kore_logs | Catch-all Tunnel Log

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Catch-all Tunnel Log

Who: Raphael and Open
When: Day 121
Where: The tunnels
What: Failing all over the place
Notes: If you want something specific, just let me know.

Stane, some other warning, and then Gabriel had disappeared - Raphael hadn't wasted time in going to Michael and pointing out they needed to go - if it was an escape, then they could retrieve Gabriel.

They just hadn't know the tunnels bore complications.

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She quickly crouched down, her abilities were less than half of her true talent and her rigorous training allowed her to creep along almost silently.

She moved and waited, moved and waited, until she felt she was close enough that she'd be able to manage a strike with her knife if the man didn't do what she wanted him to.

Standing up, she cleared her throat to get his attention, knife fully brandished, standing slightly behind him unabashedly naked and very cut up.

"Do you have water? Food? I need them. Now."

Raphael might be failing all over - and he is, but he's also been a soldier since long before the Earth existed. So while he catches her later than he would have liked, he catches her sooner than non-trained humans would. So she already has his attention, even before she attempts to draw it - but even still, he glances over her, the cuts getting his attention rather than her nudity, then her knife. His sword is longer, he's taller. He'll draw it if he needs to, but he'd rather not.

He does in fact, have half a dozen chocolate covered espresso beans in a foil box inside his coat. But Gabriel made those and he won't give those away. Not with his brother gone. "I don't have either, no. Flashlight isn't even mine." There's no tell to the lie - he's too practiced at it. "One of my brothers may still have some, though." Not that Balthazar was close by. "Those cuts must be unpleasant."

"I don't beli- wait, I know you. You were in that church," She eyed him, her expression a mix of desperation and hunger, a frightening combination that made her look more predatory than usual.

"Black curly hair. Tan skin," She was sure he wouldn't remember her, "You swear you've got no water? I don't really give a shit about food. Justneedwater."

She looked down absently and her feet and legs didn't even look like her own. She could heal, but apparently that wasn't working either. "I'm fine. Unless, you're hiding a spare pair of shoes on you somewhere," Whether she's realized it or not she'd already lowered the knife.

"I don't care whether or not you believe me." It's almost cold, it's certainly dismissive of her feelings - he's too used to being in control to care.

But her next sentence stops any other comment, and he peers at her, eyes narrowed in an almost squint, head cocked. It's more birdlike than his normal headtilts. "I remember a girl. But no, I don't have any water. I don't drink." He could, he just didn't need to - normally.

As her knife was lowered, he relaxed only slightly. "No shoes, but I can spare my jacker. More protection from the debris and cold than skin."

"It was me. My powers are gone now. Ever since coming in here," She muttered. Of course, his answer about the water piqued her curiosity; there were certainly plenty of non-humans wandering around, and sadly she was more than a little preoccupied with more important things to really want to start asking him questions.

She eyed his coat warily as if she expected the whole thing was a trap, but eventually nodded. "Yea... I could use it.... but why the hell would you give it to me?"

"Everyone's are, it's not dissimilar from being too far out in the woods." He'd learned first hand about them - this must be what kept him from sensing passed them as well.

"Call a sense of unending mercy." He casually rolled his wrist and shifted his hand, a long, near two foot, tri-bladed short sword, slid into his hand, which he carefully tucked inside his belt for the moment. He opened up the jacket, pulling a small gold foil box from inside it - something rattled in it - putting it in a pants pocket, then drawing out a tiny glass vial of glitter with an angelically preserved quince blossom through the top, two sticks of chalk, and a pencil and putting them in the other, and the flashlight by the handle, before shrugging off the jacket to hand it to her. It's wool - not cheap - and warm from Raphael walking around in it.

"Here."

"I never went into the woods..." She mumbled, but immediately bared her teeth and took a defensive step back when he pulled out a blade of his own, once again holding up her small knife in his direction.

She stayed like that while he continued to empty his jacket, with every passing second the knife lowered a bit more. She still looked on edge, but definitely not about to fight for her life when he handed the coat to her.

"I'm sure your sword also has a lot of unending mercy," She practically snarled as she snapped the coat from his hand. She took another step back, feeling a little safe now that she was farther away from him.

Perhaps to Raphae's dismay, she made quick work of the coat, using her knife to cut it into pieces, two long strands to wrap her feet with, another to wrap a leaking cut on her thigh and two larger pieces that she used to wrap around her chest and hips. She looked like she was dressed up like a skanky mummy ready to go to a costume party, but it was better than walking around like she had been.

She looked down, gritting her teeth as she forced the word out, "Thanks."

"A wise move, there were many predators in the woods." Moving back was noted but otherwise ignored. So long as she didn't attack, his sword stayed were it was, more or less.

"I haven't had cause to use it in over two thousand years." Not that he wasn't just as practiced, he simply hadn't it on anything living in that time. Not that he hadn't killed in that time - just not with the point of his blade.

He didn't care if she cut it up, he could (would) replace it later, once his Grace was working again. In the mean time, he pulled his tie loose, using the point of his blade to carefully cut the threads holding it closed and sliding the blade into the tube of fabric, punching a hole about six inches from the end and drawing the rest of the length of the tie around it, then fussing with it for a moment while he loops it through his belt and ties it again, leaving the sword in a makeshift holster.

"You're welcome. More so given the word seems foreign on your tongue." Merciful he might be - it wasn't the same as being nice.

She narrowed her eyes at snarky remark about her very forced, very awkward 'thank you'. Not that he wasn't right, Mystique just hated that he'd pointed it out.

She took another step back, the dark starting to creep over her features.

"Good luck. Better watch how you use your light, there's no telling what kind of monsters it might attract down here," She added a dark grin and stepped further into the dark, backing away until she felt safe turning and slipping away.

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Catch-all Tunnel Log

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