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Post by Silva on Apr 16, 2014 19:27:52 GMT -5
There were better notes to end an acquaintance on than that. He sometimes found himself thinking about the scene of their parting, without any feelings he could identify as sentimental -- while his wrath had cooled, it left him with a needling sense of inconclusiveness, a dissatisfaction that itched in his bones like a plan only half-executed, and such an abrupt parting from the girl left loose ends exposed that in the long term might prove dangerous. Maybe some part of him enjoyed the thought of reeling her back in, the same part of him that knew what he'd only dimly suspected at first. For a man who had been stripped of all illusions regarding the world he could be strangely superstitious, particularly about blood.
And he had always enjoyed a puzzle; something to occupy his higher faculties while the broad spectrum of his attention was being wasted on mopping up a tiresome mess for some uninventive Irishman. Hunting the girl down and seeing how she'd fared in the aftermath had been only an idle fancy, and he was good at tracking people, that's what got him into this mess.
Some parts of Europe were still stubbornly resistant to the concept of digital record-keeping, but Silva had scraped up as much about the girl as existed in that sphere and moved on to Veidt properties. It was diverting stuff; he did most of the typing with a coffee cup in his free hand, slouching back conscientiously to keep it clear of anything important. It wasn't an uncommon scene to find him in early in the morning; he liked to get an early start, to kick off the morning in an important way after the requisite exercises and procedures but before getting dressed for the day's battles, and there were few incentives to stay in bed. The Hong Kong skyline had already begun to wake up as well outside their window.
Silva punched in a few keystrokes with stiff fingers and leaned forward again, mildly interested.
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Severine
- Masterful Virgin -
how much do you know about fear?
Posts: 10
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Post by Severine on Apr 16, 2014 20:10:47 GMT -5
The first noise beyond urban ambiance was the familiar sound of typing.
He'd given her pills for dreamless sleep and she'd taken them, as grateful today as she had been all those years ago when they had been first presented to her, but sometimes dreams, however horrible, left clues.
It would have, for instance, been useful to know who she was waking up besides.
She was sure he knew she was awake before she wanted him to know; her breathing or stillness might give it away. Or perhaps it was paranoia; perhaps his cameras and his eyes everywhere had led her to assume he knew more than she wanted him to, so much so that she barely bothered keeping secrets. In any case there seemed to be little use in pretending she was still asleep, for if he did catch on he might wonder why she tried to deceive him, and she wanted to be as transparent as possible, in order to be as safe as possible.
She planned a countdown in her head and sat up on three, but not so swiftly it looked like she had somewhere to go. Rubbing her eyes on the back of her hand, she reached for the silk robe nearby, and began pulling it over her nakedness.
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Post by Silva on Apr 16, 2014 20:21:05 GMT -5
Silva didn't glance up; he had heard her wake up, had almost felt it, and keeping track of her movements came quite naturally to him. He made a few more decisive-looking strikes at the keyboard.
"Ah, the princess stirs!"
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Severine
- Masterful Virgin -
how much do you know about fear?
Posts: 10
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Post by Severine on Apr 16, 2014 20:24:31 GMT -5
"She's thinking about showering," said Severine relatively straightforwardly, lifting her heavy mass of hair from the back of her robe before she closed and tied it.
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Post by Silva on Apr 16, 2014 20:34:37 GMT -5
(He was naked to the waist, a mess of scars, still faintly pink from hot water.)
"And she's welcome to it," Silva said affably. "There's coffee by the sink."
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Severine
- Masterful Virgin -
how much do you know about fear?
Posts: 10
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Post by Severine on Apr 16, 2014 20:40:31 GMT -5
Severine drifted into the bathroom to shower.
As ever, she felt torn between her longing to feel clean, her love of privacy... and her constant fear that when she was alone, he was judging her for it, perhaps thinking she was avoiding him. If he got that opinion, she wasn't sure how she could cover that damage. It's hard to convince someone of a falsehood, after all.
Deciding that he generally disliked being bothered while working enough to possibly feel thankful she was out of the way, she let herself relax. Then she let herself take the necessary time in the bathroom to apply moisturizer and dry all of her hair.
When she came out, still wearing nothing but the robe, she went straight to the coffee, and asked if he wanted another cup, if she should bring it.
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Post by Silva on Apr 16, 2014 20:55:41 GMT -5
He did glance up then; if she had been someone else he might have commented on the robe, or at least have looked her over approvingly, but they seldom really needed words any more and he felt she might not appreciate the commentary.
"Yes. Please. How are you feeling?"
(Silva scarcely expected a real answer, but if she had something to say about the day ahead of them, it didn't hurt to give her an opening to say it in.)
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Severine
- Masterful Virgin -
how much do you know about fear?
Posts: 10
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Post by Severine on Apr 16, 2014 21:00:01 GMT -5
Was this a test?
