Afterparty

[toooldforlosing]

Raylan survived an entire night of being trotted around the party as Hasi's escort without doing anything embarassing, or getting attacked because he was mistaken for someone else. On the whole, he considered this a win.

The truth was, in his work, he'd occasionally been to a fancy party, but always as the outsider. It was work. Boys from Harlan county did not get invited to that sort of party as a guest. It didn't bother him, but it left him feeling a little displaced. (Of course, with some of the people he'd met and seen at the Xanadu affair, he could have been bright green and no one would have batted an eye. It did make a bit of difference.)

Even so, he was glad enough that it was over. He'd had... quite a bit to drink, though his steps were steady enough. Hasi probably knows him well enough by now to tell he's feeling the alcohol a bit, but he's still in control. Maybe glad he's not driving home, but more or less fine. Even though he's quiet, he's relaxed, and with no idea of packing it in just yet.

"I'd ask your place or mine, but frankly, you don't want to see mine. Hell, I don't want to see mine."

Comments

[toooldforlosing]

"Really? But what about all your..." He gestured vaguely, as if to indicate 'magic and other oddities.'

[norea]

"Well, fate and luck are very different things. Nothing is coincidence." She sounds so sage, working her way down his torso with her mouth. "Not bothering with the drink, huh?"

[toooldforlosing]

"It'll keep," he pointed out, more clearly distracted by her efforts now.

[norea]

She answers that with a smile, and a lot less talking. Significantly later, she's finally asleep- curled up in bed, peaceful (for now). It takes a lot to really let Hasi relax enough to sleep deeply, but alcohol, sex, and a long night of dancing and entertaining socially will do it, so she's genuinely not inclined to stir at normal household sounds like the floors creaking.

Or, unfortunately, abnormal sounds, like strangers quietly and discreetly making their way down to the top floor of the flat, via the rooftop garden. (It's always been an area of vulnerability, and this isn't the first time it's been exploited.)

[toooldforlosing]

Raylan, on the other hand, sleeps light, even when he's exhausted. At first, he tells himself that it's just a strange building, that he's not used to all its normal sounds, and that it was so late it was early.

But his gut told him otherwise.

At home, he'd never have his gun(s) so far out of reach, but he'd let his guard down. Between Xanadu and London, it felt like the rules didn't quite apply.

He lay very still and listened.

[norea]

They're making their way carefully through the rooms, looking for something. Due to the design of the steps, Huan can't come upstairs, which is sort of loft-shaped, and has to be led to the terrace via the elevator - he is otherwise strictly bound to the lower floor, and that's fine (good, even, because he's got plenty of room down there, and he likes to have a bit of his own time, as is a breed characteristic), but he's still a guard dog. He barks, once, deep and sharp. It's a warning sound, and it does wake Hasi up, though she stirs slowly.

"...Raylan?" Her voice is hushed and thick mostly from sleep, not anything deliberate; she hasn't twigged to their company just yet.

[toooldforlosing]

Very, very low, he says, "Someone's in the house." At least two someones - he's guessing three.

He should have at least put pants on by now, he thinks, ruefully.

"Up here." This could go very badly if things happen in the wrong order, so he's sorting it mentally before he moves.

[norea]

In situations like this, Hasi is always torn - she killed her own husband, after all, so she's not sure she can consider herself a proper pacifist, but at the same time, she does everything she can (including sometimes letting herself get hurt, a bit) to avoid being violent toward another person. It's not her- here's just no cruelty to her.

But she also gets into trouble constantly, and sometimes attracts it to her, and thus she is confronted with situations like this.

"I should call the police," she murmurs, voice barely audible- but then she hesitates. There are things in this apartment she doesn't necessarily want police to find.

[toooldforlosing]

"By the time they get here, whatever's gonna happen'll be over," he says, calmly, "but it ain't a terrible idea."

Slowly, very quietly, he gets up to grab his pants, and both guns - one for use, one to make sure it's not just lying there like a birthday present. Hey, they might not be armed.

Keep telling yourself that, Raylan.

[norea]

Hasibe wraps her robe around herself, kneeling by the foot of the bed- she catches her lower lip between her teeth, worrying it without realizing what she's doing. Her heart is going pretty quickly, but she's mostly feeling that due to adrenaline; she's never as scared as she ought to be, but at least her senses feel sharper. She can hear their voices on the other side of the wall, muffled, as they go through the spare bedroom next to her master one.

"They're speaking Arabic," she says, very softly, "but I don't think any of them are native speakers. Maybe one."

So that's puzzling. A language in common, perhaps; she'd bet most of them speak English just fine, and probably are English themselves.

[toooldforlosing]

"Right."

Startling them was a recipe for getting shot. On the other hand, he needs them to take him seriously, and quickly, when he's this outnumbered.

"You should probably wait here, for at least a moment or two."

