sometimes i dream i'm an exterminating angelblackeyedskankMay 31 2009, 07:12:49 UTC
There are a lot of things that Angel gets wrong about her both at the outset and after a certain period of time, but there are just as many things that he gets right. The downfall of being in a place like the City is that it provides her no outlet. She can't hide here, can't run to another state and dig deeper into demonic circles, move with big leagues and slit the throats of underlings who squeal. At best, she can lurk in the Underground until the monsters there get stale, until she needs to pop back out to see what's happening on the surface. And the City forces her to be social, to patronize, to stick her nose into business with more bravado than she would normally, draw attention to herself. It's a jagged comparison to the world that she used to live in, and while she can maintain her swagger normally, people who look closer, like Angel, see the pockmarks in her persona easily enough.
For a creature with no heart, she wears hers too obviously, and with every word that moves beyond his mouth, she tightens and tightens and tightens. The aching curve of her spine winds like a music box, forcing her straighter, as the gears in her mouth turn like clockwork, the odd and weird calm wiped off of her face as simple as a hand passing over glass. She sees the same possibility of parallel in Castiel that she does in Angel, not necessarily the same parallel but the same potential. She hates it as much as he refutes it.
"No," she eventually spews, head tipped down and lips pulled back. "No, you got it wrong. You wanted to see something. That's seeing something. I can't help it if you're blind." And maybe she hasn't given him all of her facts. She certainly hasn't explained what it means to be a demon with humanity, and the fact that he's not seeing it the way she wants him to is enough for her to deduce that it's a pointless endeavor and it was a mistake to bring it up in the first place. Ruby can't afford to make mistakes, not here, not anywhere, and her immediate reaction is to pack up and fuck off.
She cocks an eyebrow at him, her face serious for a moment, and then grins broadly as she shoulders past him, purposefully knocking into him, like they play on the same football team. All her walls are back up, her hackles raised. It's just another day.
sometimes i dream i'm an exterminating angelatonerMay 31 2009, 07:31:24 UTC
"Should you be doing that?" He turns quickly, almost in a rhythmic spin, to catch her back. "You're hurt, aren't you?" It's false concern, but an obvious exit from the conversation. Angel doesn't see a point in discussing who's right and wrong any further. Her last point is unnecessary, unclear-he does see something and she knows it. It has nothing to do with him or his own perspective, and she is retreating because there is no other way to go.
Angel walks up closer to push it, stopping right behind her so that a little bit of his coat even whips forward against the back of her leg, making it possible for her to see just how close he is. "You should have walked away sooner," he continues, and he lets it hang for a moment, like it's his only thought. There is the same smile, the need for it there, because there is no denying his victory at the end of this conversation. He not only won the fight, but he wins the game that never started, her retreating so desperately clearly turning it into that. "After all, you needed to get rest sooner than later."
There is no defense, just the taste of victory. He thinks to say more, but Angel's brand of smug is different from most. If it were her win, he has no doubt she would be doing the same. The only difference is there would be nothing to gain, no play upon weaknesses, while hers are bared to the world.
sometimes i dream i'm an exterminating angelblackeyedskankMay 31 2009, 07:48:01 UTC
Ruby stops, her head tilted slightly to the side as if she's listening to something very far away. With her head in this position, she can almost see him, and he looms like a shadow in her peripheral vision, just another dark figure on a dark night. This one is only slightly more annoying than the majority of the ones she's been forced to deal with, and he's one of the few she's walked away from without having disposed of first.
She is hurting, more than she has in a long, long time, but it doesn't stop her. She would pull the aching bones out of her body and sharpen them to stab if it was necessary. It will take longer than a day for her own abilities to heal the body faster, and Ruby briefly wonders how long it's going to be before the City decides to kill the meat altogether. And she doesn't explain away the conclusions that he makes. It's none of his business what she can and cannot do now, no matter how insubstantial a fact, even if it could be written away with a simple 'I got the VIP healing kit.' Her doors have all been slammed.
When she turns halfway around, she's surprised at just how close he is standing to her. Ruby expected and knew that he was close, her senses prickling better than ever, but even the touch of his coat against her leg had been surprising and interesting enough to be misleading. Her face remains impassive, however: eyes calm, focused, mouth a pale, red slash that only curls up at one side now. "Are you going to attack me again?" she asks, honest but remarkably unafraid and bored. It's as if she's asking him if he plans on passing the salt.
sometimes i dream i'm an exterminating angelatonerMay 31 2009, 08:10:57 UTC
Angel recalls their previous way of departing, how she slipped off into the shadows. Drawing that last minute up in his memory is necessary as he stands there, considering her question, and looking down at her. The answer is clearly "no," but he finds it curious that she would even ask that. Is that what she wants? Would that be easy? Or is a throwaway one? Analyzing it doesn't benefit him as much as he would like, so he doesn't. "I didn't attack first," he tells her, simply. Matter of fact works. "So why would I attack again?" I already won. Unspoken, but it emanates in the air enough as if it is.