If it was, she suspected any answer was a failing mark.
"Well," she said, bringing him coffee - she didn't have to ask how he took it.
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Post by Silva on Apr 16, 2014 21:04:38 GMT -5
Silva laughed quietly, brushing her sleeve with his free fingertips after taking the cup.
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Severine
- Masterful Virgin -
how much do you know about fear?
Posts: 10
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Post by Severine on Apr 16, 2014 21:09:01 GMT -5
Severine leaned against the windowsill nearby, steading herself as she sipped her coffee, before turning her glance back at him. He had barely changed, even as her perception had. She sometimes felt the world was twisted a bit around him - that he didn't change so forcefully that his immediate surroundings always seemed unreal. But of course she had grown. Many years ago, she could not have envisioned this life. Now she woke up to it, girded herself, and slipped into it like a robe lain out for her to wear, every morning.
"Did you have Daudin shot?" she asked point-blank.
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Post by Silva on Apr 16, 2014 21:21:10 GMT -5
Silva was very still then, and not very affable. His moods could change like this, at the slightest notice, and everyone knew it; even he didn't always know which way the winds would blow next, whether he'd be splittingly cruel or let the matter rest.
"Naturally. I have very little tolerance for mistakes."
They were the words of a tyrant, he knew, and they left his mouth with a grim kind of humor.
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Severine
- Masterful Virgin -
how much do you know about fear?
Posts: 10
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Post by Severine on Apr 16, 2014 21:26:23 GMT -5
Severine looked out the window, plotting her next move, which wasn't much of a scheme - in this case she was figuring out where she had left a pack of cigarettes, how to get them, and when.
"You should not have left it up to him," said Severine, turning and walking away then, counting the steps in her head before she reached the coatrack. But she moved slowly enough to feel the sway of her own hips, to choose a manner of walking that did not seem for even a second as though she wanted to head out the door, was even pondering doing it when she was dressed later.
She'd have offered him a cigarette, but she didn't think he would want to smoke one of hers - they were women's fashion cigarettes. She hadn't smoked anything else in years.
She sought the bottom of the coat pocket even though she knew there was nothing else in it, and lifted her eyes to his, tilting her head, her hair falling back.
"Do you have a light?"
Let him see that she too could talk business with ease, that she too could face life or death and still be bored enough to want a cigarette. (This was a long performance, and she had not sung her final song yet, not yet.)
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Post by Silva on Apr 16, 2014 21:46:19 GMT -5
If you'd have told him thirty years ago that he'd be sitting in a locked room with a beautiful nearly-naked woman and that he'd feel nothing, nothing but the same agitation and impatience that characterized waking brain function whether alone or not -- it would have been surprising news. She was familiar, reliable, and a person grows accustomed to wearing the same gun at their hip for a decade. It betokened some level of affection.
"I'm sure I must," he said, like an indulgent uncle, and began picking through his briefcase for a lighter or at least a matchbook. The text on the screen still blinked at him. "Open the window, the air's gone stagnant."
Being in a room with too-still air, especially in the heat, gave him the same creeping feeling of unease as rising floodwaters -- it could always get worse.
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Severine
- Masterful Virgin -
how much do you know about fear?
Posts: 10
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Post by Severine on Apr 17, 2014 0:02:00 GMT -5
It threw a wrench in any romanticization of the image - it couldn't be the cover of an erotic novel when the woman was the one who turned around and jimmied the window up. It was a nice hotel, though - they'd stayed in lesser hotels, but not often - and it didn't make the noise it could have in certain other of the places they'd been together in the past.
It drew some distant memories like pulling poison from a wound - a very, very faint memory of thick summer air and the smell of a massage oil, and the sussurrations of the pillowcase as he turned his head and asked her to turn the fan - and like pulling poison from a wound, the pain ebbed away. But for Severine it swiftly returned, and she found herself blinking almost blearily.
She sat at the edge of the bed gently, her back towards the screen, so that he need not fear she was prying. Not that she'd understand a thing she saw, and not that she hadn't seen glimpses over the years. More glimpses, she believed, than anyone else.
She held her cigarette out.
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Post by Silva on Apr 17, 2014 10:12:44 GMT -5
It took some effort to get the choking feeling to sink down again and to shoo the specters of old scenery out of his thoughts. He struck a match and for a moment his gaze fixed on the flame keenly before finding it to his satisfaction and letting it gutter out in a trail of smoke; he rose and went to light her cigarette with another, like a diligent swain who could afford the waste of materials.
"I'll be needing someone capable to pick up the slack, with my usual man for the job dead," he said conversationally, pinching out the second match once he'd finished and letting her have a little space. It would have pleased him for a moment at least to press his face to her damp hair, but that was more than he was in the market for at the moment and the memory would have stung. "Anyone you might suggest?"
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