Loba Andrade says you should smile more (adiamondlikeme) wrote in pathways_log, @ 2021-10-22 13:44:00 |
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Entry tags: | apex legends: anita 'bangalore' williams, apex legends: loba andrade, dishonored: corvo attano |
Who: Corvo, Loba and Anita
What: Loba discovers there are deadly consequences to her stealing from people who don't like to be stolen from.
When: Early August
Where: A shopping center, then Corvo's place
Ratings/Warnings: High, gunshot wound and blood
Status: Complete
To say that Loba had been getting sticky fingers of late was an understatement. Not only did she feel it in her blood, but it also was something she needed to do. She felt as though she were a thief, even though she’d been trying so hard to separate herself from her father. She wasn’t a criminal and yet she also felt as though she were one. So after she’d come to remember the demonio, she’d started looking for something to steal. It needed to be something flashy and worth her time, and then she’d set her eyes on something.
Oh she knew she’d been playing with fire stealing from a man who was a big player in the criminal underworld, but she wanted the shiny thing he owned. Then came researching the security and working out her path to getting what she wanted. Luckily, Loba had her bracelet to help get her out of a sticky situation. Stealing the thing had been easier than she’d thought. The man’s security had been laughable, actually. She hadn’t even needed to use her bracelet. Though the security level wasn’t unexpected. Sometimes people like him didn’t bother with high security because they didn’t think anyone would dare take their things.
Loba didn’t find it to be the challenge she wanted, but it would do for the time being. It had still been a satisfying rush of taking something from someone who thought they were untouchable. What she hadn’t completely counted on was how far the mark would go to get it back. She’d figured that the police would not be involved because it could open the guy up to being arrested himself given his business dealings weren’t above board. Beyond that, however, she hadn’t quite thought about what she’d gotten herself into. At least not to the extent that she should have.
She was out doing some shopping when she got the distinct feeling she was being watched. It wasn’t quite the same feeling she got whenever she thought of Revenant, but it was similar. Subtly, she ascertained who was following her. There were two of them, and they weren’t even subtle about being hitmen in the sense of how they carried themselves. Loba had found she was suddenly good at picking out hired muscle and hitmen, skills she’d honed in that other life of hers that kept her alive when she’d survived on the streets.
Knowing that she was safe as long as she was in public, Loba used her shopping to plot an escape. While she feigned interest in clothes, her mind was focused on getting out of there. And so, a few minutes later she exited the store, ensured the men were following her again and she used the crowd to her advantage. She weaved through it and ducked out one of the entrances to the mall. Loba tried to make it to her car but she hadn’t been sneaky enough.
She didn’t even hear the shot due to the silencer on the gun, but she definitely felt it. Loba let out a cry of pain as the bullet lodged in her arm. She ducked down between cars, then decided to forego her car. She could come back for it later, after all it was still a ways away and she had no intention of dying here. So she slipped part of her bracelet off of her wrist and tossed it as far as she could, then teleported. She used it to escape the two hitmen, as they couldn’t keep up with her. And with the teleportation, there wasn’t a solid trail of blood for them to follow.
Yes, Loba needed medical attention, but she felt as though she needed to get to Corvo first. She’d feel better having someone protecting her, and there was little doubt that the hitmen would immediately report back to their boss and hospitals would be watched for her. So it was getting protection from Corvo, and taking a bit of a roundabout way to his place. She teleported as much as possible before she finally got to his doorstep. She knocked a bit frantically, then held her injured arm as she scanned the area around her.
“Please be home,” she muttered. Loba then realized she probably should’ve called him from somewhere safe, but that wasn’t how her mind had worked. She’d wanted to get as far away from the men as possible and go somewhere they wouldn’t expect her to be. Part of her felt like she should go to Tony’s. She could easily stay there, but she needed some muscle of her own to keep her alive. She wasn’t that great with a gun yet, and she’d prefer someone trained in firearms and protection to ensure she didn’t end up like her parents.
“Porra de inferno,” she hissed. Pain was radiating along her arm, but she was trying to ignore it. On the bright side, at least she wasn’t getting bloodstains in her car?
It was lucky enough for Loba that Corvo was in fact home. He spent far too much time enraptured by keeping tabs on Elizabeth than was probably healthy, but as often as he pushed his people to take care of themselves it was bad form to not obey his own advice.
So, he was home, and feeling a little out of sorts for lack of anything to do.
