sweethymns | Mι∂ηιgнт ιη Ƥαяιѕ

[Holy shit.

Yeah, she's in a deep pit of trouble now, isn't she? Iona almost trips, but manages to avoid it so she can match her pace with Gus. She's really grateful to Oren for the simple dress now. Anymore layers and she'd have been tripping all over and be a real burden (although if they're gonna have to keep this up, she might as well rip off the skirt).

She yells at Gus as they get out to the back.]

Alright! I didn't mean to have someone get actually HIT in the face, but sure! That happened!

Friends of yours?!

Edited 2015-06-11 08:49 (UTC)

Best friends!

[ He says, but his expression's hardened, brows furrowed in his first genuine frown since they've met: his features almost flatten in concentration as his mind maps an efficient escape route, vivaciousness cast aside in favor of practicality. His tone remains light, though, in an effort not to frighten Iona. ]

...Stay in front of me, don't show them your back!

[ He bursts through the back door and out into a small alley, swerves the both of them down a dark corner and into a spiderweb of smaller sidestreets.

If she hears a 'click', that's the sound of him undoing the safety of the pistol he'd kept tucked in the back of his pants. ]

[OH C'MON.

Well. Can't say that Iona isn't willing to adapt to life or death situations. She listens to him, but takes a deep breath herself in between those microseconds of pausing. She needs to let her magic run through her veins so that her spellcasting, should she be forced to do so, can be powerful and accurate. Accuracy, being more favored here. The innate magic mixed with the crystal's energy in her right arm courses throughout her being, like electricity being lit up and her pace becomes sharper and quicker.]

Are you sure you're gonna be okay?

[She asks about him, instead of herself, oddly enough. Because if worse comes to worst, she'll be...]

Also, let me guess; police ain't helpful in situations like these?

Edited 2015-06-11 09:02 (UTC)

—Don't really want to rely on them, actually!

[ That would entail a lot of messy things on the side, and no, it wouldn't be particularly helpful. It would entail having to sort out the good cops from the bad cops, and which faction his family has influence over, and it always turns into a lot of breaking and purging that Gus, most of all, doesn't want his brother to get mixed up in. Because he inevitably does— it's all the dirty work that falls into Claude's lap, and Gus'd like to avoid that, if he can.

There's a gunshot, and a piece of stone falls from the wall where a bullet hit, a few feet away from Gus's head. He doesn't flinch, and keeps on running up a flight of stairs. ]

I'll be alright, we can split up at the next intersection!

I'm beginning to see why it's hard to keep a date 'round these parts for you!

[She means it as a joke really! She flinches at the gunshot, but keeps going up the stairs as well. At his next stated course of action, she yells back flabbergasted.]

Split up?! Are you sure about that?!

You'll get hurt if you stick around with me!

[ Which is something he wants to avoid: if he can get her to take shelter somewhere while he shakes off his pursuers, that's ideal for him. ]

You should find somewhere to hide!

[She probably shouldn't be turning to look back at him, but she does and Iona replies to Gus with a very flat:]

Oh, HELL no I won't.

[And she's grabbing his arm with her right hand, with considerable force and dragging him up to the rooftop. She calls out to Oren, already formulating a messy, but quickest plan she can think of in her mind.]

OREN! Meet you on the other side!!

[He's been there the whole time after all! And he already understands what Iona's planning and is going to act accordingly. To Gus, Iona holds onto his hand firmly as they reach the roof.]

Trust me, you're gonna thank me for this.

[ Alright, he's officially Lost: he's a sharp thinker, but he hasn't accounted for this scenario, and it blindsides him enough that he doesn't think to shake off her grip or to pull away. His feet teeter forwards with momentum, adrenaline keeping them going despite the fact that he really doesn't agree with this decision. ]

What the— hey, this isn't a joke!

[ Feet skid to a halt on the edge of the roof, his hand tightening around the grip of his pistol. ]

You can't stay here, you have to go!

Honey, don't think for one second you're the only capable pair of hands on deck here.

