2010-06-25: An Eternal Curse



Date: June 25, 2010


Tori's penchant for getting into getting into mischief, or, in her words, being a "bloody cow," is an eternal curse that Devon is willing to put up with — and aid and abet.

"An Eternal Curse"

Tori's Apartment, Morningside Heights

The coffee table is a motley mix of Victorian novels, a map of New York, and tools of the trade — the thief trade, that is. Metal cutters, a lockpick set, and a couple of balaclavas amongst the books and notes for her graduate degree make for a strange juxtaposition of livelihoods. Tori herself has her hands wrapped around a cup of coffee as she perches on the edge of the sofa seat, pointing to a street near Brooklyn.

"The warehouse is here. In should be easy enough, but there will probably be some of Natsumi's people that we might have to take care of, if we're going to get the crates into the van," Tori murmurs, taking a sip of the coffee and frowning a little. She agreed to help "Brayden" but this seems a bit more dangerous than she'd like — she had intended to leave behind the "dangerous" stuff back in Europe, after all. Taking some cash from lockers at an expensive health center is one thing, but stealing semi-automatic weapons? She glances at Devon, chewing her lower lip, to see if he's in agreement for the job.

"Word on the street says not to mess with Natsumi's people," Devon comments wistfully, as he lowers a cigarette down from his lips and taps the ash away into an ashtray on the side table nearby. The smoke still hangs around him, forming fine lines and collecting into a picture, a design of a couple people with swords and guns, because that's another thing the word on the street likely mentions. "But if you're gonna do this, you're not doing it without me. I can carry weapons in smoke form, and if you get into trouble I can get the drop on them."

And it's one thing he can always offer. She can get the doors unlocked, and find any combinations, and he can hang unseen and watch the area. "This guy must be important to you if you're risking so much to help him. I don't have to be jealous, do I?"

"You could probably do it without me, but where's the fun in that?" Tori teases. After all, if he can carry the guns in smoke form, he doesn't need her to get them inside the warehouse, right? He can just smoke himself in through the air vent or under the door. Luckily no one's thought to hide things in air-tight rooms yet.

At the mention of jealousy, she stretches to set down her coffee on the table, then curls a hand around his arm. "No reason to be jealous. They're friends from back in Ireland, and something's … something's going on with Brayden. I guess I agreed so I can sort of keep an eye on him and make sure he's okay," she says quietly, resting her chin on his shoulder. "Besides, I can look at it as a good deed, right? Getting guns away from Natsumi can't be all that bad a goal."

"I can't carry too much, but I can carry enough to shoot someone from behind if you get in trouble," Devon says, more than willing to admit his faults— and if they're locked up, he'd still need her. "Thieving is more your thing than mine, but I know how to take care of myself and those I care about." Most the time, at least. He'd not been able to protect his brother, but he made sure he got a form of revenge.

Leaning against her head on his shoulder, his eyes close and the smoke-signals disperse, hazing into the air as the ventiliation system carries them off toward the ceiling. "It's a good deed, definitely. Those are people we don't want to have more guns." And it may be good for Brayden he doesn't need to be jealous, or the man might need smoke detectors…

"How'd you get involved with the Irish back in the day?"

Her eyes drop and she pulls her feet up onto the couch, leaning against him as she considers what to tell him and what to leave out. "I landed in their pub in Cork when I left England and was travelling around. They were the first people who made me feel welcome enough to not leave town after three days, you know? I didn't mean to get into thieving again — I actually had meant to leave it behind, but… I don't know. They felt like family, and I guess I needed that, just then."

She shifts so that she can look up at him, head now resting on the arm rest at his side. "He's also the first person I knew who was like … me. I didn't know about other people's powers. So he was the first person I told about my power. I guess I just trust him based on that… and… well, if you meet him, you'll probably understand." If he meets him and can tell he's Nathan Petrelli, he'll know why she wants to make sure he's okay, that is.

"I never really stopped long enough to get to know anyone with an ability, until now at least," Devon admits, perhaps understanding the desire to belong somewhere because of the fact he didn't belong anywhere himself for such a long time. "Wasn't until 'Medusa' that I felt comfortable showing anyone what I could do, and even then I was taking a leap of faith, cause she had information about what happened to my brother, and what he was trying to do that got him killed."

Leaning his head back against the cushions behind him, he lifts his cigarette again to take a long drag off of it, before blowing it out and lowering it away. "And cause of her, I met you. I'll help you with your 'family'. Since you sort of helped me with mine." Helped enough, in his book, at least.

Tori's brows quirk in that look girls get when someone does something sweet, and she lifts her head up while her fingers at his neck pull him down for a kiss. "I'm glad 'Medusa' brought us together… even if I could still kill the woman for lying to me and making me deal with dead bodies in a beer cooler," she says with a smirk as she pulls back, then tilts her head again to offer another kiss, this time to his forehead.

"Thanks… I'm … well, if you don't want to do it, because it's dangerous and illegal and all, you know I'll understand. I wouldn't ask anyone to do anything like that for me just because they …" she stops and starts, rerouting her verbal path, "just because they care for me. I'd be with you even if you said no, you know." She's been in that position — done something because she thought she had to, because it would prove her love. It almost got her killed.

The kisses make him smile just a bit, lips curving and the cigarette held away between his fingers. The ash on the tip burns down a bit, so much he taps it off again before Devon responds. "You'd be surprised what I'm willing to do. Besides, I don't want crazy Japanese lady to have more guns than she needs, not after some of the words on the street." It might be part to prove a point, but at the same time…

"This isn't more illegal than disposing of the body of a federal employee, even if they were operating outside the constitution at the time."

Still employeed by the country, in a way. Even if they know they were mercenaries more than real soldiers. "And if I wanted to say no, I'd say no."

Tori's fingers curl around from his neck to his face, thumb stroking his jawline and fingers lightly tracing his brow and temple. "Good. I don't want you to do anything that you didn't believe in, just because I'm an bloody cow who gets myself in all sorts of mischief, Devon," she says, dark eyes staring into his paler gaze as she smiles up at him.

"Sooo," she says, shifting gears, back to business, "I'll let them know that we can do it. Can you think of anything we need besides the usual?" Van, weapons, masks, tools — the things on the coffee table, minus, perhaps, Vanity Fair and Jude the Obscure.

"That's your curse. Eternal bloody cow," Devon responds with a laugh, leaning closer to press his lips against her own this time. It's worded as a joke, the words rolling off his tongue, before he looks toward the table, with all the supplies. What else could they use? "I might see if I can get a hold of a gas grenade, in case of emergency, since I can control the gas, or at least control where it goes. Could be handy if we need to escape. I doubt I can find you a gas mask this quick, though, so I'll just have to be careful when we use it."

And then he stands, pushing his cigarette out onto the ashtray. "We can always save that for next time, though. This'll probably carry us on this one." Already assuming there will be a next time, is he? Well that's why her curse is an eternal one.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License