Apparently, whoever was in charge of fate was in a funny mood today.
Proximity sensors going a little crazy, someone at his doorstep, and a sense of alarm...
Corvo ran a quick check of his cameras then rushed to the door. He didn't say anything, simply pulled Loba inside and down the hall to the bathroom.
He flipped the mirror around to reveal a full scale first aid station. "Usually I'm using this on myself."
There was a lot that could be said about today. Fate intervening to give Corvo something to do. Karma coming back to bite Loba in the butt. Loba was just glad that the people that were after her weren’t Blothundr, otherwise they most likely would have found her. Which was a name she hadn’t really known before, and yet she felt as though this Blothundr was a friend of hers.
She quickly pushed that aside as Corvo opened the door and relief washed over her. Loba didn’t show it, but she had actually been terrified that she’d get a bullet in the back, or in her head, as she tried to get here. But once she was inside, she felt safe, or at least safer than she had before. The fact that Corvo had a full scale first aid station didn’t shock her.
“Why does that not surprise me,” Loba commented through clenched teeth. Her arm burned, but adrenaline had flooded her system and she’d been able to block out the pain as she’d been focused on getting away. But now that she’d been relieved to find some security, her injury started to register in her mind more potently. “Perhaps I should have sent a message that I was coming, but I had other things on my mind. I am glad that you are home.”
“Why go to a hospital when you can avoid it?” Corvo quipped. That was certainly part of it, but first aid was a basic thing one needed to know in his line of work. Thankfully he’d never needed to apply it to one of his clients, but it was always in the back of his mind.
He started to get to work, washing the wound with surprisingly gentle hands, “There’s no exit wound, so this is going to be unpleasant. Why don’t you tell me what happened while I work?”
Master of understatement.
Loba couldn’t argue that it was definitely preferable to avoid the hospital whenever possible. It was not lost on her that she’d clearly avoided a hospital in her current situation. Her first instinct had been to get somewhere safe with someone who could return fire if she’d been followed. She hadn’t even thought about the fact he’d be able to dress her wound, just that she knew Corvo would keep her safe.
She only slightly flinched now and then as Corvo washed the wound and assessed it. Even though she could easily look at the wound, or even see it in her peripheral vision, Loba was pointedly not looking at it. Her gaze was fixed on something on the opposite wall. She wasn’t squeamish, it was more triggering her dead parents issues. And, apparently, PTSD that this other her had over having witnessed her parents’ murders. The look on her face was one of stone, though it was largely a mask for the building turmoil within being caused by the fact she’d been shot in a similar fashion to her parents. She was aware that Corvo wanted the details no doubt for two reasons, one to keep her distracted while he pulled the bullet out and two for determining if this was a one-off thing or not.
“I was out shopping when I got the distinct feeling I was being followed. I subtly confirmed I was being followed by two men, obviously mob-affiliated. They stuck out like sore thumbs, honestly.” Having grown up in Vegas, she’d long since learned who to steer clear from based on how they dressed. And mob hitmen were not as subtle in how they dressed as they liked to think. “I exited the mall and intended to lose them in the parking lot before they could do anything, but one of them shot me before I could put any sizable distance between us. My teleportation device helped me get away from them and get here. They couldn’t follow me.”
Loba doubted that even Blothundr could’ve tracked her here. Any blood that had fallen on the ground would’ve left a very broken trail thanks to the jump drive, and it would’ve been near impossible to trace where the next blood trail would appear.
Corvo wasn't going to bring attention to her reaction, he knew well enough how hard some things could be. His own memories were scrambled between witnessing Jessamine's death and not actually being there when she died and he no longer was sure which was true. Perhaps both were. Here and there, or some place between worlds.
He grunted, finishing cleaning the wound and then starting to wrap it, "If the mob is after you, either you crossed them on accident, or on purpose. So which is it, Loba?"
Loba was doing her best to swallow the PTSD-related anxiety she felt welling up inside her. There’d be time to let it out later once she was home safely. For now, it was keeping the mask in place, though the mask had hard edges to it, so anyone who bothered to look close enough or knew the signs of PTSD, could tell that she wasn’t okay.
And that was even without the gunshot wound showing that she physically wasn’t okay.
