CLOSED ♔ this failure has made the creator

[behindcloseddoors]

WHO || Rafael, Buffy
WHAT || Raf & Buffy find a hotel while laying low from Iscariot
WHERE || Outside Venice, Italy
WHEN || June 8th, 2014, morning.
HOW || Actionspam. Single thread.

Hunted by Iscariot, disheartened by revelations, and without a place to stay after finding Rafael's house burned down, Raf, Des, and Buffy found a hotel right outside Venice to stay at, paid in cash, and settled in for a few hours of sleep.  Des demanded his own room, so Buffy & Rafael are sharing (2 beds).  Fucking exhausted and drained, Raf sets down the keys and sits on the edge of his bed, rubbing his nose with his thumb and forefinger, and then flopping backwards.  

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[slay]

[ by the time buffy finally sits down on the edge of her bed, on the edge facing rafael’s, she’s shaking. exhaustion caught up about an hour ago, and now that they’ve stopped moving, there’s nothing else to focus on. she stares at her trembling fingers, feeling acutely fragile. finally, she closes one hand into a fist and looks up as rafael falls back. ]

Can I ask you something?

[ moving her hands to press into the mattress beside her, buffy hunches her shoulders and begins to toe off her shoes gingerly. she doesn't wait for confirmation. ]

Why do you want to come back with me to the Knights?

[romanticidal]

[ he stares up at the ceiling for a moment, before pushing back up to sitting with a sigh, feet hanging off the end of his bed so that he's not facing her directly. ] Is it not obvious?

[ maybe. maybe not. ] I wish to speak to Wynn. If you think he will speak to me.

[slay]

I think he will. [ wynn has never seemed the type to turn someone away that has it in them to do real good. he’d believed in buffy and spike when there was no reason to; he still tries to get des to join their ranks. he’ll make time. ] I just wanted to be sure what exactly you wanna talk to him about. [ because she realizes now, settling down, that maybe jumping to the rafael wants to be a knight conclusion was precisely that: a hasty conclusion. ]

[romanticidal]

Ah. That. [ he seems a bit reluctant, but as he slowly kicks off his shoes, it's clear why as he offers an explanation ] I did not mean to keep anything more from you, carina. You know this, I hope.

What you have learned about me tonight [ er, last night, whatever ] is something I have found... very difficult to reconcile with myself.

I think Wynn has met many men and women who have lost themselves. It seems a great part of what he does. I was hoping he may--

[slay]

[ despite his reluctance, she offers a weary smile and nods. even given what had transpired the night before, she believes that—and perhaps more importantly, she’s not looking for a reason not to. ] Have a way to help with the finding?

[ she’s afraid it sounds too hopeful, but the words slip out anyway. ]

If you want it, I'm sure you could have a place with us. You know that, right?

[romanticidal]

[ he finally looks over, staring at her with a conflicted expression for a long moment. ]

It would be nice, to believe such a thing. But--

Buffy, I have watched you and your friends for quite some time now. Watched you and how you face the challenges that come to you.

You've shown me what it means, to be the sort of person with honor who belongs to such a calling.

I am still a very far cry from such a man.

[slay]

[ as he looks over, buffy pushes up to stand on bare feet, toes curling against the thin carpet. her gaze holds firmly level on his. ]

But, you’re trying to reach it.

[ to her, it’s the only thing that matters. she has to believe that—if she didn’t, she’d have gone crazy by now. they’ve been striving to complete this mission for years; it’s all she can remember, and some days it hardly feels like they’ve made any progress. what’s worse, she’s watched it consume her friends and family and twist them into something that they’re not.

trying to reach is the best many of them can manage—certainly someone like buffy, who neither deserves to stand with myri or elena, nor succeeds in overcoming any of those challenges that rafael is praising her for. the one thing she could contribute is gone now, courtesy of iscariot. where does that leave her? ]

I’ve gotten to know you pretty well too, you know—but even before that … [ she weighs her words, deciding if she believes them fully enough to say. ] I’ve always been able to see the blood on your hands, Rafael. I think that’s part of why this has always felt so … [ (wis 20 total to ... self-analyze i guess.) so what? how does she describe the pull he has over her without making it sound like she’s twisting this into being about something different than the point. she lets it go, settling down to sit beside him on his bed. even before she learned the truth or realized why it was, she'd been drawn to him. the more she learned, the more that feeling was simply given context. now she feels certain saying it is something that she'd seen of herself in him. ]