[Danger is no stranger to Iona and least of all, Oren. She can hear people coming up the stairs after them. No time to mince words because it's do or die and well, she kind of wants to avoid the latter. There's seemingly no one at the bottom to meet them, but it's not stopping Iona who's already stepping gingerly on the edge of the roof.]

Alright, don't blink!

[... And now she's falling backwards and pulling Gus with her. Her confidence in this action is staggering, but...]

[... Waiting for the two outside at the bottom is a pair of strong arms, catching both Iona and Gus, one in each after Iona lets go of Gus's hand. Oren, barely moves an inch as their weights sink into him. It's like they barely weigh anything at all.

Oren nods at Iona who balances herself on his shoulder and then looks at Gus whom he's grabbed around the torso.]

Iona. Sir.

[They're probably not quite out of the woods yet, but thank god for Iona's co-worker, right?]

[ Well. He's flying, suddenly, feet above ground and sky, sky all around him—

—until gravity pulls him and he yells, a distinctly undignified whoa that gets swallowed in the seams of Oren's jacket.

This is a weird week. ]

...Gus.

[ He corrects, limp in the crook of Oren's arm, resigned to the fact that he has no idea what he's just walked into. His deflation is only momentary, though— the crack of a gun cues him in to the fact that they're still not out of the woods, yet. ]

—Hey, hey! Run!

[Oren dodges the bullet, turning around and making a sharp right. He's incredibly fast for someone who's carrying two people. When there a fair distance away, Iona gives him an order.]

Drop me, hold onto him!

[And without a secondary pause, Oren obeys, letting his mistress land on her feet and whip around to see that they're still being chased.]

Just how many goons are there-...!

[Her potentially snarky commentary is cut off by the sight of one of the men in black suits, whipping out a gun and pointing it straight at Gus. There's not much time to think; her partner may have Gus, but that doesn't mean the latter is invulnerable while in his one arm.

Their real adversary isn't Oren anyways; there's another loud shot, a muffled noise of impact, and suddenly silence. Why?

Oren turns around and sets Gus down so that he has a good look at what has just occurred. The men in suits stare, shocked and confused at the woman who stuck out her right hand to block the path of the bullet that was meant for Auguste Aubert. Her hand is curled into a fist with smoke rising out of the palm. The right sleeve of her dress has disintegrated due to the crackling of magical energy that encircles her arm and the image of her arm begins to flicker in and out until it completely reveals the mineral veins and crystals embedded on the surface.

Iona stretches said arm and straightens up, opening up her fist to reveal the bullet she just caught.]

Uh, how do they say it here... Merde? Yeah. Merde. This is a first.

[She tosses the bullet playfully in the air before catching it between her fingers.]

[ Ah.

Ok.

........ok.

That's the general sentiment of everyone surrounding the trio right now, including the one guy still being toted around like a big dog under Oren's arm— his eyes widen to take up half his face, seemingly, and he looks back and forth between Oren, and Iona, then back at Oren, back at Iona. It's like the Old Spice commercial, except the scenery doesn't change and Iona still remains Iona with a crystal arm, no matter how many times Gus double-takes.

So. He gapes, and so do the others, who realize very quickly that the youngest Aubert kid's found two bodyguards (???) who are clearly beyond their scope of...everything, as of the moment. They curse under their breath, glare daggers at the three of them, before retreating quickly into the shadows to formulate a game plan and whisper among themselves about what the hell that was, and how they can find something like that. Eventually.

That leaves Gus, still rattled and slack-jawed.

(And Claude, rolling his eyes and putting his gun away on the rooftop of a building near them, ignoring the thin line of sweat that's gathered on his brow.) ]

...Okay?

[ This is all he manages to say, wow. ]

[Man, Iona was getting all riled up and ready for a beat down too...!! In fact, she looks disappointed that they're all retreating, but realizes it's for the best. She sighs and drops the bullet onto the ground before turning to Gus.

Oren's silently letting him go and stepping aside so Iona can jog towards them.]

Gus! You still with me? Ah... Oh yeah... [She concentrates, by closing her eyes, casting a new layer of glamor around her right arm.]