Of course, she’d expected that question sooner or later. And in reality, Loba didn’t know how to answer. While she had, in fact, stolen from them, she hadn’t anticipated having hitmen sent after her in response. She’d expected something else, something that she could talk her way out of. But one couldn’t talk their way out of hitmen being on her tail.
“I suppose it veers closer to having been on purpose. Though sending hitmen after me for what I did seems to be a bit extreme in terms of reactions.”
“Tell me you at least stole something worthwhile,” Corvo replied, turning to the sink to wash his hands. He was methodical about this, the redness of Loba’s blood staining the white marble.
There were two ways to approach this, and he felt like what Loba needed right now was a bit of humor and not being pressed too hard. At least, not beyond trying to establish a game plan. He was, after all, a professional, “We’ll have to figure out how to get you out of this, but in the meantime you’re going to need protection.”
“Of course I did. I wouldn’t just steal some worthless piece of shit,” Loba retorted with a bit more bite to her voice than she’d intended. She was on edge and more prone to snapping at people than she typically was.
Establishing a game plan was a necessity. Loba would appreciate not being pressed too hard on the subject, though she also wasn’t really in the mood to be receptive to humor. “Yes, I need protection. But I can figure out how to get myself out of the situation.” Not that she wanted to deal with the mob, something she’d tried so hard to avoid after her father’s nefarious dealings. But she’d find a way to negotiate her way out of getting killed.
After all, she’d worked so hard to not end up like her parents, and yet she’d suddenly found herself in a very similar position that had gotten them killed. She closed her eyes and rubbed her hand over her face. It was everything she could do to swallow the panic and fear. She refused to break, so she willed herself to stay strong.
"What's worthless to someone might be valuable to another," Corvo pointed out, knowing full well what Loba might deal in was valuable to everyone. "But I see your point."
He fixed Loba with a look, then shook his head, "I know better than to argue with you about it and Void knows I'm a loner too. But I can assign someone to you and if you're willing to bend your pride a bit more than that, you do have people willing to help beyond that."
Loba couldn’t help but to roll her eyes a bit. She well knew that one man’s trash was another’s treasure and all of that. But she hadn’t stolen what could possibly be considered trash. While she hadn’t anticipated that it was something worth killing someone over, it was certainly worth quite a bit of money.
Now it was Loba’s turn to fix Corvo with a look. Her pride was being bent enough asking for a bodyguard. And to be honest, she refused to get Tony, or anyone else, involved in this. The mob was not to be trifled with, and she’d rather that her neck was the only one on the line, as it were. Well, hers and her bodyguard.
“How much will hiring one of your bodyguards cost? Or is that something that’s settled after I have no further need of their services?” Loba didn’t really know how that went. Did she make a payment upfront? Did she pay by the week? It would be helpful to have those sorts of details worked out before agreeing to getting a bodyguard. Money wasn’t an issue, of course, but this would take some time and finesse to smooth things over with the mob, Loba liked knowing when she’d need to pay, especially if it was going to cost her a pretty penny.
“We settle on a price up front, depending on the level of service needed, though there might be hazard pay if things change. I’m thinking you’re going to need a live-in guard for at least a little while.” There were also contingencies, but Corvo liked to strike a fair price and believed in a cap so that someone wouldn’t constantly end up having the cost of their protection keep going up.
Loba gave a little nod of understanding. “Might just want to include hazard pay from the get-go. This is the mob I’m dealing with.” She doubted they’d do anything that attracted attention, but she knew they wouldn’t relent easily. Or at all.
“There’s just one problem with a live-in guard. I only have one bed. Of course I don’t exactly sleep much so they can use my bed if they want. Otherwise I’ll buy a futon or something for them.” Loba did have a two bedroom apartment, but the second bedroom was her office.
“That’s fair enough,” Corvo agreed. He already knew who he was going to assign and frankly her ‘only one bed’ comment only made that a much more enticing and hilarious choice. Oh, he wouldn’t do it if he didn’t expect Anita to do her job, but torturing her a little bit? That was fun.
“I’m sure a cot would suffice.”
Now, if Loba knew who Corvo would assign her, she wouldn’t have come to him in the first place. Anita hated her and she well-knew that the woman would sooner put a bullet in Loba’s head than protect her. And she definitely wasn’t in the mood to put up with the woman when she was trying to keep an anxiety attack from happening. She refused to let anyone, especially Anita Williams, see her in that state.
“Please, they deserve better than a cot.” Loba commented, blissfully unaware of who Corvo was referring to.
