His words were cruel. "Boston? What the fuck is there for you in Boston?!"
Raury looked away, off to the far wall with the clock and the shelves of older books and scented candles; Anywhere that wasn't at his face which seemed stuck on a mask of irritated harshness. Muscled arms crossed as he waited for her to answer, but the Elf found it difficult to express the same level of elevated emotion her companion did.
"Work, Jabhak. The same reason I was here for the last few months."
"So what? You expect me to carry on some long distance relationship with you? Were you gonna give me any sort of heads up ahead of time? When are you leaving?" He hadn't moved in some time, his stance disciplined and his brow knit in frustration. "What the hell is going on with you?"
She could be cruel, too. "I'm not asking for anything. I'm just letting you know I'm leaving soon." Pausing to continue gathering up loose belongings scattered across the apartment she could easily identify, Raury continued with, "I don't want to try and keep this going. Neither of us think it's going to work, anyway. I certainly don't." The coldness to her tone matched the season, the gusts of chilled air lapping at the windows while her nonchalance had a way of cutting deep without full intention in doing so. Raury didn't want to hurt Jabhak, but she could. She would.
"Just like that? You're throwing away the last six months without a fucking second thought? What the fuck is wrong with you?" For the first time, his voice faltered, and as Raury turned to head for the door, he reached to grab her upper arm in attempt to anchor her presence to his. A feeble attempt, really. "Raury, fucking look at me- what is going on?"
In this moment, she would oblige her company, turning back to face Jabhak with the hint of a melancholic smirk teasing the corner of her lips. "I met someone new."
---
The bullet would find it's target square between the eyes within two seconds of leaving the barrel of her rifle. That quick. This model of Blaser was her favorite gun for assassination jobs, and as the distance erupted in screams and panicking voices, the elf was already slipping away through the snowy evening air with hit-kit in tow. Prints covered in newly fallen alabaster, the duffel bag slung over her shoulder was a small arsenal equipped for catering to most jobs she received on the fly; as professional as contract killing was expected to be. Raury was clean, timely, and forgettable in a crowd. It was more than dumb luck that send the woman tumbling down this path of chaos. Personally, Raury blamed a bunch of Ethian drug runners and her adopted mother's cocaine problem, but she didn't need a therapist to hear the tales of her youth.
She didn't need to pay someone to hear how fucked up her life had been until this point.
Sirens wailed and people ran, but Raury was several blocks away before police started a search for individuals with bags able to conceal weapons of the caliber used. She had been on that roof top for thirteen hours before that shot was made, just waiting for the right angle. Having not wanted to hit his wife accidentally, it took at least two hours of scrutinizing to ensure the Commissioner wasn't too close to his overly attached spouse. The hole in his head following the act was enough to send her reeling off to put as much space between their two persons as she could get on such short notice.
Good. Be miserable. Be alone. Fuck 'em.
Raury didn't take the Tram home. Instead, she walked the fourteen blocks with an almost apathetic stare hovering over the city streets in their gridlock pattern. Already, she hated it here. The smells, the sounds, the lights. The deserts were her home, the dry heat. This was temporary. A pit stop- a fill up station. Another hub to rake the underbelly of, because if nothing else, death was a commodity most Bostonians could see needing at one point or another. They didn't like one another anymore than the New Yorkers had, only racism here was just a pinch more noticeable. Fewer Bahmi, fewer Kelari, and Elves like her were looked at with narrowed gazes.
Cute shit, really. Raury was tan, and that made soccer mom's uncomfortable. Really fucking cute.
---
Features turned inwards to kiss his chest, the fair skin beneath her touch earning as much of her attention as she could afford to offer. Raury was always preoccupied; busy. Her mind didn't take breaks, and even in sleep, it continued a methodical grind of checklists to ensure things went perfectly. A smooth job was comforting. A choppy job was jarring. Gerra was a bit of both at once, yet not a job. A passion, perhaps. "I was reassigned to the Boston office." She stated matter-of-factly through the dim of their hotel room. The two didn't have many options when it came to privacy, and when their lives were so intricately entwined with the affairs of the Unseen, they took what solace they could. Having never felt guilt about much of anything, Gerra wasn't looked to as a mistake on her part. If anything, he was the one choice she had gotten right by some miracle of coincidental decision making.
