rogueinladysclothing | [Duplicity] IC Inbox

Shouldn't take long.

[She drops two pins, one in the Up with an ETA of ten minutes, one in the Down with an ETA of thirty. Both are outside bars, neither are anything special.]

You choose.

[The one in the Up lends itself to an easier time of getting to work after, so Amelia gathers all her things and finishes making ready to go.]

The Up. I'll be there in no more than ten minutes.

[And so she is. A messenger bag slung over a shoulder. Jeans, a linen shirt, and her bodice, boots, and knives on. At least she's consistent in how she dresses no matter the weather.]

Rosita, at least, is similar in this regard too; the Up is easier and safer for her to get to, and she has her own shift later so she has a pack with her uniform tucked in it on her back where she's waiting outside the building, absolutely no intention to go inside. She dresses a bit lighter in the summer but still in practical, fitted pants, a tanktop and mostly unbuttoned overshirt, fingerless gloves and her hair pulled through the back of a military style cap, her utility knife worn openly on one hip and boots.

She pushes off the lean of her shoulder when she spots Amelia, unfolding her arms to show her hands empty when she moves to meet her. She doesn't smile.

"You remember me?" she asks, nodding down the street so they can walk and talk, but waiting for her to agree to it before really moving. "And what you insisted on telling me last time we talked?"

This is truly going to place Amelia had no way of anticipating. Their last meeting went well, but given Rosita's reaction to her offer, she didn't expect the woman to take her up on it.

"I do." She gestures for the other woman to lead as they walk, falling into step beside her with a reasonable distance between them. "What is it you need?"

And indeed: "I don't need anything," she answers, but she doesn't like to play coy with things that matter at the best of times. They've barely made it ten steps before she goes on, voice even and sober.

"If Chris is one of your people, Carver is one of mine. I heard some shit went down at realignment, and that's one thing, but what was that shit on the finder?"

Edited 2023-07-25 17:20 (UTC)

Fuck. This could be bad. Amelia frowns, but doesn't look away. She can meet this woman's eyes as she speaks the truth.

"I tried apologizing shortly after Realignment, but he didn't want to hear it. I hadn't intended to reach out to him again when he made it clear he wasn't going to hear me about it again, but the finder came for blood and I was tired of it. I didn't expect him to answer at all, let alone start me down a path of answers that I lack context to fully understand."

Her lips press into a thin line. "There's something more to how he responded to me, to what I did and said. I don't know it, and I won't be asking him again." If he offers it in answer to other questions, so be it. She understands she can't push on him without breaking what fragile peace there is between them.

But now she has to know. "Did something happen as a result of the conversation? If so, I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to cause any trouble or harm." She just also happens to be the Queen of Bad Timing and Decisions.

"Yeah, there is something more, because people are more than just a bad moment," she answers, not kindly. Amelia does her the respect of looking at her as she speaks. Rosita's dark eyes bore back steady and hard, pulled away only to keep watch around them or to navigate something in front of them as they move.

"I'm not going to answer that," she says bluntly, and it's not just how protective she is over Carver specifically, over her people in general. "Do you understand that you may never get to understand? That if he or anyone who knows anything about him answers you, it's his choice at this point? Not yours. And if you try to force the issue anyway - you may not have had much of a choice in that room, but now you do. And you'd be choosing to keep playing around in damage you don't know the first thing about. And that?"

She doesn't stop their momentum, but they're at a corner, waiting on traffic so she takes the opportunity to face her fully: "That's not something that can happen."

She's calm under Rosita's anger, not shrinking away or backing down. This is more the reaction she expects when someone's upset with her, and it's easier for her to take than what Carver threw at her in the wake of Realignment. It's clear where the other woman is at, what her thoughts are, and what she sees Amelia's failings as. Not for the first time, she's glad someone in this dreamsforsaken city agrees with her that she's fucking things up.

"I won't press him or anyone else about it," she answers, calm under the hard gaze thrown at her. "I don't like not understanding, but as you said, I can't change that if he doesn't choose to give me more context. That's for me to bear alone."

As for the rest, the corner of her lips tug briefly into a smile. "I want to keep the peace more than anything else. My attempts were for myself until now, but keeping everyone from each other's throats is more important. Carver and I work together, and we both need it to remain neutral ground. That's more important than sating my own curiosity."

It won't be easy at times, but she's good at avoiding people when necessary. If that's how it has to be from now forward, she'll make it happen.

There's something about the smile that burrows under Rosita's skin like a splinter, that touches a part of her that shed all the social niceties and contracts that cities like this rely on to function a long time ago, a part of her she's comfortable wearing on her shoulders like armor when she needs to these days. It tells the side of her that speaks no language and recognizes no authority beyond what literally can or cannot be done that she is being mocked, to do something to prove she's not the kind of easy fucking target to be ignored.

That's not how this city works. A lot of the people around her are lucky that's not how this city works, and Rosita herself is lucky that she's not so far gone she can't recognize that.

"In our own world, one or the other of us would have just killed you by now," she answers, not a threat necessarily - she's not even saying they could, in a world like this one where people have magic and abilities that simply don't exist on the Earth they both come from - but an unflinching, unarguable fact. Hurt someone like Amelia hurt Carver, and it's payback in kind if she didn't finish the job in the first place. Simple, straightforward, cause and effect. "Here, he has to figure out how to keep being civil, keep talking to and working with you no matter what he'd rather do, no matter what it costs."