“You could always share,” he said, keeping a perfectly straight face while he texted Anita. “But that’s probably not all that appropriate.”
Says the man who would share Elizabeth’s bed in a heartbeat, “We’ll make it work, the important thing is making sure you’re safe.”
“I could, but I doubt that either of us will be interested in that kind of a relationship.” Which was true, Loba was more focused on the whole not dying thing, and the bodyguard would be busy making sure she didn’t die. There’d no doubt be a cramp on her love life for the duration of this, but she could take being sexually frustrated if it meant not getting shot.
Loba took a slow breath to keep herself centered. “Do you prefer cash or check?” She doubted that it mattered, but it was definitely something she needed to know.
“Cash is best.” Corvo slipped his phone back into his pocket, “They’ll be on their way soon.”
It was all in the line of work to be getting texts from your boss at this hour of the evening, nor was it particularly surprising that Corvo was vague as hell about the situation. But Anita had been burned by him and his vagueness before, so it was with a wary look that Anita entered his house and stepped into the bathroom.
When she noticed who was in there, she rolled her eyes and stepped back out.
"Get your ass back in here," Corvo barked. "Our client has the mob after her and she needs someone I can trust to watch her back. And that person is you."
"ME?" Anita shouted from the hallway. She poked her head back through the doorway. "Out of all the people on your roster. Hell, VALLA's more level headed and Geralt's practically silent, either of them would be a better choice."
It didn't matter how much like ass - relative to how Loba normally looked, that was - Loba looked at that moment. Nor the fact that there was an obvious wound dressing, nor the fact that Loba looked like a stiff piece of concrete three seconds before water rushed through it and cracked it all to pieces. This was not the job for her. "She hates me!"
“I can do cash,” Loba responded. She'd no doubt need to get some, but she could do cash. No doubt it was easier to handle cash than check. No one could stiff the protection bill that way. Or so Loba figured it would work.
When the bodyguard showed up and she saw it was Anita, Loba stiffened further. If she had heckles, they’d have risen right then. “Out of everyone you employ, you choose her?! She’d rather put a bullet in my head than keep me from taking one!” Loba protested. She barely heard Anita’s comment of Loba hating her. “Forget it, I’ll handle this myself, like I should’ve from the start.” Loba stood up, ready to march herself out of there and hopefully avoid Anita.
Grunting, Corvo grabbed Loba's uninjured shoulder, "She's a professional and she can handle it." He kept his voice loud enough so Anita would hear it too, "She's the best shot I've got and she's taken bullets before. You couldn't get better protection."
SHIT, Anita thought. Corvo wasn't wrong about any of that, and usually she took pride in her service. But she also registered Loba's comment, and her face scrunched up. "Now wait just a minute, you think I'd actually shoot you? Are you for real? Girl, I keep people from getting shot. And I respect my firearm, something I thought you'd have learned when I gave you those lessons. I'm not about to use it like that."
She stepped fully into the room and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest. "Maybe that other me threatened you but I doubt she'd have ever pulled the trigger unless you were a real threat."
Loba was so focused on Anita that she actually jumped and recoiled when Corvo grabbed her uninjured shoulder. She was no where near okay, and she was trying to not have a complete breakdown or anxiety attack right here. Especially in front of Anita.
“I know you have respect for your weapon, but how am I supposed to know the trigger won’t get pulled if I annoy you too much?” The other Loba didn’t have a fear of guns, but the one right there in the bathroom had a fear of guns. She flinched a bit as the image of her mother getting shot flashed in her mind’s eye. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, forcing herself to take a couple slow, deep breaths.
“Fine. If I’m not putting you out, then fine.” Loba just needed to get home and lock herself in her bathroom before she lost it.
"There, it's settled," Corvo said, looking between them and getting a sense there was far more going on than he was actually aware of. But then his own memories were an absolute clusterfuck so he figured it was the same for them.
He pointed at Loba, "Take care of that wound."
He pointed at Anita, "Make sure she takes care of that wound."
Corvo opted to not warn Anita about the single bed. Besides, it's not like he had room to talk. "Only one bed" with Elizabeth was on his mind.
"You know I will. But I want to make something clear before I get the details sorted." Anita looked at Loba, trying to actually make eye contact, and maintaining as steady a tone as she could manage. "You may be the most annoying woman in the goddamned universe, but I will never allow you to come to harm, least of all by my hands. I am not some gun-toting madwoman incapable of morality or emotion. I proudly served the military with respect and a clear sense of duty, and I proudly serve Corvo - and his clients, that means YOU, Loba - with that same sense of duty and respect."
