redshiftlogs | open | the more you see the more you know

Entry tags:

open | the more you see the more you know

Who: Angel + closed starters
What: A catch-all
When: mumbles incoherently gesturng at calender
Where: a place

[ Closed starters in the comments, if you'd like open prompts for Angel to tag, there are these here on the event. ]

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Jacob wonders. Mysterious is certainly what the Assassins are meant to be, to outsiders anyway. Working in the shadows to serve blah blah blah. But he certainly doesn't feel mysterious. Maybe Connor is able to pull that off better, but the Fryes certainly never succeeded in cutting themselves off from the world they were meant to be serving, from being apart from society in any way.

Maybe in the time Angel is from, it's different. Maybe they have become dark and mysterious again. Or maybe this guy just likes to seem that way. Who knows? But if Angel likes him, and trusts him, then he's probably alright.

And maybe he can tell them more about these Vault treasures left over from long ago. Could they be Artefacts? He's not really sure. Angel hasn't actually really said much about them to him, just gushed about the treasure hunters.

"There's no harm in meeting him," He says, happily resting his head on Charles' shoulder, now that there's an arm around him. He feels better, more grounded. And not quite so jealous of all the nuzzling going on between the other two. "I think in places like this, as many friends and allies you can gather around you the better. Especially the ones who know how to fight."

"If you trust him, we do."

He's pretty certain that's the case, at least. None of them have any reason to doubt her, not when this is her world. Her people. If she says he's on their side and can be trusted, then that's enough for him.

He's no associate of Jack's. That's something, at least.

"You said he doesn't hate you for what you did. That he was dedicated to stopping Jack. Was he one of the Vault Hunters who..." There's hesitation there for a moment, but she should still know what he's getting at.

Was this man one of the ones who killed her, in her world?

She goes quiet - because it's true, she told them about this. She had forced the words to the front of her mouth the once when she had to. This is what happened, this is how I died, and this is what you have to remember about the lies he will tell.

But it wasn't exactly a topic that came easily. What else was there to say about dying? She didn't really know. She didn't truly know what it meant to her now that she was once again face to face with the truth of it. That she looks at Zer0 and remembers the only time she ever saw him in person was as the light faded so literally out of her body.

The silence where she pauses, suspended between movements and yet finishing neither is probably enough. Then she nods, slowly and just the once. The only answer that needs to be said. "Don't hate him. I didn't give him, or any of them, a choice. I offered them the thing that they wanted. I didn't tell them until they were there and they had to, what they were going to do. They wanted to stop Jack. Stopping Jack sooner rather than later, meant... ending me. I cut out the conversation in the middle."

She hovers. Shying away, she didn't want someone else to be hurt because of what she had done. It had been her choice, and she had used him, that was that. That was the kind of person she had been.

As far as Ratonhnhaké:ton is concerned, the information she withheld from them and the lies she told them, he wouldn't fault her for. She was being controlled by Jack, unable to make her own choices without fear of retribution if it wasn't something he approved of. Never mind what choice the Vault Hunters had. What choice did she have?

He leans in a little, just enough to press his lips ever so gently to the top of her head, one hand moving up to gently stroke her hair.

"I think you have told us enough that we could not hate him," he says as he straightens up a little again, throwing both Charles and Jacob a look above her head.

Jacob knows that while lies aren't pleasant, there is a need for them. He's told plenty over the years, and while none of them were quite in the same league as Angel's, he can understand why she felt she had to do it. Why she believed there were no other options.

He can't help but feel there must have been some other way, even so. Some way to save her, to make it right. She's a kind, sweet and incredible woman. She doesn't deserve death.

"We'll give him a fair chance," he promises, with a grin at her. "See what this assassin of yours is like."

It doesn't get easier, that is the simple truth of the things she doesn't say. She has forced the words up once for each of them. She has told them what they need to protect herself, and it gets no easier to talk about.

So for right now, she takes what she needs but barely deserves, that bit of affection she still feels her chest curl up in fear and longing over as Connor brushing lips on her head. She seeks that comfort, whether it was fair for her to have it or not. Curling her arms around his shoulders. Burying her face against his neck as she steadies herself. Inhaling his scent to comfort herself, before she pulls back.

"...we've all got pasts, Angel."

All of them. They all have blood on their hands, things they regret. They're here now, together, and moving forward. That's the important thing. If she's looking to be judged, this isn't the place and they'll never be the people to do it.

He offers her a gentle, sad sort of smile before settling back a little further.

"When do we meet them?"

"Are we having a dinner party?" Jacob says, amused. "Invite him over, if you like. Although we could all just meet him ourselves, individually. Might be less overwhelming for the poor bastard that way."

He doesn't mind, but it depends on what Angel wants. If she wants to oversee the meeting, if she wants to introduce them all, then why not?

There - distracted momentarily, Angel snorts. "Uhm, maybe not a dinner party. I don't think he even eats? Or at least I've never seen him take his helmet off? Like ever? But he's usually okay enough to just go where I ask if I promise a gun to him for it."

Nothing really like guns to motivate a Vault Hunter.

"Either way, keep your eye out for him when you see him. Tall, helmet. Sword. Talks in poetry."

Hm ...

"I believe I have met him. He seems okay."

Which is as much of a reassurance for both Angel and the other two men. Zer0 was ... a little odd, but friendly enough towards Ratonhnhaké:ton and the strange gooey creature the four of them accidentally released.

He hadn't realised that the man spoke in poetry, however.

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