There are always going to be dark parts of me; sometimes I feel like I can’t get through a day without choking on them. [ death follows her, plagues her in a way that she can’t explain. the harsh whisper in her ear. the blood pouring from the worst of her nightmares of lives that were never really her own. ] But that’s not all there is—because I don’t want it to be, and neither do you. I’ve seen light inside of you, and love. No matter how far off you think it is, you will reach it. I wanna be there with you when you step back into the light. [ she holds out one hand in offering, not going so far as to reach out to clasp his. ] I want to help you find your way. [ because she would venture to say that she knows better than anyone that it's impossible to stay there without people to support you and hold onto. because he belongs to this as much as she does, even if he can't see that like she does. ]

[romanticidal]

[ ♬ find my way - nine inch nails

he looks down at her hand as she speaks, and a tiny bittersweet smile touches his lips. he places his in hers, twining their fingers together and giving her hand a squeeze. ]

I do not know where I would be without you, carina. Some days... it frightens me to think.

[ he drags his eyes up to hers, pained gratitude mixed with a slight sense of wonder at the truth in his own words.

beyond him, the curtain flutters in front of the door to the balcony - a spot 10+ notices movement out there. something black steps out of view. ]

[slay]

[ she

crit failed.

that’s literally the only way for her to fail this spot check and it happened.

buffy, it seems, is too wrapped up in rafael’s eyes with a pained and hopeful expression. she wants nothing more than to help him get to where he can believe that he’s the man she thinks he is, to where he isn’t afraid of his own choices. ]

Let’s not find out.

[ her hand closes around his, dropping to rest between them on the edge of the bed. ]

[romanticidal]

Si. [ that's all he manages to say, before he tugs her hand gently but insistently as he shifts to lie down on the bed. there's nothing really suggestive about it, but it's clear that he wants her there with him as he sighs and presses his curly hair against the pillow, eyes drifting shut. ] We should get a few hours while we can.

[slay]

[ she settles in comfortably at his side, facing him and keeping her hand twined in his. her agreement comes in the movement, though even as his eyes close, hers remain open to study his countenance a moment longer, as if trying to memorize this moment. finally, a very nearly peaceful smile settles onto her face. her eyes shut. ]

[romanticidal]

[ sleepy italian is sleepy so she can hear his breathing even out beside her very quickly as he passes out almost immediately upon shutting his eyes.

there's only the sounds of the city outside, a moment of peace, and while buffy lingers on the edge of unconsciousness, she might not know if she's dreaming or awake when she hears an unfamiliar male voice say, as if right next to her ear, despite no one being there:

Buffy Summers.

there's nothing threatening in the abruptness of this, which is unsettling in itself because SHOULDN'T IT SET OFF ALARMS OR SOMETHING but instead she just feels remarkably at peace, as if this all only makes sense somehow.

she'd realize, without knowing how, that someone is here to speak with her, and that someone is right outside on the balcony. ]

[slay]

[ her wis is 10 so at first she just thinks it’s rafael, and her languid smile widen. she moves her free hand to settle against his chest, as if he needs the affirmation, but she realizes then that he’s still enough and his breathing’s slow enough that he is … not awake. and that wasn’t his voice.

in her mind.

yeah, ok, she’s sleep deprived. her eyes open and while one might think that would help her feel less like she’s dreaming, she’s drifting off to sleep with rafael after two months of not seeing him and a full 24 hours of horror, so that’s not so much. something surreal persists. she sits up, carefully disentangling her hand from his (move silently 26).

she hesitates for a moment, brushing her hand against his hair affectionately, then slips off the bed and paces over to pull the balcony door open, peering outside NEW AND IMPROVED SPOT 23. ]

[condemnatory]

[ ♬ aura - .hack//sign

it doesn't take much spotting. the balcony isn't very big, and just outside a few steps to the right of the sliding door stands in a man in a suit, with a black long coat over it.

he's a very ordinary sort of handsome, dark haired, dark eyed, and with a few care lines etched in his features, particularly between his brow. there's little about him that would be of note in a crowd, and yet he exudes a presence that's tangible, and the gaze he levels at her makes it seem as if the person looking at her is much, much more than he appears. ]

Hello, Buffy. [ his tone is conversational, a sort of casual wryness to his voice, that doesn't detract from the gravity of his demeanor. he speaks familiarly, as if he knows her. ] I apologize for... interrupting the moment.