"So I will give you my best, because that's my job. But please never suggest again that I'd ever just shoot you. No one deserves that. You don't deserve it. And I'm gonna do everything in my power to make sure it doesn't happen again. OKay?"
It was getting harder to swallow her panic, but she managed to look at Anita when she addressed her directly. Somewhere deep down inside, Loba knew Anita would never shoot her, but she couldn’t help but remember how much the other Anita hated her. And looking down the barrel of that shotgun wasn’t exactly a comfortable place to be. She nodded a bit.
“Okay,” she responded. Loba wasn’t thrilled about Anita being around her 24/7, but as long as it just stayed a job and didn’t become anything more, she could handle it. She hoped. Loba wasn’t exactly used to sharing her personal space.
Corvo studied Loba for a moment, then nodded, "I'll have some food delivered shortly after you get to your place. You look like you could use a meal."
He figured Anita hadn't eaten yet so he'd make sure that there would be enough for two.
Anita took a quick assessment of the situation, remembering the things she'd observed on her way in. It looked like Loba hadn't driven there, which was alright with her. She preferred to be more in control of situations like these. "You ready to roll out, then, Princess? I'd prefer we got you home and safe before too long."
She had already packed a couple of bags and the arsenal she always carried around, because Corvo had told her to get prepared for a particularly long term case.
Of course, that now meant bunking with Loba Andrade for god only knew how long, but Anita knew she'd survive it. At least Loba was so busy that keeping up with her would be an easy distraction.
"My car's all ready to go. We don't need to make any stops unless you need something."
What Loba could actually use was Anita not being in her personal space so she could have her impending anxiety attack in peace. As much as she was going to say that Corvo sending food wasn’t necessary, she bit her tongue on the matter. It would be one less thing to worry about, and allow her to just dive into her work once she’d had her anxiety attack.
“I’m ready,” she responded to Anita, doing everything to keep her walls up and firmly in place. They were the only thing keeping her from falling apart currently. Loba glanced at Corvo. “Thank you,” she said. It was for the wound treatment, the protection and the food.
Of course, she knew she needed somewhere for Anita to sleep, but she could easily order a futon and get it delivered once she was home. And, well, now probably wasn’t the best time to drop the whole ‘only one bed’ revelation.
“Let me do a quick perimeter check, and then you’ll be good to go,” Corvo replied, nodding at Loba and then giving Anita a look. He pulled a strange looking weapon out of a drawer, some kind of extendable sword, “I don’t think that we actually have company, but best to make sure there’s no chance of an ambush.”
He knew exactly where any might come from, too.
While Corvo checked the perimeter, Anita took a few moments to raid his first aid kit for wound dressings and the like. A gunshot wound was nasty business, and Anita wanted to be prepared. She stowed all of her goods inside a nearby grocery bag, and slung it over her arm.
“I can step out if you want to freshen up or whatever. We’ve got a couple of minutes while Corvo makes his sweep. Do you want me to steal one of his shirts? You’re gonna be walking back into your apartment building, I know appearances are important with these things. Best not to cause alarm.”
Loba hadn’t even given thought to her appearance until Anita mentioned it. She glanced at herself in the mirror, but her make-up was still good. However, her top was a different story. There was some blood on it, though thankfully she’d been wearing a tank top so the shirt wasn’t torn or anything, but it was still a lost cause with the blood stain. It wasn’t as blood soaked as it could have been, though, so that was a small victory.
“Yes, please.” One of Corvo’s shirts would undoubtedly look highly out-of-place on her, but it would at least hide the bullet wound and her blood-stained top. Her arm was starting to hurt where she’d been shot, but she used the pain to keep her laser-focused on getting home and not descending into an anxiety attack. Or turning into a sobbing mess. Part of her really wanted to cry. The other part of her just wanted to scream until her voice went raw. But she kept a tight grip on those feelings and kept them buried within her.
Corvo made quick work of his sweep, discovering nothing out of the ordinary. It seemed as though Loba really had managed to give the mob the slip. Another concern was how secure her flat was, but he trusted Anita to do a proper sweep. Loba seemed confident they were unaware of her home.
He just hoped she was right.
