[ Active / Open ] How long can I neglect me for

[knightscode]

The month has become a little rough for Lancelot. First there was his suspicions regarding Jean-Claude, then Raymond's declaration, then... then everything got a little worse. It was only a weekend hes spent in the basement with Raymond's lackeys, but he's still recovering from the blood loss -- and it's shaken him more than he'd care to admit.

i) Semi-Open: At Home, Richmond.

For a few days after, Lancelot simply shuts himself in and tries to recharge. He's sore, covered in vampire bites and bruises and a little uneasy still. Lancelot may not have been taken directly from his home, but he wasn't far from it. He still can't be sure if they were watching his house, how long for if they were. If it was chance or luck, if it was planned.

He won't refuse visitors, but in truth Lancelot is rather content with just Lily for company at the moment. His mind is busy, and having lost a fair amount of blood he's also tired.

An awkward amount of time has been spent inventing a passable reason he's in such a state for people he simply can't tell 'oh it was vampires', and that's... difficult. He hates lying. Yet all the same he's managed it, somehow, had to halfway makeup that he's already done something about charging those responsible and he doesn't want to talk about it.

Which just leaves Lancelot standing in his kitchen staring absently at the coffee he's just made, wondering if he can get away with putting some alcohol in it this early in the day. Lily stays pressed to his side like a peculiarly white and fluffy shadow of concern, perhaps wondering what she might be able to do to help.


ii) Open: Night Council territory & various others.

He knows he can't stay at home forever, though. Eventually Lancelot has to go back to work, and he knows the longer he leaves it the harder it will be. So a few days after it Lancelot heads back in, wearing a little more clothing than strictly sensible on a hot day to try and cover up some of the bites and bruises he's sporting. He checks in with all his cases and paperwork in Westminster, picks up a few things and heads out onto the street.

Lily tags along with him for support, so he tries to walk in the shade when he can -- her thick white fur making her suffer a little in the summer. He's pausing by a shop at one point to pour out a little water for her when she nearly trips someone up moving, and Lancelot makes a little ah sound and bodily pulls her closer.

"Forgive me," he says softly, shuffling the bowl so she can lap some of the water up. "She's a little restless in the heat."

Samoyeds are built for Siberia, after all, not for 30°C. The dog fusses to get at the water, leash looping around her a little even as Lancelot looks up to offer an apology smile.

Comments

[knightscode]

Lancelot shrugs fractionally, clearly not entirely comfortable.

"I'm head of the Guardian division. I taste a little like fae-lite. I took Islington territory then defended it when they tried to take it back. I can think of a few reasons. They didn't really... enlarge on it themselves, though."

Mostly just repeatedly used him as a snack. He darts his eyes between her and the drink, fidgets awkwardly before taking a sip. It means he doesn't have to say anything.

[falsify]

"Bloody animals," it's practically hissed under her breath, and she shakes her head-- Obviously appalled at it. To be fair, that really is a shopping list of reasons to hate someone, and whilst some people might not have any real moral issue with it... Fucking Harris.

"They're out of control," she says softly down at her own drink and then glances up at Lancelot, brow wrinkled with concern. "I'm sorry, we don't have to talk about this..."

There's probably no more useful information to be had out of it anyway.

[knightscode]

"No, no it's fine -- and you're right. They are. Millicent was bad enough, Raymond is worse."

He heaves a sigh and stares down at his coffee a moment before lifting his eyes to Kathryn, studying her.

"Sylvia won't stand for it. She'll make a move. But I don't know... if that will make anything better or not. I'm sure when Millicent was assassinated the person who got rid of her thought they would be making the world better."

Yet look what that has done. It's all so much worse.

[falsify]

"Surely it can't make things worse?"

She's watching Lancelot's hands, a soft frown on her face. The idea that there's some bigger psycho waiting to take the reins is... Well, it's worrying. Of course there are wheels in motion, but success isn't exactly guaranteed.

Kathryn fiddles a little with her cup, voice soft. "After what they did to you... What they're doing? Something has to change."

[knightscode]

Something has to change. He nods fractionally, reaches out a hand toward her. His wrists are bruised, but he's not really thinking about that -- just wanting to hold her hand a moment for reassurance. In both directions. Something does have to change, whatever peace they thought they might have is clearly not holding at the moment.

