InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Make tea, not love."

Isadora Raleigh (poison_and_fire) wrote in indarkness_logs,
@ 2010-09-07 20:41:00

Entry tags:

!complete, 2032 09, isadora raleigh, spike spiegel

RP: To Trap the Trappers
Characters: Dora, Spike
Time/Date: After dark, September 7
Location: down by the south shore, two miles from the hotel
Warnings/Rating: devious plotting
Summary: Dora makes arrangements
Status: Complete

Isadora was patient, but she also wasn't one to waste a potential opportunity. It was completely possible that nothing would come of it, that they wouldn't be able to develop a plan -- with or without considering people's magics -- but wasting the opportunity wasn't worth considering.

Perhaps they could observe down by the shore. Perhaps they could hear every word ... but perhaps not.

Earlier that day, she and Iridia had taken a stroll along the second floor hallway. Under the pretense of scratching, Iridia had kicked the note Isadora had dropped beneath Spike's door, and they'd moved on along the hall.

The note was simple, giving him directions and an approximate time of a meeting place. If he showed up, he showed up. If he didn't, well ... then he didn't, and she and Iridia enjoyed a quiet evening listening to the waves in the darkness. She hoped he'd figure out how long of a walk it was, and leave early enough ... if he was coming at all.

Drawing the shawl closer around her shoulders, Isadora stood by the shoreline, listening to the waves as she gazed across the water. Iridia was listening for footsteps, though she was a bit herself as well.

Truthfully, she had no idea where to start, but ... perhaps discussing what they knew as facts would be a place to start. They could assess their resources and perceived willingness of people to participate, and go from there. If necessary, she had nothing against the two of them doing something alone together ... whatever they could manage to pull off.

Surely, there was something to be done, one way or the other.

(Post a new comment)

lunkhead
2010-09-08 11:48 am UTC (link)

Spike still wasn't quite certain what to think of recent events. He was, of course, frustrated that the Heads had found a way to drug him - if that was how they'd forced sleep - and steal his weaponry; but he was also curious who might be sent home (and why).

Once again, he'd come close to figuring out the way they thought - to figuring out what sort of twisted moral code they operated under - only to have those ideas dashed by an unexpected change of pace. Almost like a puzzle, a game intentionally played with the captives' minds... The novelty of the puzzle, however, had long since been abolished, taken away when the Reavers attacked. Now, Spike was just growing ever more agitated with the confusing antics and blatant displays of a god complex.

The note had arrived at some point while Spike was asleep, so he initially regarded it with a touch of suspicion. Very few good things happened when he was asleep, it seemed. However, he recognized the handwriting as Dora's after a quick glance - before even reading it. It wasn't often he saw hand-written notes around this place. Everything was spoken or typed.

Even if he had plans, Spike would have canceled them in favor of meeting Dora. She was an ally, perhaps even a friend, and a damn good informant; whatever she needed was important... perhaps even beneficial. He had, after all, asked her to tell him if she found a way to the Heads. Part of him hoped that was the meaning of the rendezvous. Another part of him suspected that it involved the trap they'd discussed at some earlier point. A week had passed, if he wasn't mistaken; but sometimes it was difficult to gauge time. Everything was hectic, the moon was a lie, and there was no true relevance to darkness versus light. Well, not yet. Maybe if more man-eating creatures were released...

Spike left his room when there was what he considered to be ample time to reach the destination, but he still arrived a few minutes late. The leisurely pace at which he walked was responsible - if only partly - for his tardiness. The other part... Well, maybe he wasn't the best at guessing walking distances based on vague points of reference. (Aside from the week of hell - the week in which the Reavers appeared - he hadn't ventured much farther than the hotel and the gas station before.)

When he reached the shore, Spike stopped within comfortable distance of Dora and Iridia. Even after dark, it was easy to recognize a woman with an 'overgrown cat' as a constant companion... exceptional visual prowess notwithstanding. He glanced at them for a short moment just to be certain then turned his gaze toward the waves.

With his less-than-proper posture and hands in his pockets, it was likely easy to infer that he'd just been wandering around without intentions to meet someone; but such was far from a deliberate attempt at stealth. Although he did wonder whether there would be surveillance beyond the usual boundaries, it wasn't reason enough to make him purposefully alter his demeanor. If anything, it was a sign that he trusted Dora enough not to be on-edge around her. Not that he had access to any weapons, should opposite circumstances arise...

"I didn't think you were the 'romantic night by the shore' type," he teased. His gaze trailed back to her as his lips curled into a smirk, likely making it obvious that he didn't really think the purpose of the meeting was anywhere near romance or enjoying the view.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

poison_and_fire
2010-09-08 02:39 pm UTC (link)

"Shows what you know, then," she replied before she turned her head to regard him, a slight smile curving her own lips. "But if I'd been going for romance, I would have brought candles."

She rested a hand lightly on Iridia's head before she made a slight 'have a seat' gesture. She wasn't sure how long they'd be here, nor what they might cover, and she wasn't inclined to stand the entire time. She smoothed the skirt of her dress beneath her as she eased to settle down on the dry dirt near the shoreline.

The conditions were far from ideal, but it wasn't as though they could have this discussion inside, now could they? Out here though ... it was possible they wouldn't be listening.

It was just as possible that they would be, though. She thought it was a relatively calculated risk though -- there didn't seem to be any places to plant cameras or recorders, but they'd proven more than once they were sneaky bastards.

"I just thought we might take this opportunity to ... talk, in a place where there was possibly a lower risk of being overheard," she admitted as she arranged her heavy skirt over her lap, resting her hands on her thighs.

Iridia dropped down behind Isadora, curling his body around hers, resting his head on his paws in such a way that he could keep an eye on Spike. The tip of his tail twitched lazily as he half-closed his eyes and let his ears go into a more relaxed position.