He headed back to his place, knocking before stepping inside. "You're clear."
The sweep had given Anita enough time to hand a clean shirt over to Loba, though she'd stepped out of the room quickly afterwards. Loba didn't seem the type to accept help even if she needed it, and Anita didn't want to press her. She also figured focusing on getting cleaned up would be a welcome distraction.
By the time Corvo had returned, she was standing by the front door ready to go. Anita nodded at him, without asking him for any details. She trusted him to have handled any concerns she might have raised.
"Just waiting on the Princess. We stole one of your shirts, she's getting cleaned up. We'll roll right out when she's set."
Loba definitely wasn’t the type to accept help even if she needed it. Getting a bodyguard was a blow to her pride, let alone having to ask for help because she couldn’t get a shirt on. At least she’d done the sensible thing and started with her injured arm in putting on the clean shirt. It still hurt like a bitch to move, but she managed. And for the moment, she used the pain to try and keep her focused and in the present moment. If she let her mind wander, she’d lose it, and she refused to lose it in front of people.
She didn’t dare glance at her reflection again, afraid of what she’d see looking back at her. Would it be that little girl in her memories with her father’s blood smeared across her eyes? Or would it be the little girl from this world that was so alone? Loba didn’t want to know, she just as she was about to come out of the bathroom, she heard the nickname Anita had graced her with. While she normally wore it like armor, right now it just felt like salt in the wound. Taking a slow, deep breath, she headed out of the bathroom, squared her shoulders as much as she could and held her chin up.
“Thank you, Corvo,” she said before she and Anita took their leave. In fact, other than giving Anita directions to her apartment building, she was silent the entire way there. She was probably going to need to get Anita a security pass for the days she’d need to go into work. She also wondered if a parking pass would be needed as well for her apartment parking garage. That would at least be safer than Anita parking her car in the lot reserved for visitors. She’d look into those later. And at least for the next couple days, she’d simply work from home. She had no need to be in the office so her arm could heal a little bit before she had to face people again.
Upon arriving at her apartment building, it probably wasn’t quite the shining castle that Anita might’ve imagined Loba lived in. It was nice, but it wasn’t New York City penthouse nice. Of course, Loba could’ve afforded such a place, she could even afford a mansion, like the one she’d grown up in, but she didn’t want any of that. She wasn’t one for flaunting her money in that way.
Though perhaps to Anita’s liking, the building wasn’t easy to access if one wasn’t a resident. There was state of the art surveillance cameras and other security measures that would make it highly unlikely the mob would try to knock Loba’s door down and shoot her. Her apartment was close to the top floor of the building, so no one could stand on the street and get a shot at her either. Loba led the way into the elevator after they got inside the building, and pressed the button for her floor. She was silent, her gaze laser-focused on the digital display counting the floors as they went.
Once on her floor, she headed to her apartment, unlocking the door and stepping inside, flipping on the light. “Come in, and feel free to make any rounds necessary.” Perhaps Anita would freak a little bit at the light turning on, but the woman didn’t know Loba’s apartment and Loba didn’t want her tripping over the furniture.
It was a two bedroom apartment, or at least that is what the size of it suggested. While most people would no doubt have family pictures and memorabilia decorating their homes, there was none to be found here. The furniture was a modern aesthetic, and the apartment had an open floor plan. The living room had a small bar in it, and on the mantle were two matching, decorative vases. Of course, they weren’t actually vases, they were urns, but most people wouldn’t know that.
As Loba glanced at the couch, she was reminded of the little problem. “Also there may be a little bit of a hitch. There is only one bed. You can use my bed if you wish, I don’t sleep much.” And she sure as hell wasn’t going to be sleeping tonight. “Otherwise I can order a futon and have it delivered for you.”
Anita didn’t mind the silence all the way to the apartment. It’d been a long day for Loba and was already looking like a long day for her. She did take in all the security as they made their way to the elevator, making a few mental notes on who needed to be read in and where all the camera angles were.
It definitely wasn’t as swanky a place as she’d been expecting, but it was definitely nice. Anita hated when her expectations were thrown off, but she was also pleasantly surprised. Not knowing what to do with that emotion, she filed it away as she peered into Loba’s apartment.
She was about to make her sweep of the adjoining rooms when Loba mentioned the bed situation. That made her lips thin into a line, and she internally cursed both God and Corvo, who must have fucking known.