She says civil like it's profane, lip lifting.

"I like you, Amelia. But that won't change anything if I see or hear you pressing him about it again just because you can and he's there. He owes something to Grayson, but I don't." This, too, is not a threat. It's a line in the sand, an expectation she wants to be crystal clear on so everyone involved can move forward without crossing it.

It's a fact that Amelia understands very well; it would have gone the same were they in her city. There's no anger or upset from the rogue as she meets Rosita's animosity with an even expression, head tilted ever so slightly to one side. It's curious that her word isn't being taken for what it is, but she supposes that can't be helped. After all, what have her actions done but show she's not good at keeping to herself when she should? It's a fair thing to ask, given the mess Amelia knows she makes with every breath she exhales into this city.

"Then you won't see or hear of it, because it won't come to pass. I've given my word, and I intend to keep it. I don't know how to prove this to you or make you believe it if you've decided I need to be watched closely." She holds her ground as the crowd around them starts to move to cross the street. One way or another, she's fairly certain the conversation won't last long enough for it to matter if they're walking or standing still.

"You don't owe me anything, either. You'll do what you need to in order to protect yours, the same as I will when the time comes. And that's all this is, isn't it? A courtesy of telling me who belongs to you so I leave them be? If so, then message received. Carver won't be bothered again." Until the city forces them into another corner together, though she'll do what she can to avoid it for everyone's sake.

Her shoulders rise slightly in a shrug, her palms turned upward in front of her to show she's not hiding anything. "Have I missed anything?"

Amelia, Rosita recognizes, comes from a place where giving one's word actually still means something; where swearing some kind of oath means something, where there are clear sides and lines that cannot be crossed without consequence. If ever Rosita herself believed in that, though, the time is gone: promises need to be proven over time. The best Rosita can do is this conversation, where if she had reason to think Amelia would outright ignore her or otherwise cross her, there'd be no warning at all. She'd just handle it.

So she listens, and she studies the other woman, considering: is there anything further? She wants to argue that Carver doesn't belong to her, especially with the connotations here in the city, but if she does that then she'll have to admit to something in its place and she's not interested in that.

Is there anything further? Just the matter of reparations. The foot traffic starts moving, and most of the other people who had gathered to cross have gone on, the next group hasn't yet accumulated. Into this lull, Rosita - already squared up from their conversation so far - gives no warning and no explanation, but punches as hard as she can with a solid, swift right cross for wherever it will land on Amelia's face.

There is and will be no follow up. This isn't a fight, or not from where Rosita is standing. It's fair and square.

There's no getting out of the way of the hit when it comes. Not that she would have tried unless this was a real fight or a spar. Rosita's been calm but tense throughout their entire conversation. Carver is one of hers in a way the rogue understands in ways the defy words and explanation, and she came here to make that - and her displeasure about the entire conversation she saw on the finder - known.

It hurts, but Amelia's had far worse. People twice her size have tried to break her in half, for example. A punch across the face hurts, and will leave a bruise for a few days, but makeup can cover the later and the soreness will pass. What doesn't pass is the few gathering bystanders who gasp and start to shout about what's just happened. Dominants fighting in the streets? Striking one another without provocation? Someone call the SIN guards to break it up!

Calmly, Amelia raises a hand and pushes it down slowly through the air. She looks to those around them who are gawking and smiles warmly. Her voice is calm but authoritative when she speaks, as someone used to getting exactly as she wants always sounds in escalating situations. "An aired grievance, and the last one we'll exchange. Be on your way."

Most of the crowd drops it immediately, and the few who don't leave right away head off once they're stared down for long enough. When the last have retreated, Amelia rubs at her jaw then smirks at the other woman.

"A clean hit." One that sends a clear message and doesn't require a response. "Anything else to add before we go our separate ways?"

It's not that Rosita isn't aware of the attention from the people around her; she is. Her fingers stay closed in loose fists at her side, ready to deal with anyone who might think about stepping in the middle of this, but her attention stays on Amelia. She is, for all her anger and all her buried hurt, calm and steady where she is, and she lets the other woman handle it without so much as a glance or a word for anyone else.

She waits. And when she sees the smirk, she knows that her hunch was right - and, for the first time since realignment, she thinks there may even be a way out of this for everyone. Just maybe.

That's for later though. There's still the matter of the promise, the line Rosita drew in the sand and each of them staying on their side of it. Given that, though, Rosita, anyway, is prepared to move forward.

"No," she answers. And, "We're square," she summarizes, earnest. She'd like to do more, but that's for back home; for here, she can make it be enough to let go of her desire to make someone else hurt as much as someone she loves did, and start over.

It's as simple as that in Amelia's world. Words and blows have been exchanged between leaders. There's no need for anything to escalate further unless more actions are taken on either side. For now, there can be peace. This can also be the end of it entirely, if that's what Rosita wants. Amelia won't be bothered either way.

"All is settled," she agrees, nodding. She holds Rosita's eyes a moment longer, then begins to withdraw, turning back the way they came. "You know how to find me should that change, as I do you." She smirks ever so slightly as she gives the other woman once last look, then turns away.

"We'll see each other again sometime," she calls back over her shoulder. "I hope for us both it's under better circumstances."

And with that, the rogue disappears into the crowd to be on her own way and to leave Rosita to hers.

[Duplicity] IC Inbox

no subject

no subject

~~~> Spam ]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject