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birthright_rpg2014-03-10 09:51 pm
st_clare) wrote in birthright_rpg2014-03-10 09:51 pm
Coming to Terms
Perhaps things had been going too well.
The bonding process with Valerie was still a work in progress, but the building blocks had been established. Her students were responding well in her classes. She was writing a new paper to be published, on the class system of the Victorian age. So a little bump in the road should have been expected.
What a bump in the road it was, though.
She and Rhiannon had agreed to meet in a neutral spot at one o'clock on Monday afternoon. The weather was warming up as spring approached, the days lengthening as Daylight Savings Time went into effect. Julianna had seated herself on a wooden bench where the Slayer could find her, where they wouldn't be overheard. She was composed, a little removed.
Duncan Neely's death had actually made the Las Vegas papers, and it was suspected to be a break-in gone horribly wrong. That was no longer Julianna's primary concern. If what she suspected was correct, it was really no more than he deserved. She didn't - couldn't - condone murder, but she was pragmatic enough to know that history had a way of repeating itself. With Duncan permanently taken care of, no other innocent girls could be exploited for the purpose of lining his pockets.
If the other girl was still alive, Rhiannon would know of it. The living should be focused on now, not the deserving dead.
The bonding process with Valerie was still a work in progress, but the building blocks had been established. Her students were responding well in her classes. She was writing a new paper to be published, on the class system of the Victorian age. So a little bump in the road should have been expected.
What a bump in the road it was, though.
She and Rhiannon had agreed to meet in a neutral spot at one o'clock on Monday afternoon. The weather was warming up as spring approached, the days lengthening as Daylight Savings Time went into effect. Julianna had seated herself on a wooden bench where the Slayer could find her, where they wouldn't be overheard. She was composed, a little removed.
Duncan Neely's death had actually made the Las Vegas papers, and it was suspected to be a break-in gone horribly wrong. That was no longer Julianna's primary concern. If what she suspected was correct, it was really no more than he deserved. She didn't - couldn't - condone murder, but she was pragmatic enough to know that history had a way of repeating itself. With Duncan permanently taken care of, no other innocent girls could be exploited for the purpose of lining his pockets.
If the other girl was still alive, Rhiannon would know of it. The living should be focused on now, not the deserving dead.
no subject
Julianna's expression shifted subtly, and her hands bunched into tighter fists. It might have been the flat way Rhiannon spoke. Or maybe it was Allison's ghost tip-toeing invisibly up to them. Another girl whose path had been altered by Slayerhood, only in this case she hadn't lived long enough to be bitter and angry.
"I'm glad he's...gone," the Watcher said finally, trying to battle her emotions back into place. "I know that he hurt you. It was unconscionable. And perhaps I should have..."
You will not apologize. It was Mother's voice, crisp and instructive. Not when she uses everything you say as a cudgel. Don't you have enough guilt without taking on the responsibility for what someone else did?
But she was remembering Allison's eyes as the life faded out of them, and a flicker of grief visited her expression before disappearing again. She straightened her spine, unconsciously mirroring the Slayer's more erect posture. The sun was warm on her shoulders and the back of her neck.
"Every life lost or destroyed is worth mourning," Julianna said quietly. "Almost every life. And while I know it's not something you're looking for, I'm glad you finished things before he could."
no subject
There was no way to admit what she’d done. Not really. If there was ever an investigation, it would come down to Julianna’s word against hers and Rhiannon knew how that would go. Besides, it would only confirm the woman’s suspicions of her as a loose canon, a thing that Rhiannon was not. Vengeful, yes. Sad, frustrated, guarded, but not a loose canon. So even if Julianna thought it was forgivable, Rhiannon could not say the thing she’d done out loud.