“I don’t aim to be any extra trouble to you. We can make it work… A futon’s fine, your couch also works if you don’t need me directly nearby. Tonight, especially, I think it’s best you get some good rest in your own bed.” It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than suggesting that they share, even if the bed was the size of the entire bedroom.
“Heh. That’s like the plot of some bad romance movie,” She added, though she couldn’t cover the sound of her own annoyance. “I’m just gonna do a quick sweep of the rooms here. Corvo said he was sending dinner but you probably have time for a shower or a nap, or… you know, whatever.”
The couch may have been a viable option for sleeping on a couple nights in a row, but on a longer term schedule? It was definitely not that great. Anita was probably used to sleeping on worse things than a couch for prolonged periods of time, but Loba didn’t want her to have to suffer such a thing while she was under her roof.
“I’ll order you a futon. I’m not sure how comfortable the couch would be after a couple nights.” Or, well, whenever Anita would sleep. Suddenly it was going to be a very tense period of time as they tried to adjust to each other’s habits and general sleep-wake patterns. And Loba didn’t exactly have the healthiest of sleep patterns.
“You honestly think I could sleep now?” There was an edge to her voice, one that strongly suggested she was a woman with issues. And considering her past, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that she wasn’t okay. It was undoubtedly PTSD but Loba had never actually gone to a therapist or been diagnosed with it. “I’ll be doing some work to keep my mind busy.” It was code for if she slept, no one would like it when she woke up screaming.
Right now she didn’t care if she was revealing too much about herself, Loba just desperately didn’t want to think too much on what had just happened. For as much as she’d spent the last 25 years of her life trying to not turn into her parents or share their fate, she’d suddenly found herself being in the same type of situation that could get her killed the same way they’d been killed.
“Honestly? I’m just trying to give you a reason to take a break from my presence and get some rest. You got shot today, you ain’t had any time to deal with that. You haven’t had anything to eat, you’ve lost a lot of blood, and even if it’s sitting down working that’s better rest than nothing I guess. But I know you can’t stand me, so I’m just- trying to give you an out, here.” Anita replied, a bit snappy herself.
It was clear that Loba wasn’t fine, clear that Loba hadn’t been fine for a while - given her own and Valla’s observations. And it was also clear that the perfectly manicured exterior Loba wanted to project was about to crack into pieces.
Anita didn’t figure Loba was gonna admit to that. But she also didn’t want to get in the way of a much needed break down. “Your work area’s already cleared and ready for you. I’ll take care of the futon issue myself.”
Well, Anita wasn’t wrong. Loba couldn’t stand the woman, but the reasons why she couldn’t stand her were conflicting with each other. But at the moment, Loba was less focused on how Anita made her feel and far more focused on trying to not fall apart in front of her. Knowing that the dislike was mutual, the last thing Loba wanted was for Anita to see her unravel and be vulnerable. While she didn’t think Anita would lord it over her or anything, Loba refused to let people see her being weak and vulnerable.
She probably should get in bed, her arm was hurting pretty badly, but Loba refused to just sit in bed and do nothing. She needed to work, to try and keep her mind occupied. Loba nodded a bit at Anita’s words and took a slow breath.
“Let me know how much it’ll cost.” Loba wanted to cover the cost since it wasn’t exactly something Anita signed up for. Perhaps it was Loba’s fault for not having an actual guest bedroom, but what was the point of having an unused room? It’s not like she had family that visited. It was one of the reasons she lived in an apartment, not a mansion. She hated unused space. “I’ll be in my office, but make yourself at home. The guest bathroom is next to the kitchen, you can use that one.” It would undoubtedly be more comfortable for both of them, after all. Otherwise Anita would use the master bathroom in Loba’s room.
Without much more delay, Loba turned and went into her office. She closed the door and leaned back against it, closing her eyes and pressing a hand over her mouth as she tried to hold it together. She sat there for a minute or two before she moved away from the door and went to sit at her desk. She didn’t start working right away as she let herself crumble just enough that she could focus on work. She did her best to keep herself quiet, but she was also in physical pain, not just emotional pain. Right now, she let her walls crumble a bit, just enough to release a little emotional pressure, then she refocused herself so she could do some work. It was a good thing she didn’t have any late night meetings or anything, she didn’t trust herself to be able to hold her business mode for any length of time right then. And so she let some of the emotion out safely away from prying eyes.