gillian. (chiburui) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-08-30 09:10:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !complete, !log, gillian goodwin, rivalen beau |
Who: Gillian Goodwin & Rivalen Beau
What: An agreement.
Where: Gillian's house in the commoners district
When: Recently, somewhere hereabouts
Rating: PG
Status: Complete
Preparations for her departure had already been put into place. Perhaps not with as much time and care as she would have normally preferred, the commander of the Black Lions feeling slightly windswept by the decision herself. Even so, there were only the final preparations now, what with Wolfe keeping a watch over her men (theirs again, was it?) and ensuring no troubling vacuum of leadership in her absence. Gillian Goodwin zipped up the last of her luggage and hauled it over one shoulder. The house was quiet as she moved through the hall, the dogs having been sent to the elder Goodwins for care, their usual panting and energetic footfall no longer following at her heels. Everything in her house had been sorted and put into order, and though she was making this departure, she couldn’t find it in herself to regret what would be an extended leave of absence. Territory and all things rightly claimed to her, these had been chosen as second priority--and she hadn’t missed the implications of it, all of them burrowing bothersomely into her hide. Details that would need to be accounted for, sooner or later, as Ofelia Zhou sorted her own affairs, packed her own luggage and waited for her traveling partner to join her. Couldn’t gallivant off in the name of mystery without some protection, or so she had herself made the claim. And so here Gillian was now, leaving by the front door and walking over to where her familiar hovercar waited, the rest of her bags packed already inside. She set the final piece of luggage on the porch, leaning against the support beam and taking stock of the yard, the city, the life she was leaving behind. Reaching in her waistcoat for a cigarette case, she raised an eyebrow and noted the approach of someone familiar. “Timing’s not bad,” she said in an off-handed greeting. “I have impeccable timing.” Rivalen replied, slipping the lighter out of his coat pocket and offering it to his former mentor and current boss. When it came to her affairs he asked little to no questions, only prying when he felt like being playfully(in his opinion) rebuffed and put in his place. However, Gillian’s decision to travel did not sit well with him, a sense of abandonment that was unknown to him — like a nail driven into the palm of his hand. Enough pain to wake him up but not life threatening. “Not sure if you do, bosslady.” The shark grin, he flicked the lighter and watched the flame dance as he extended it in Gillian’s direction. “Can’t change your mind about this, though, can I?” There was some hesitance, testimony of their long relationship that allowed Rivalen to breach some sort of emotion no one else got a glimpse of. “That pirate-eye is not a bad temporary help.” Gillian took the offered flame, lighting the end of her cigarette and giving out a long, thoughtful puff. She crossed her arms and gave Rivalen an assessing but not entirely cold look-over (admittedly, she was glad to see him), understanding herself that they might not meet again for quite some time. Or for however long Ofelia’s personal mission lasted--and neither of the them yet knew. She offered the other samurai a wolfish grin in return. “Consider it his retraining period, a trial by fire.” After a moment, she reached for her bag again, taking slow strides over to the hovercar. “And since you’re wondering,” she continued, “it’s not the sort of trip I can postpone.” What sort of cause would send Gillian away so suddenly, others had only to wonder--but her resolve on the matter, it seemed, was forged in iron. “Going to make mischief while I’m out, are you?” She opened the door to the back seat and looked over it at Rivalen, giving him a critical eye. He turned to his pocket, fished out a fag and slipped it between his lips(he mirrored Gillian’s mannerisms, puffing away with a carelessness that he didn’t quite feel). “I’m taking that as your permission to give him hell while you are away. Make sure he is retrained well, can’t have him letting the bosslady down.” His free hand landed on the door, holding it open. “I don’t actually know what I intend to do yet. Besides giving Wolfe a hard time, I mostly intend to continue as usual.” Rivalen had his own personal mission and issues to sort(mostly with mages, sewer rats that needed to be taken out) and he shrugged, “You’ll be back when you finish. That’s all.” That was a small reassurance for the younger samurai. “So I won’t be saying goodbye.” (Obvious, wasn’t it? But Rivalen felt the need to vocalize each thought that struck him right now, tumbling out as if this really was a permanent departure). His cigarette was burning, untouched between his fingers and ash gathering up. Gillian took another puff of her own before letting the object tumble to the driveway, crunched underneath her boot. She set her luggage in the backseat of the vehicle with the rest, moving objects around until she found what she was searching for--a long leather carrying case, something to store valuables. “When I’m finished,” she agreed, and her tone was that of clear certainty, a leader’s voice of solid reassurance. Gillian handed him the case in a casual manner, as if it was all a usual part of their work, their meetings, as if this was only another typical day. She was keen to shrug aside the sentimentality of it, but there was a clear familiarity in the gesture, as the former-mentor had done this before, once, many years ago. “Take it to the shop for maintenance when you need to,” she said, moving over to the driver’s side of her hovercar with deliberate focus. Gillian’s eyes met Rivalen’s once, briefly, an exchange that did not have need for words. |