[slay]

I get the feeling you wouldn’t do it if it weren’t important.

[ like honestly at this point she’s used to this shit. she’ll be more surprised when people don’t know who she is soon. still, she has to wonder whether this obvious heavy-hitter is playing for their side or another. more likely diagonally somehow.

she casts a quick look back inside, then shuts the door behind her. she walks to the railing, resting her hands on it and staring out. there’s no point in paranoia—if he wanted them dead, they already would be. ]

You gonna tell me how I should know you, or continue with the creeper-y stalker-y lack of introduction?

[condemnatory]

[ his lips twitch up for half a second at that, and he lays one hand on the railing beside him, looking out over the city. ] I'm not here to hide anything from you, Buffy.

Raphael promised you some answers. We all thought it best I be the one to come.

[ he looks back at her, offering her a very small smile before introducing himself. ] Michael. Although in some places, and some times, I go by the name of Gray.

[slay]

Raphae—

[ bewildered, she turns to look over at him sharply, then blinks hard as if somehow the act will bring greater clarity. ]

And you’re … [ nat 20 knowledge religion. yeah. ] Real?

[condemnatory]

[ he smiles tightly, looking down with a dry chuckle ] You know, it's almost a little offensive how many people, when faced with actual tangible evidence of the existence of demons, can come to grips with that side existing, and still doubt we do.

[slay]

Hey. In our defense, things have a way of favoring the worst.

[ like literally look at the day she has had. would you believe in angels. would you. ]

So, Raphael—the one who resurrected Jade? Who's the blonde with the extra dose of vague? [ this is how she distinguishes your angels, michael. very reverent. much affection. wow. ]

[condemnatory]

[ it's ok, he seems to find that descriptor entertaining ] Ah, yes. That would be Remliel. Getting straight to the point has never been his... preferred way of dealing with things.

[slay]

Seriously? I thought his job description was, like, mentor-y. You sure you promoted the right guy? [ weird. whatever. she blinks it away, moving on. she turns more fully sideways to face him bodily, leaning her hip against the railing. ] Okay. So, you’re angels. All of you. But so is Azrael, so what’s with the big turf war? Des said that you guys stole the copyright for his curse from her, but still won’t let him out of it. And then there’s all that … intervention-y weirdness about balances and—Hey, wait. How can you … is it because she saved us in Rome? [ WHAT HAPPENED TO NOT INTERVENING UNLESS THE OTHER DID IT FIRST. you are rocking the boat rn. ]

[condemnatory]

[ WOW SLOW YOUR ROLL find out angels exist and suddenly it's twenty questions at once

he's used to it, at least. ]

Azrael intervened directly to free Des from Iscariot hands, which has granted us some leeway, yes. The balance, as it stands, is maintained.

As for the ... turf war, I imagine I don't have to spell that out for you. Heaven's forces will always stand against that of the Enemy's.

[slay]

But she's an angel, too.

[ a beat. ]

... And actually, the only lady-angel so far. What's up with that? [ she's not saying sexism ok but ... coincidence ??? i think not. ]

[condemnatory]

[ something about that seems to strike him as particularly amusing, i guess, because he snorts. ] Strictly speaking, there are no 'lady' angels. There's also no male angels. We're not either sex, although when we appear before humans, we have to opt for one form or another for obvious reasons. Most of us are just set in our ways by now, but sometimes we'll alternate. Raphael more than any of us.

And of course Azrael is an angel. Lucifer and all those who rule in Hell are, although they've chosen to forsake the name for 'archdevil' instead. A very pointed statement, given that Lucifer and Azrael were once archangels themselves.

[slay]

[ ok well that’s all well and good but you didn’t see her crawling all over des. then again, des is bi, he probably doesn’t care. her expression shifts steadily from uncomfortable grimace to accepting realization, eyebrows arching up. well then.

right. ok. her need to protect des’ virtue from the angel of death—archdevil, apparently—is kind of secondary to everything that’s coming out right now. ]

So, the devil … It’s real, too. [ look at her being appropriately gender neutral. ] Am I supposed to feel flattered that we’ve got you for cheerleaders instead? [ she doesn’t. she doesn’t feel flattered at all—especially not with azrael up des’ ass. possibly literally. she hasn’t ruled that out, ok. ] What about Des’ curse? He said that you hold it now. Is that true? [ she'd like to believe it isn't: she'd like to believe that azrael was responsible for that information how and just turning des on them. ]