Well! Look on the bright side! Our date hasn't been a complete disaster!

[ALWAYS LOOK ON THE BRIGHT SIDE OF LIFE. Oren rolls his eyes and proceeds to dust off some dirt off of Iona's shoulder.]

Anyways. Date's over, or you wanna talk still?

[ Okay, he still needs a second. Like, 30 more seconds. He's on his feet but he may as well still be flying, with how little he feels the ground beneath them: he blinks once, twice, and they're cartoon blinks. Someone could be holding giant sound effect signs behind his head and it'd be completely in place for his expression. ]

Uh.

[ Come on, technical genius, pull it together. ]

Your arm. Hand. [ Sentences!! Sentences. ] ...You're not hurt.

[ That's a half-question and a half-statement, a combination of "are you ok wow" and "that was insane, wow". ]

[She laughs a little, shaking her head.]

Nope. Not hurt at all. But that doesn't matter.

[Oren closes his eyes, a gesture of disapproval on his part, but remains silent; he'll have to remind her that she doesn't have to act reckless for the sake of other people (yeah, yeah, when HE does it it's fine...)

Iona gently ruffles Gus's hair with that specific hand.]

You're not hurt. No bruises and scratches on your arms this time, right?

[ He doesn't flinch when she touches him, but he does deflate, with a long sigh that rattles his diaphragm and hunches his shoulders forward.

At least he has a name to attribute to the irregularities in Iona's behavior. She's not exactly normal, he knew that all along, but it's one thing to have a hunch and another to know it without a shadow of a doubt. ]

...I'm used to scratches and bruises, not cute girls taking bullets for me.

[ And he has an issue with that, he takes issue with the fact that she did, so, without his usual humor: ]

Don't do that. Okay?

H-Hey, no need to be so serious! I mean, I probably won't do that again because what are the chances to begin with, right?

[Don't do that?? While she know what those words mean, she doesn't understand it. If Iona Oakes has the capability to protect, she'll throw herself into the role of protector with gusto (because she wasn't able to do it before; she was useless, helpless, and...)

Oren leans down to pat Iona on the head. Mostly to snap her out of her thoughts and to get the attention of both of them.]

Ah... Yeah. We shouldn't be out here in the open any longer, should we? Wanna go back to my place or is there somewhere nearby we can duck into?

Edited 2015-06-12 02:48 (UTC)

[ There are a lot of things he can say in response to her assertion, but he doesn't articulate any of them, if only because it's not wise to mix her up in things that have nothing to do with her. His lips knit, along with his brows, but when he springs back, it's with a smile.

(Another thing he has in common with his half-brother: the art of the smile.) ]

Your place is probably the safest. We'll cut through a few nice places on the way there, so it won't be a total waste of a day.

[Before Iona can answer, Oren speaks up placidly.]

Is there anyone else who would care to join us? Or will it just be us three?

[~~coughhiolderbrothercough~~ Iona looks at Oren in confusion as she stands up, pulling Gus with her.]

[ ??? What is Oren smoking, is Gus's facial reaction. ]

Huh? Who else are you even going to invi—

[ —Wait. Wait a damn second. ]

[ Haha yeah psyche it's the party pooper.

He steps out from the nearest corner, in his customary prim three-piece suit, his expression a mild mixture of exasperation and detachment. ]

Auguste.

...Miss Iona, Oren.

[ Gus looking confused count: rising. Claude, on his end, looks composed enough. ]

I trust you've all been better, so I won't ask. Shall we go, then?

... Ah. Ahhhhhh. [Iona throws up her arms in an exasperated fashion. Well, that confirms that!!]

Alright. Talk later, back to the Grind first. I feel like we're gonna take a while to sort things out, so Oren, tea for everyone and sandwiches if there's enough supplies.

[Oren bows his head in compliance and is first to walk ahead to make sure the paths aren't filled with goons before allowing Gus to lead the way.

What a tangle they've gotten themselves into indeed.]

Mι∂ηιgнт ιη Ƥαяιѕ

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

1/2

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

1/2

no subject

no subject