paradisa | (no subject)

Entry tags:

adrian veidt,
xena

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[Some time early in the morning (or late at night, depending on how one counts these things), Xena awakes with a start. It’s not that there’s any conspicuous noise, it’s just she has the feeling that something is terribly wrong. And she always listens to those feelings.

And that’s when she becomes aware of the figure in the bed next to her. In a flash, she’s reaching for a knife, and soon has the edge of it pressed up against the throat of the sleeping man. He should certainly be awake now.]

Explain.

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[ Even Adrian Veidt needs sleep, less than most perhaps, but the time is as sacred as any. The cool blade against his throat is as unwelcome as the presence of another person in his bed. He sleeps alone. He keeps silent and unmoving as he lets his eyes adjust.

Then he aims to catch the wrist holding the knife, in case it cuts him, and to send a swift kick to the woman's torso. ]

[Well. That did not go as planned. Xena takes the kick to the gut with an audible grunt, but it doesn't throw her off for long; she's too used to taking beatings.

She jerks her right hand back to free it from his grip, at the same time aiming her left hand at the pressure points on his neck.]

[ He expected her to crumple to the floor and cry, not struggle and keep attacking him.

He lets go of her hand when she jerks it, rolling over to dodge her and get off the bed. Satin (satin?) sheets are slippery and his brain is still waking up. He stumbles back to his feet. At least he's fully dressed in silk pajamas. ]

You explain.

[Xena is fully dressed as well, for a given value of "dressed." She's wearing the simple leather garment that always goes under her armor, not moving for the moment, but holding the knife out in front of her defensively.]

I'm not the one who crawled into bed with- [And that's when she registers the strange bed and, a second later, the strange room. She doesn't lower the knife, but her posture relaxes a little and her voice loses some of that hostile edge.] What's going on here?

[ Another man might appraise her state of "dress" with approval. Not that he doesn't. Her toned body reassures him that he had not been caught unaware by a common woman.

Adrian walks toward where the light switch should be and flips it on, throwing a skeptical gaze around the room. The pink hurts his eyes. ]

A practical joke.

Can't say I'm laughing.

[She lowers the knife, finally, and stares around the room in disbelief.]

It looks like Aphrodite decorated the place. [By her tone, this is not a ringing endorsement.]

The victims rarely do.

[ Adrian remembers the growing trepidation of a few castle residents on the impending date, but that's not for a few more days. Now he walks back to the bed to flip through the journal on his bedside table. His temper shows. ]

The castle decorated for Valentine's Day.

Cute.

[She moves to the door know, barely giving him a second glance.] Well, as entertaining as this has been, I don't plan on- [And at this point she's reached the door. The handle jiggles uselessly.]- Shit.

[ He watches her head to the door, the frown engraved deeper into his face as she fails to open it. The entries have told him as much but he hoped they were exempt. False hope. He places the journal back on the table. ]

Breakfast, please.

[ And a ghost phases through the door with a room service cart that solidifies once it enters the room, yes. ]

[You enjoy your breakfast, there Adrian. Because Xena has reached the point where she is royally pissed off. And his nonchalance isn't helping matters.

She's just going to spend the next few minutes attempting to kick down the door. It doesn't do much except provide an outlet for her temper.]

[ He picks his battles and a magical castle is an opponent he is unlikely to win against.

Adrian is just going to amble to the cart to uncover the spread. Grapefruit juice, muesli and fruits. He picks at grapes while watching her, thinking. ]

I'm getting real tired of this sort of thing.

[Eventually she becomes convinced of the futility of the exercise and sinks down into a nearby chair, half thinking, half fuming. There's a pause where she just sits in silence, but eventually she looks up at Adrian.]

You gotta name?

[ He picks up the glass of grapefruit juice and takes a small sip. ]

Adrian Veidt.

[ Picking up the plate of fruits with his other hand, he approaches her and holds it up for her to choose. There's no need to be uncivil, after all. ]

[What is this politeness? This is new. She'll pick an apple and start idly slicing it into pieces with her knife.]

Thanks. ...I'm Xena.

[ He would offer to get the ghosts to peel that for her but she seems content with her own knife. He places the plate on a nearby table and occupies himself with his glass of juice. ]

You're well-armed.

[She's the sort of woman who likes doing things for herself. She had to pose as a princess once (or twice) and the servants nearly drove her crazy.]

I'm a warrior. [And with any luck, her armor, sword, and chakram should be around here somewhere too.]

You could ask for more familiar food.

[ Because he isn't sharing his muesli. He finishes his drink and walks back to the cart to set it down. ]

What do you fight for, Xena?

I might.

[She's actually used to very small breakfasts. Often it's best to be able to get up and get moving quickly.]

If I say "justice" or "to help people," you gonna peg me as some sentimental idiot?

[It's the closest she can come to an explanation. She fights to protect the people she used to prey on. To help people and to cleanse her own soul, if there's any hope for that.]

No, I would not. Those are admirable reasons.

[ Justice compels him to peg her as a Rorschach, but that's premature.

He sets the cart near the bed so he can sit on the mattress while he eats, hesitating before taking the first spoonful. ]

I apologize if I harmed you earlier.

[A dismissive wave of her hand] Don't worry about it, I've had worse.

I'm guessing you're not a souvlaki salesman either. [She knows a trained kick from a shot in the dark.]

[ He stops his chewing to give her a pointed look. He should be flattered by the intention behind the remark if he isn't so ruffled by the remark itself. ]

I have men to do the selling for me.

[ Joking with a straight face. ]

[And the joke gets an amused smirk.]

Still don't know a lot of businessmen with a kick like that.

I consider it a healthy pastime.

[ He sets his spoon down and stands, moving toward his wardrobe to pick out a black turtleneck and slacks. He lays them out on the bed, side by side. ]

We may be here for days. Perhaps a week, if past occurrences are reliable predictors.

[Okay, fine. Be mysterious, then. Xena just shrugs. The thought had occurred to her as well, but damned if she could figure out what to do about it.]

Don't think it didn't cross my mind. You got any brilliant ideas?

I merely suggest we make the period tolerable for the both of us. Perhaps by agreeing to guidelines.

[ He stands in front of the laid-out clothes, considering the colors and textures, before moving to switch the slacks with an almost-identical one in a slightly lighter shade. ]

I'll go first: no weapons in bed.

Fine.

[Getting dressed is a significantly shorter process with Xena. She just clips the armor on over what she's already wearing.]

No touching weapons that aren't yours. [You mess with the chakram, you die.]

A deal.

[ He has made a ritual of dressing, now laying out the articles of clothing on his arm and heading for the bathroom. He takes a rather short time to wash his face and change, walking out while buttoning his shirt. ]

We'll take turns to sleep on the sofa.

More than fine.

[He's going to be classy about it, that's a relief. And a change from the usual crowd that she ends up around. Honestly, she doesn't have a lot more requirements than that. She doesn't care what he does, so long as it doesn't bother her. So she adds- only half kidding.]

And don't do anything stupid.

[ He chuckles at her next rule, thoroughly amused. ]

I've found that's a matter of perspective.

[ Adrian's nothing but classy, even as he keeps hogging the bathroom. He leaves the door open while he tidies his hair in the mirror. With expensive gel, of course. ]

Anything else I should know about you, Xena?

Trust me, I'll let you know.

[Anything else that he should know? Probably. A man has a right to know when he's locked up with someone who has killed thousands, doesn't he? But she's not going to be the one the tell him.]

There's not much else to tell.

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Sorry for the long delay jfklsfj

pssshh no worries!

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