He leans toward her then, drawing their faces close enough together that there is no personal space, but not close enough. This would be more effective if he chose to do it the same way as she had, mouth to ear, but he likes it this way. It's more direct, as if she can't avoid it. "Have a good night, Ruby. Rest up." His hand raises and presses against her shoulder in a comforting pat twice, before he pulls back, steps away, and turns. This isn't a retreat to make small talk before they part. This is a full retreat, slip into the shadows, with the sound of his coat being the last sound before he's gone.
sometimes i dream i'm an exterminating angelblackeyedskankMay 31 2009, 08:29:13 UTC
She doesn't look away when he's up in her face, though her expression changes from what it had been before to something akin to a teenager being lectured by an overbearing parent. When he's gone, Ruby lingers in the shadows for a minute after he's gone. She hadn't been given the answer that she wanted, but then that's becoming a constant with him, too, isn't it? There is a lingering buzz where his hand had settled on her shoulder, and she feels rather than knows her face is pinched both in mental discomfort at him touching her at all and confusion at the prospect.
Ruby feels herself shifting and altering by degrees, tiny little clicks of her person that she doesn't like but can't stop, and the only response the body she's wearing has is to meld itself more firmly to her. Her back hurts, her face stings, and she desperately wants to kill something just to see it suffer for the first time in a long time. But not as much as she wants to walk across the street and pour a pound of ketchup onto an appetizer plate and eat french fries.
It's the last thought that she has before she turns to leave, and then as suddenly as she appeared there, she's gone.
For a creature with no heart, she wears hers too obviously, and with every word that moves beyond his mouth, she tightens and tightens and tightens. The aching curve of her spine winds like a music box, forcing her straighter, as the gears in her mouth turn like clockwork, the odd and weird calm wiped off of her face as simple as a hand passing over glass. She sees the same possibility of parallel in Castiel that she does in Angel, not necessarily the same parallel but the same potential. She hates it as much as he refutes it.
"No," she eventually spews, head tipped down and lips pulled back. "No, you got it wrong. You wanted to see something. That's seeing something. I can't help it if you're blind." And maybe she hasn't given him all of her facts. She certainly hasn't explained what it means to be a demon with humanity, and the fact that he's not seeing it the way she wants him to is enough for her to deduce that it's a pointless endeavor and it was a mistake to bring it up in the first place. Ruby can't afford to make mistakes, not here, not anywhere, and her immediate reaction is to pack up and fuck off.
She cocks an eyebrow at him, her face serious for a moment, and then grins broadly as she shoulders past him, purposefully knocking into him, like they play on the same football team. All her walls are back up, her hackles raised. It's just another day.
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Angel walks up closer to push it, stopping right behind her so that a little bit of his coat even whips forward against the back of her leg, making it possible for her to see just how close he is. "You should have walked away sooner," he continues, and he lets it hang for a moment, like it's his only thought. There is the same smile, the need for it there, because there is no denying his victory at the end of this conversation. He not only won the fight, but he wins the game that never started, her retreating so desperately clearly turning it into that. "After all, you needed to get rest sooner than later."
There is no defense, just the taste of victory. He thinks to say more, but Angel's brand of smug is different from most. If it were her win, he has no doubt she would be doing the same. The only difference is there would be nothing to gain, no play upon weaknesses, while hers are bared to the world.
Reply
She is hurting, more than she has in a long, long time, but it doesn't stop her. She would pull the aching bones out of her body and sharpen them to stab if it was necessary. It will take longer than a day for her own abilities to heal the body faster, and Ruby briefly wonders how long it's going to be before the City decides to kill the meat altogether. And she doesn't explain away the conclusions that he makes. It's none of his business what she can and cannot do now, no matter how insubstantial a fact, even if it could be written away with a simple 'I got the VIP healing kit.' Her doors have all been slammed.
When she turns halfway around, she's surprised at just how close he is standing to her. Ruby expected and knew that he was close, her senses prickling better than ever, but even the touch of his coat against her leg had been surprising and interesting enough to be misleading. Her face remains impassive, however: eyes calm, focused, mouth a pale, red slash that only curls up at one side now. "Are you going to attack me again?" she asks, honest but remarkably unafraid and bored. It's as if she's asking him if he plans on passing the salt.
Reply
He leans toward her then, drawing their faces close enough together that there is no personal space, but not close enough. This would be more effective if he chose to do it the same way as she had, mouth to ear, but he likes it this way. It's more direct, as if she can't avoid it. "Have a good night, Ruby. Rest up." His hand raises and presses against her shoulder in a comforting pat twice, before he pulls back, steps away, and turns. This isn't a retreat to make small talk before they part. This is a full retreat, slip into the shadows, with the sound of his coat being the last sound before he's gone.
Reply
Ruby feels herself shifting and altering by degrees, tiny little clicks of her person that she doesn't like but can't stop, and the only response the body she's wearing has is to meld itself more firmly to her. Her back hurts, her face stings, and she desperately wants to kill something just to see it suffer for the first time in a long time. But not as much as she wants to walk across the street and pour a pound of ketchup onto an appetizer plate and eat french fries.
It's the last thought that she has before she turns to leave, and then as suddenly as she appeared there, she's gone.
Reply
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