Hearts are made to be broken Who: Antonin and Zaviar, appearances by Knight (NPC) Where: Their home When: Evening-ish
It was not like Antonin to not answer his phone when Zaviar called. Or if there was a reason for that then he would always call him back within the hour. Yet today... Antonin had sent a text while he was sleeping to inform him of a possible connection with an arms dealer who happened to be a vampire. Not as good as a were or a witch but Zaviar would settle for this with hardly any protest. If he was given details. Which was rather impossible when his source was not responding to him or anywhere to be found. So Zaviar had looked all of two places. He was not Antonin's keeper. But he did expect for usual behavior to continue, not this abnormality of his most trusted 'friend' vanishing off the face of the earth. If Knight was to be believed - and he had better never give a reason for Zaviar to think him anything less - then the necromancer had not even been home all day. Highly unusual.
The vibrations of a car in the driveway alerted Zaviar to an arrival a mere split second before Knight's ears perked up. Zaviar's familiar had a habit of laying on the rug near his feet like any dog and the were did not mind, just so long as he kept off the couch and never spoke around guests who only knew that Zaviar was a were. 'It's your pet necromancer.' There was a tinge of amusement in the dog's thoughts that Zaviar did not appreciate or acknowledge as he turned a smooth face and still eyes to the door that opened to admit Antonin. Who smelled not only of death but of snake. Lamia. Circe. Oh of course. Why had he not seen the only answer to where Antonin would be now that his precious Circe was in town? "You've been bleeding," Zaviar's tone hinted at what might be annoyance. He sipped from his glass of water and nodded for Antonin to sit down. "You know that when a new deal might be made I like to have the details as soon as possible. Yet you were unreachable and I come home only to wait over an hour." He did not say it but it was obvious that he expected an apology.
Finally falling asleep at Circe's had been wonderful. Even if he'd woken several times feeling as though he had to leave right then or else Gibbon would be home. But no Gibbon, just him and Circe and overall he'd slept pretty good. Until he woke to find that he had several texts from Zaviar and a missed call. How hadn't he woken up to the sound of him calling?!?! There was a special ringer he used and everything. But eventually he'd needed to leave so that Circe could have a deeper sleep and really, he couldn't stay. They couldn't have that gentle, sleepy sort of peace and he had to ignore the part of him that said there was something wrong with that. Didn't matter
He didn't have to read minds to know that he was in some sort of trouble when he got home. It was a unique sort of relationship that he had with Zaviar. With Circe he didn't read her mind because she'd asked him not to and he respected her enough to obey her wish. With Zaviar he kept his thoughts to himself as much as he could because he'd seen what that mind was capable of and did 't want to see much more. The glimpse he caught while Zaviar was speaking made him wince. He hated disappointing him. "Yes and yes. Nikita Vostrikova. Revolutionary Roses, I'd never heard of them before last night. Big on weapons and other illegal dealings. Should things go south the Russian bird will be real useful." He just pretended there hadn't been mention of his blood getting spilled. There really hadn't been that much of it lost.
Nikita Vostrikova. Zaviar filed the name away and hoped that Antonin had possessed the presence of mind to make note of either her headquarters or where she lived just in case it did become obvious that they would need her. Yes he knew that Antonin tended to do a good job but that did not mean he was perfect. The closest thing to perfect that Zaviar had ever known was himself and clearly he had not met this vampire. Yet. Perhaps he should do that and ensure that Antonin had not left a bad taste in her mouth as he tended to do with vampires. Literally if she had taken a snap. Zaviar could not begin to imagine how something that smelled like that could have an appealing taste.
'You don't exactly smell wonderful. Too dry and reptilian for my liking.'
It's a good thing that you're never going to try and eat me then.
'Indeed.'
"Well done," Zaviar granted, "but where have you been all say that kept you from giving me this information earlier in the day when I may have been able to make some use out of it?" No, Zaviar was not going to just let that go. He knew from the smell and taste in the air that Antonin has been with Circe but he was going to make him say it. Zaviar Abdella had never coped well with being classed second and yet it continued to happen to this very day. From the people he thought knew their place even. Oh what was the world coming to?