“Look, I don’t want to have anything to fear from the Council,” said Rhiannon. “So that means they can’t think that I killed him. They need to see me exactly as I am. Julianna… I’m just a slayer who’s doing her job. I stake vampires. I tend bar and pay most of my bills. I draw. I write. I go to mass. I smoke cigarettes and I drink too much. I’m in love. I try to stay on the right path. That’s it.”
no subject
"Who can say what really happened?" Julianna asked, her shoulders lifting slightly. "I wasn't there. I'm sure the authorities will investigate properly, but as I said, this is a dangerous city. Houses get burgled all the time. And we agree Duncan was a bad man. Bad men have bad associations. That was the risk he signed up for, hmm?"
Rhiannon wasn't going to admit having killed the man, and perhaps that was best. As long as Julianna wasn't certain as to what had happened, there was nothing to tell. And no reason to get in touch with Cyrus Claymore. If the Slayer had done it, she couldn't say she approved, but she could understand, and perhaps that was enough.
"The Council won't bother you over this," the Watcher said, forcing the words past the part of herself that couldn't condone this. "Not because of me. As far as anyone at headquarters knows, you're not even in Nevada anymore. So you'd be the last suspect."
Julianna shrugged again, a gesture of acceptance. "I'm a Watcher," she said evenly, maintaining the eye contact with Rhiannon. "A woman just past the cusp of sixty. I read, go to films, cook because I enjoy it, although clean-up is something I loathe. I have a man I like and a career I love. I am not the devil. I rather suspect that neither of us are as bad as the other would believe, but I don't need proof of that if you don't."
It was as close to extending an olive branch as she could get, all that her pride - and guilt - would allow. If they could make even an uneasy peace, she'd settle for it.
no subject
Rhiannon propped her sunglasses on her head and wiped at the inner corners of her eyes. When she refocused, she was staring at the short, spiked blades of grass before their feet, the ground’s meager offering for an early spring.
“For what it’s worth, I loved being in England. I loved everything about it. It’s why I got so angry... I was such an easy mark, for all of it. There is nothing they could’ve asked me to do that I wouldn’t have done. Literally nothing I wouldn’t have given up.” If there was grief in her voice, it was because Rhiannon had traded away a piece of identity when she became a slayer, and another when she disavowed herself of the Council, and those were pieces she believed she’d never get back.
“By the way, I threw out the stone,” she added as an afterthought. She slid the glasses back onto her nose.
no subject
Now she was thinking of both Valerie and Allison. The former, who was trying to live, and the latter, who had never gotten the chance. Julianna coughed quietly, covered her mouth with one hand.
"And the training program is different for everyone," she said in a muted voice. "Some girls are more receptive than others. Take to instruction as if they were born to it. That's not a negative thing. Perhaps it's why you've lived so long."
It was almost a compliment, and Julianna did them both the service of keeping her eyes on the trees. She'd eaten breakfast, but had skipped lunch to get some writing done before coming here. That meant something to eat would have to be procured soon.
"I don't suppose there's anything else you'd like to cover, is there?"
no subject
“No.”
There really wasn’t. Coming to a truce of sorts was remarkable progress, and she didn’t expect it to go further, maybe not ever, but definitely not today. If the universe wanted it, they’d wind up communicating and working together in the future. White hats had a way of developing common enemies.
“Good luck with Valerie,” she said. “I know she’s probably not your first slayer, but I hope she’s your last. That sounds off, but you know what I mean.” She stood up and although it felt like a karmic load had been released, Rhiannon also felt drained. She was about to go when it struck her that there was one last thing to say.
“Oh, um, the girl…” she snapped her fingers. “Her name was Iliana Romano. Maybe she went home. That’s what I would have done. Bye.” She stuck her thumbs in her hip pockets and left the park bench, thinking that it'd be a while before she headed for home. She needed to clear her head.
no subject
Was that the first time she'd used the brunette's given name since they'd met? Julianna couldn't remember. She watched the Slayer's retreating form for a minute, then rose from the bench and headed towards the lot where she'd left her car.
Illana Romano. Italian? Perhaps she'd contact someone in local law enforcement and discreetly inquire about the girl. Or perhaps she'd let the matter lie, along with Duncan's corpse. If there was a hell, she hoped he was in it.