[norea]

She looks like she wants to argue, but there's really not time for that, and while she is a scary little witch in her own right, this is not necessarily a magical encounter; she tries to avoid mixing the two, lest she end up outed and the wrong person learns what she is.

Also, Raylan has a hell of a lot more experience with this kind of thing. She trusts him, and is for an instant really glad he's there, even if this is a complete mess and she has no idea what these people want from her.

So she nods once, a lot more worried about Raylan's well-being than her own.

(Also her dog's- if Huan keeps barking, they might try to shut him up.)

[toooldforlosing]

He flashes her an absent half-smile that he hopes is a little reassuring, then heads out, gun in hand, half raised. He's almost silent in his bare feet, moving toward the sounds of the intruders.

When he gets there, there are three, and he has a brief twist of satisfaction. He raises the gun, and one of them shouts in surprise.

"Easy," he says, in that falsely casual tone he's so good at. "Just thought we'd have a chat about what you're doing here."

And then everything happened both too fast and slow enough Raylan could see a few steps ahead without being able to stop it. One of the men reached for his pocket, and it could be a weapon, legit or improvised. One of the others reached out, as if to stop him, knocking him a moment after Raylan fired.

It was remarkable, the small difference between a shot to wound and a shot to kill.

[norea]

Hasibe's interpretation of a moment is pretty minimal- she follows Raylan as soon as she hears the shot, and what follows her is the force of her reaction, channeled into psychic whiplash. It sends one of the men toppling back over the balcony, and though it's not a far fall, he's winded long enough for Huan to find him.

Then there's a lot of screaming, snarling, and the remaining, uninjured man making a run for the stairs and the front exit.

[toooldforlosing]

"Oh, fuck me," Raylan says, standing over the man he shot. It caught him in the collar, and an artery. He puts pressure on the wound, but it's not going to help.

"That goddamn idiot." He may or may not mean himself.

[norea]

The other two are gone by now, out the front door, and Hasi drops the phone in her hand as she settles next to the man Raylan shot. She's getting his blood on her legs, but that doesn't seem to bother her. She can sense the hummingbird-beat of his heart as he tries to stay conscious and gingerly touches a hand to his forehead. It's meant to be soothing.

She looks askance at Raylan. He's going to die, isn't he?

[toooldforlosing]

He looks back at her and nods. He's bleeding too fast - by the time any help arrives, he'll already be gone.

"You ain't hurt?" He didn't see what happened after one went over the banister.

[norea]

"No. Are you okay?" She then directs her attention to the man on the floor. They only have a few minutes before he bleeds out, and she should probably figure out what they wanted next. "Hey, don't go to sleep- don't--come on. What did you want to find? Who are you?"

[toooldforlosing]

Raylan's hands are a mess from his attempt to slow the blood. "Come on, hang in there," he said, low. "What was all this about?"

[norea]

She doesn't really want to do this in front of Raylan, and thus there's a momentary eyedart of uncertainty before she cups the man's face in her hands and forces him to look at her. The compulsion is short and quick - more of a hypnotism done by meeting her (strange) eyes.

"Answer his question," Hasi suggests, and when their captive speaks, it's barely audible- she can compel him to talk, but she can't do anything about that bleeding out. Nothing that'd be natural, anyway.

"The books- the Hours--" His eyes flicker shut, and Hasi's jaw tightens.

"Come on, please--" There's a tiny break in her voice there, because she really, is not completely or even a fraction of okay with watching someone die here on her floor not again. It's not going to ever be something she can brush past.

[toooldforlosing]

"I didn't mean to hit him there," Raylan says, low and frustrated. It was supposed to be a flesh wound, a shot he could easily make accurately at that range, and yet...

"Do you know what he's talking about?"

[norea]

"Sort of."

She can tell when the life goes out of him, and that's when she lets go, rising...fairly unsteadily. The last dead man she saw in person was her husband, and she doesn't want to freak out in front of Raylan, who is clearly not having a good time, himself.

"I have these books- from Almos. There are...in Christianity, there are these these devotional books called the Book of Hours that could be personalized. I have three kinds, most of them twelfth century. One of them is- it has a bloody history."

She presses back against the wall, trying to steady her breathing and push down the flashing memories this corpse on her floor is bringing back.

[toooldforlosing]

He sits back on his heels, shirtless and bloody. They're going to have to call the cops, and it's going to be ten kinds of bad. He doesn't have a visa, he's a goddamn U.S. Marshal (who was being investigated for needlessly shooting people in the line of duty), she'd already been involved in some violence...

"Go get some water," he says, after a moment. "Doesn't look like the other two are coming right back."

[norea]

She shakes her head, minutely, tearing her gaze from the dead man to look at Raylan.

"I have to take care of this first."

Hasi has other ideas about calling the cops. She might have picked up the phone, but she never so much as dialed one digit.

[toooldforlosing]

"What're you gonna do?" he asked, low.