For a moment Antonin thought that'd be it. A little irritation and nothing more. Then again Zaviar was very nearly impossible to read and in this sort of mood Antonin didn't want to look in his mind. But he'd still clung to his optimism and kept smiling. A smile that wasn't even dented when he realized that Zaviar wasn't done with him just yet. "Oh I told you Circe came to town." Not exactly true. More like Zaviar had come home to a house that reeked of lamia and figured it out himself but it was practically the same thing right? Either way he knew and shouldn't have to ask. I shouldn't have to explain myself either. But he would. The reason was simply because this was Zaviar and one didn't say no to him. If men could be kings by presence and mindset alone then Antonin knew beyond all doubt this would be one of them. As it was he'd follow him to the ends of the universe.
Unless Circe got in the way. And therein lay the problem that just hadn't been voiced. "I was with her. Of course I was with her." A brief surge of recklessness that usually only presented itself around vampires and his cousin. "It'd be like me asking where you vanished to with Madeleine in town. Already know the answer so why ask?" He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth but somehow he just kept grinning. Like it'd been screwed on his face. Probably would be if he was the sort to lose his temper. Circe would've had his head rolling across the ground three seconds ago.
And there is was, the admittance. Unfortunately it was rapidly followed by something that should not have been said. Were Zaviar a normal man then perhaps he would have laughed it off, both of them going after their women the moment they were aware of them. Had he at least possessed the bare minimum of typical emotions then he would have grown angry for having two completely different situations compared. Antonin was a vital part or the whole, someone Zaviar needed to depend on, therefore he had right to know what he was doing. It did not work the other way around. Fortunately for all Zaviar did not get angry, otherwise Antonin would be dead and the house a mess. Angry bittens did have that awful habit of going hybrid when their emotions got the better of them. Which was why Zaviar was so good at keeping his in check. Or so he told himself when in reality the truth of the matter was that his emotions had been stunted in childhood and he was incapable of acting on them like another might. But no one had ever told him that so he just believed that he had superior control, sneering at those who did not. Such as Antonin and his insufferable grin.
"It is not the same." He did become irritated though, much like a snake with someone too near. Only instead of a rattle or a hiss his eyes went oddly blank, his speech more formal if he chose to speak at all. "Must we again through you fawning after her like a lost puppy instead of seeing to your obligations? And you were doing so well since you came here."
Antonin felt his cheeks flush red and he looked down at the ground, smile vanished and replaced with a much less common frown. It was true that he'd been known to forget that he had things to do when Circe was around. He couldn't help himself. But it was also true that he'd come to America because of Zaviar. Circe was right that he'd followed him and left her. He justified it to her and himself by finding a way for her to come too. But deep inside he knew that there was a part of him that'd enjoyed the freedom. The lack of insanity and constant worrying, always torn as to whether he should listen to one or the other. It'd been peaceful to have a respite and just focus on being the best dirty cop he could. But peaceful or not, pleased Zaviar or not, Antonin hadn't been truly happy when he couldn't see her. "I can do my job just fine thanks, and all the little things you find for me. Her being here doesn't mean that I've given up. What's important is the goal, I'm not a bloody idiot who can't remember."
"No," Zaviar agreed, leaning back. "But she gets in the way." That was undeniable. Most of the time Zaviar was certain that he could trust Antonin with anything. But there were little moments when he wondered if that were strictly speaking true. Moments when Circe was involved with the whole thing because Antonin was not trustworthy then. She messed with his head and his emotions and Antonin could not be predicted when she was there. And what if she decided that he should not do something? Would he refuse on the grounds of it got in the way of things with Circe? Who really, Zaviar did not think deserved him. Then again Zaviar was of the belief that no one deserved to have anyone close to him since they were so few and far between. Could they not just go and look for someone else to fulfill their various needs? His were more complicated and his end goal would make the world a better place therefore he was clearly more in need of them. "Remind me, why do you stay with her? Surely there's another woman who could satisfy your stranger urges. If not then you can always pay them." He paused for a moment. "I could get you one as a birthday present." No, women were not accessories, but there was such a thing as a prostitute.
What?? Antonin's mouth dropped open and then snapped shut when he realized Zaviar was completely serious. He was out of his bloody mind but he was serious. If Antonin didn't respect him so much on principle he might've just hit him in the face and stalked off. Instead his hands curled into fists and he just stood there, twitching. Unable to believe his ears he held his tongue. Or tried to and then it wasn't possible any longer. "Because I love her," he informed Zaviar. "A whore wouldn't be the same thing. She's not just a cheap thrill." Not a cheap anything. Circe hadn't come cheap in the first place, she'd been a challenge, but Antonin didn't want it any other way and there wasn't anyone else that he wanted. Sure she seemed to think that he had a thing for Zaviar (and okay, so one of the reasons he was so loyal to the man and willing to follow him was because he was a little in love with him) but she was the one he wanted and loved and all of that ridiculously romantic stuff that just didn't seem like it applied but it sort of did in his head. "I'd appreciate if you didn't suggest things like that again."