Now she felt strange against his figure, using his bulkier torso to rest her cheek as the bombardment of worries persisted. "I won't see you for a while. Getting settled in always takes time..." She trailed off before muttering, "Just don't leave before the sun shows up, okay?"
---
A candle was lit, and with the flickering flame for guidance, the woman traipsed through the dark of her new apartment. Boxes and half unpacked storage containers littered the main hall, creating an obstacle course most would see as a nuisance. Raury just stepped over, and sidled by, and pirouetted past the mess. The clutter would be there until she was absolutely positive Boston was a short-lived stop in her already hectic life; it wouldn't be the first time she had been shuffled through the moving routine for work reasons. After all, an assassin was best at their job when they remained an anonymous figure. Raury had many names, and none of them were personal to the Elf. She didn't disclose personal information to anyone. Well, only to one person, sometimes. Some things.
Sentimental things that were meant to be shared with the individual this one held close to their heart... But that was her exception to a common sense rule. Don't share personal information with strangers. In Raury's mind, everyone was a stranger. Sometimes, even Gerra.
The screen on her phone was softly illuminated, the half battery life an indication of how long the power had been out in her neighborhood on the upper west side. Sighing, she swiped the touch screen with her thumb a few times before pulling up her texts, and instinctively held her breath to see what had been said in her nicotine fueled absence. If nothing else, messages from Gerra made her heart ache less. Three minutes past midnight; surely he was free.
Raury looked away, off to the far wall with the clock and the shelves of older books and scented candles; Anywhere that wasn't at his face which seemed stuck on a mask of irritated harshness. Muscled arms crossed as he waited for her to answer, but the Elf found it difficult to express the same level of elevated emotion her companion did.
"Work, Jabhak. The same reason I was here for the last few months."
"So what? You expect me to carry on some long distance relationship with you? Were you gonna give me any sort of heads up ahead of time? When are you leaving?" He hadn't moved in some time, his stance disciplined and his brow knit in frustration. "What the hell is going on with you?"
She could be cruel, too. "I'm not asking for anything. I'm just letting you know I'm leaving soon." Pausing to continue gathering up loose belongings scattered across the apartment she could easily identify, Raury continued with, "I don't want to try and keep this going. Neither of us think it's going to work, anyway. I certainly don't." The coldness to her tone matched the season, the gusts of chilled air lapping at the windows while her nonchalance had a way of cutting deep without full intention in doing so. Raury didn't want to hurt Jabhak, but she could. She would.
"Just like that? You're throwing away the last six months without a fucking second thought? What the fuck is wrong with you?" For the first time, his voice faltered, and as Raury turned to head for the door, he reached to grab her upper arm in attempt to anchor her presence to his. A feeble attempt, really. "Raury, fucking look at me- what is going on?"
In this moment, she would oblige her company, turning back to face Jabhak with the hint of a melancholic smirk teasing the corner of her lips. "I met someone new."
---
The bullet would find it's target square between the eyes within two seconds of leaving the barrel of her rifle. That quick. This model of Blaser was her favorite gun for assassination jobs, and as the distance erupted in screams and panicking voices, the elf was already slipping away through the snowy evening air with hit-kit in tow. Prints covered in newly fallen alabaster, the duffel bag slung over her shoulder was a small arsenal equipped for catering to most jobs she received on the fly; as professional as contract killing was expected to be. Raury was clean, timely, and forgettable in a crowd. It was more than dumb luck that send the woman tumbling down this path of chaos. Personally, Raury blamed a bunch of Ethian drug runners and her adopted mother's cocaine problem, but she didn't need a therapist to hear the tales of her youth.
She didn't need to pay someone to hear how fucked up her life had been until this point.
Sirens wailed and people ran, but Raury was several blocks away before police started a search for individuals with bags able to conceal weapons of the caliber used. She had been on that roof top for thirteen hours before that shot was made, just waiting for the right angle. Having not wanted to hit his wife accidentally, it took at least two hours of scrutinizing to ensure the Commissioner wasn't too close to his overly attached spouse. The hole in his head following the act was enough to send her reeling off to put as much space between their two persons as she could get on such short notice.