"Something will. It has to. Hopefully for the better this time."

He takes another deep breath, turning to offer her a small smile. She's still his guest right now, after all, he can't be too down the entire time or he will be a chore to be around.

"Thank you for coming," he says finally, and gestures with the drink fractionally. "And for this. You didn't have to."

[falsify]

Hm.

She takes his hand, thumb brushing back and forth over a bruise on his wrist. As much as Eames doesn't care a whole lot about Lancelot on any personal level, he's not without sympathy for what he's been through. And Kathryn evidently feels awful about it, tilting her head up to return the smile with a small one of her own.

"Guests should always bring a gift, right?" It's a joke, and there's a bit of that usual playfulness glinting in her eyes. It's an astoundingly tiny gesture, after all.

[knightscode]

"They should, and you brought food and drink both. You are a model guest."

He takes another sip of the drink, smile flicking up equally playful.

"An especially kind one and beautiful one."

At least, to Lancelot she is. She's never been anything other than kind, even in her rejection of him.

[falsify]

"Oh--" she laughs, ducking her head away from his gaze. He's so earnest, it's a little confusing to deal with sometimes. Kathryn doesn't entirely know how to respond to him without getting his hopes up.

Though one suspects it's kind of impossible.

A little coquettish when she looks up through her hair at him, "you're pretty kind and beautiful yourself."

[knightscode]

Lancelot huffs at that, releases her hand and shakes his head.

"Now I know that's empty flattery. We both know I look terrible."

Bruises and bites and shadows under his eyes, he can hardly be termed beautiful unless you're thinking beautiful disaster or something similar. Or unless you are particularly fond of men who look roughed up.

Nobody's judging, Kathryn.

[falsify]

"Beautiful usually?" She offers with a squint and a mildly thoughtful expression, "beautiful inside?"

It's taking an obvious amount of effort for Kathryn not to laugh, and it shows on her face. It's just very important that Lancelot understands he's beautiful on the inside. Like an ugly duck baby.

[knightscode]

"I'll take it," he says, because beautiful inside is pretty good if you ask him. Besides, ducklings are cute to him -- even the ugly ones.

"You don't have to stay," he adds more softly, "normally I'd offer to cook but..." but, well. He gestures slightly with their linked heads, half-indicating the bruises. "But I could order us something in? We could watch a film if you like."

Netflix and chill. Only since it's Lancelot he didn't really intend it as anything other than innocent. Not that he'd say no to some comfort, but he'd be just as content with a cuddle -- he's that kind of person.

[falsify]

"You know, I could really go for a curry right now," Kathryn smukes up at him and shakes her hair out of her face. "Maybe a korma, a couple of beers... You look like you need a quiet night in."

For a relative degree of quiet, anyway. Lancelot may be entirely genuine, but Kathryn has some ideas about what to do tonight that she'd quite like to capitalise on.

In the meantime though, food sounds pretty good.

[knightscode]

"Curry it is," he accepts, and leans to press a quick kiss to her cheek before releasing her hand so he can rummage for his phone. He flicks through a few choices, wrinkling his nose slightly as he tries to decide which place will be best before slinking down a little and holding his phone toward her so she can agree. "On me," he adds before she thinks of trying to say otherwise. "Since you bought me the drink and biscuits."

She'll get to pick the film too. Probably to share the biscuits if she wants one. Let's be real, he's a push over, she can have anything she wants.

[falsify]

While Lancelot handles all that, Kathryn slips off the couch to go toward the kitchen.

"Speaking of the drink--" She says, pausing in front of him first, "do you want me to get rid of yours? It's not good."

Hers tastes awful at any rate, and she raises her eyebrows as if daring Lancelot to tell her any different.

[knightscode]

Get rid of --

His eyes widen a little and then he hesitates, torn between politeness and not wanting to disagree.

"I didn't think it was so bad," he hedges, then, "but if you'd like something else...?"

Since obviously she does, and he wont stop her from having whatever she wants.

[falsify]

Kathryn smiles, amused, and raises an eyebrow at Lancelot. She's getting something else to drink regardless, even if it's just a glass of water, he can suffer through the hot chocolate if he wants.

"Suit yourself," she says, turning to go into the kitchen, "don't complain to me when your mouth tastes bitter and dusty."