now set to the side, the full brunt of his attention turns to kisa. ]
Wanna know what rule numero uno is? If someone sees the opportunity to dick you over, consider it a done deal. [ the kind of advice she doesn't really need in all honestly. how many snake skinned pieces of garbage had tried to take advantage over the centuries? probably a question neither of them should bother debating. an ache thuds dully in his lower back; she took most of the damage, they'd learned to watch out for each other, and while he's pretty far from a liability, he isn't exactly bulletproof either. something about his expression softens; her cheek, discolored by bruising, lower down, an angry red mark following kisa's clavicle.
a towel being the only thing covering her is usually enough to send his blood racing; still did, to a certain degree, but having something else to focus on dampens that reaction. for now. the black leather gloves come off and he reaches out, tucking the damp strands of her hair behind an ear, thumb very lightly tracing the shape of a bruise ] That Thing wannabe packed a punch, huh? [ yes, he knows exactly how showing even the glimmer of vulnerability is a struggle for her ] Except you were the one left standing. Imagine that.
[ silence hangs in the air for a moment; it isn't uncomfortable, they're past that stage, though it hasn't granted them immunity to tension. carefully, the buttons to his vest are undone before the garment is shrugged off altogether ] The real kicker is I don't know whether to be pissed at you or make sure you get healed up.
[ she knows the ritual, can remember the memories and emotions associated with the sudden knowledge she'd gained by drinking his blood the first time. it's why she didn't interrupt it; maybe it's not the healthiest way to deal with things but it's a better method than some of the others he's used in the past. ( she's never going to judge him for it; hers haven't been much better. ) ]
Be pissed. I should have known better.
[ she should have seen something like this coming, after witnessing carlos and richard battling for power, after seeing countless others challenge the lords for it. up until now, things have gone relatively smoothly, or about as smoothly as they could have considering how she had come into her position. there are culebras out there who consider her ruling an affront to their culture and way of life, who think her way of ruling is weak and will lead to their destruction. who remember her as someone who ran, as the companion of the worst of the nine lords. who remember her as nothing more than a myth, than a symbol. she'd run from them and this life before, more than once. she's sure they remember that, too.
maybe they resent her for it.
her eyes slide closed as he reaches out to touch her, head tilting slightly towards his hand. it hurts, but she can deal with that. showing her weakness is worse, even in front of him. ]
Edited (apparently i can't reread anything without thinking of something i want to add) 2017-05-24 00:27 (UTC)
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
have i ever told you you're my favorite?
they've gone wrong pretty spectacularly this time, in a way that involves a shapeshifting culebra tricking them into giving him a ride to where they were going, on their way back to richard and kate and the other culebras. which should have been an immediate tip-off, but work hadn't been on either of their minds. suave, cómodo, she thinks to herself in the shower as she's washing off his blood. estúpido. because as it turned out, he'd been someone sent to kill her, assuming the form of one of her followers in order to fool them and get close.
seth hadn't trusted it, had wanted to leave him to find another way to fix whatever bullshit excuse he'd given them for needing to travel with them. but she's been so determined to be a better ruler than the nine lords had been; more compassionate and helpful. it won't make up for the people she's let down over the centuries, but maybe it'll do enough to keep her from failing completely.
she's angry, pessimistic. she realizes this, that it's why she's spiraling into these darker, negative thoughts. it doesn't stop her from thinking them.
she shuts the water off as the temperature starts to cool, not wanting to risk any more weakness. the fight's taken a lot out of them both; she can still see the bruises and scrapes she sustained from the fight and eventual slaughter underneath the towel she's pulled around herself. she debates dressing immediately so seth won't see them ( she'll heal, but she's not sure he can spare the blood ), but hiding them will just make him angrier. besides, she needs to get clean ones first.
she comes out of the bathroom to find seth sitting on the bed, not looking much better than she feels. she watches him as he reassembles his gun, checking the various parts for damage as he cleans them, and waits until it's back together before she comes to sit beside him. ]
You were right.
flattery will get you everywhere tbh but it's v mutual
[ heated anger begins to dissipate from his voice before the last word; she's ancient, sure, but all of this being out in the world is uncharted territory. didn't have the same kind of instincts that came from dealing with the day to day bullshit. not that he's the shining example of mental health. case in point: the ritual he's going through with the gun, shoving the mag back into place. could still hear his prick of a father's voice ringing loud and clear. 'again, faster.' pistol now set to the side, the full brunt of his attention turns to kisa. ]
Wanna know what rule numero uno is? If someone sees the opportunity to dick you over, consider it a done deal. [ the kind of advice she doesn't really need in all honestly. how many snake skinned pieces of garbage had tried to take advantage over the centuries? probably a question neither of them should bother debating. an ache thuds dully in his lower back; she took most of the damage, they'd learned to watch out for each other, and while he's pretty far from a liability, he isn't exactly bulletproof either. something about his expression softens; her cheek, discolored by bruising, lower down, an angry red mark following kisa's clavicle.
a towel being the only thing covering her is usually enough to send his blood racing; still did, to a certain degree, but having something else to focus on dampens that reaction. for now. the black leather gloves come off and he reaches out, tucking the damp strands of her hair behind an ear, thumb very lightly tracing the shape of a bruise ] That Thing wannabe packed a punch, huh? [ yes, he knows exactly how showing even the glimmer of vulnerability is a struggle for her ] Except you were the one left standing. Imagine that.
[ silence hangs in the air for a moment; it isn't uncomfortable, they're past that stage, though it hasn't granted them immunity to tension. carefully, the buttons to his vest are undone before the garment is shrugged off altogether ] The real kicker is I don't know whether to be pissed at you or make sure you get healed up.
i'm glad to hear it ♥
Be pissed. I should have known better.
[ she should have seen something like this coming, after witnessing carlos and richard battling for power, after seeing countless others challenge the lords for it. up until now, things have gone relatively smoothly, or about as smoothly as they could have considering how she had come into her position. there are culebras out there who consider her ruling an affront to their culture and way of life, who think her way of ruling is weak and will lead to their destruction. who remember her as someone who ran, as the companion of the worst of the nine lords. who remember her as nothing more than a myth, than a symbol. she'd run from them and this life before, more than once. she's sure they remember that, too.
maybe they resent her for it.
her eyes slide closed as he reaches out to touch her, head tilting slightly towards his hand. it hurts, but she can deal with that. showing her weakness is worse, even in front of him. ]