Good. Be miserable. Be alone. Fuck 'em.
Raury didn't take the Tram home. Instead, she walked the fourteen blocks with an almost apathetic stare hovering over the city streets in their gridlock pattern. Already, she hated it here. The smells, the sounds, the lights. The deserts were her home, the dry heat. This was temporary. A pit stop- a fill up station. Another hub to rake the underbelly of, because if nothing else, death was a commodity most Bostonians could see needing at one point or another. They didn't like one another anymore than the New Yorkers had, only racism here was just a pinch more noticeable. Fewer Bahmi, fewer Kelari, and Elves like her were looked at with narrowed gazes.
Cute shit, really. Raury was tan, and that made soccer mom's uncomfortable. Really fucking cute.
---
Features turned inwards to kiss his chest, the fair skin beneath her touch earning as much of her attention as she could afford to offer. Raury was always preoccupied; busy. Her mind didn't take breaks, and even in sleep, it continued a methodical grind of checklists to ensure things went perfectly. A smooth job was comforting. A choppy job was jarring. Gerra was a bit of both at once, yet not a job. A passion, perhaps. "I was reassigned to the Boston office." She stated matter-of-factly through the dim of their hotel room. The two didn't have many options when it came to privacy, and when their lives were so intricately entwined with the affairs of the Unseen, they took what solace they could. Having never felt guilt about much of anything, Gerra wasn't looked to as a mistake on her part. If anything, he was the one choice she had gotten right by some miracle of coincidental decision making.
Now she felt strange against his figure, using his bulkier torso to rest her cheek as the bombardment of worries persisted. "I won't see you for a while. Getting settled in always takes time..." She trailed off before muttering, "Just don't leave before the sun shows up, okay?"
---
A candle was lit, and with the flickering flame for guidance, the woman traipsed through the dark of her new apartment. Boxes and half unpacked storage containers littered the main hall, creating an obstacle course most would see as a nuisance. Raury just stepped over, and sidled by, and pirouetted past the mess. The clutter would be there until she was absolutely positive Boston was a short-lived stop in her already hectic life; it wouldn't be the first time she had been shuffled through the moving routine for work reasons. After all, an assassin was best at their job when they remained an anonymous figure. Raury had many names, and none of them were personal to the Elf. She didn't disclose personal information to anyone. Well, only to one person, sometimes. Some things.
Sentimental things that were meant to be shared with the individual this one held close to their heart... But that was her exception to a common sense rule. Don't share personal information with strangers. In Raury's mind, everyone was a stranger. Sometimes, even Gerra.
The screen on her phone was softly illuminated, the half battery life an indication of how long the power had been out in her neighborhood on the upper west side. Sighing, she swiped the touch screen with her thumb a few times before pulling up her texts, and instinctively held her breath to see what had been said in her nicotine fueled absence. If nothing else, messages from Gerra made her heart ache less. Three minutes past midnight; surely he was free.
RAJ says: But the power is out right now, so it's not like I'm up to anything. I half expect to get a call.
GA says: Maybe you will. Maybe not. Did your job earlier go well?
RAJ says: Boring. I'm stiff. Could use a back rub. ;(
GA says: You asking for one?
RAJ says: I could be.
Raury paused, blinking a few times at the screen before adding quickly,
RAJ says: Actually, yes. Come over. I'm also afraid of the dark.
GA says: I call bullshit.
RAJ says: Come see for yourself. I'm cowering and everything.
BDRP Admin. Writer. Villain. Personal Blog.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
« Next Oldest | Next Newest »
Winter Winds [closed] - by Kat - 09-06-2015, 05:21 PM
Winter Winds [closed] - by Kat - 09-06-2015, 06:01 PM
Winter Winds [closed] - by Kat - 09-22-2015, 01:35 AM
Winter Winds [closed] - by Kat - 09-22-2015, 03:25 AM
Winter Winds [closed] - by Kat - 09-29-2015, 01:36 AM
RE: Winter Winds [closed] - by Kat - 10-30-2015, 04:47 AM
RE: Winter Winds [closed] - by Kat - 01-12-2016, 02:13 AM