Zaviar scoffed. "Love." A fairy tale thing. And yet Antonin seemed to think that he had it with that snake. Zaviar did not know Circe very well but what he had heard painted a rather easy to understand picture. He did know Ulysses after all. Did not like him or view him as important as Antonin so that meant he would be more on the necromancer's side... if he took a side. Which he did not. Except for when Circe got in the way of Antonin serving a purpose. If only the necromancer had answered his phone call and told him about Nikita when he called then everything would be easier now. He might not have even waited up to speak with him. "So you love her, or think that you do. That was known years ago. But her? Antonin, be realistic, Alexandria Wilkes-Gibbon does not love you or anyone else in this world except for perhaps herself." And Zaviar completely believed that.
Twice in the space of five minutes and Antonin was rendered speechless by what Zaviar had said. "You... don't even know her," he managed at last. He didn't. Circe and Zaviar weren't friends, so why did he get to call her Alexandria? Not that he got to call her anything since they didn't really speak. But he was thinking of her that way. "She..." Has never once said that she loved me. Antonin took a step back so that he could rest against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his head back into the wood. He's not right. Yet, playing over every conversation that he remembered, Antonin couldn't remember ever hearing that word from Circe's lips. And that seemed like the sort of thing that he'd remember since he always waited for it. He didn't expect it from her, knowing better, but the fact that he knew to not expect it? I know she doesn't. Ouch. But no, it couldn't be true, she was just always caught up in the moment. Antonin's eyes went flat as they could when he looked at Zaviar, no emotion showing there. "She loves me. Prefers me over her husband, all of that."
There was doubt in his voice. Zaviar could practically taste the doubt hanging in the air between them. "Yet she's still married and wearing her rings." He shook his head, absently drumming his fingers on the arm of the couch. "That doesn't say love to me. Just admit it to yourself and stop pulling the wool over your eyes. Circe doesn't love you, Antonin, or else she wouldn't stay married to Ulysses and go to him when he calls even if you're there." If he could admit that to himself then it would drive a wedge between them. He could use that to his advantage. And he would. Zaviar had absolutely no shame in using every last resource to his advantage.
Circe doesn't love you. The words echoed inside of his skull, bouncing off the planes and getting louder and louder every time until Antonin had to press the heels of his palms into his skull to try and get them to stop. No, it wasn't true, she did. So why couldn't he convince himself that it was true? Because I know it's not. It felt like admitting that his mother wasn't alive. (Which she was, she was.) A little piece of him was breaking away and he couldn't keep hold of it. Circe wasn't there to distract him with her eyes or the feel of her skin and lips, there wasn't a single thing but Zaviar and his calm look and the words that he'd said. That Antonin had accepted. "No," he said after a long moment, his voice rough. "She doesn't." And he couldn't stay to hear anymore. He'd told Zaviar what he needed to and that meant he could go. Knowing he'd hear about it later, and not caring for probably the first time, Antonin whirled and went off through the door. A bar sounded like a good idea then. Being drunk sounded brilliant. Filling his head with the thoughts of others so that he didn't have to hear those words over and over again, boring into his head and leaving him feeling beyond damaged. Forget work, he couldn't be trusted with anything but a bottle of whiskey.
'Are you happy with yourself?' Knight asked, his tone clearly disapproving when he looked up at Zaviar from where he was stretched on the carpet. 'I think you broke that man's heart.'
"Not really," Zaviar denied it simply, reaching out to pick up the book that he had been working on before. He was referring, of course, to breaking Antonin's heart because he was completely content with himself and his actions. Would have gone and done the entire thing all over again. Not that it had really lasted all that long. Huh, so that was how long it took to break someone's heart. That was good to know and Zaviar filed that away along with the name of the vampire Antonin had found. "Circe's the one who broke it, I just made him look at the facts."
'Could have found a better way.'
"This way is more useful for me." And that, that was what mattered in the end. Zaviar did not even bother calling to ask where Antonin was going. The man likely would not answer and it was not like he cared. The wedge was there so his goal for the night that had only been set an hour or so ago was accomplished.