I Do Not Go Gentle

She slipped under the desk, the realization that they were under attack fully settling in, like a rock in the deep pits of her stomach. Devon’s words only cemented it, and Kassidy only nodded as the chaos finally began to reach a peak. People were running; fighting–it was hard to tell if you didn’t know any better who the good guys were. 

Instantly, she wished her powers were working. She could find out what was on their minds, figure out their next move. She was just was lost as anyone else, taken by surprise. It wasn’t a feeling she was excited about, and she was sickened by the thought of not having her powers during an ordeal like this. 

“You need to stay behind me, watch my back while I clear the way. Ok?” It wasn’t intended to be taken in any sort of way by the other girl. It was out of necessity. It didn’t make sense to have the less experienced fighter leading the way. If she were being honest perhaps there was an element that she simply, obviously trusted herself more to do the job. And if she were to delve deeper, there was the obvious need to be the one causing damage and shedding the blood of those who hunted them.

Her hands went to the inside of her jacket, pulling out the knife she kept there. “Take this.” Holding it out, Devon took off her combat boot with her other hand and pulled out the other, smaller knife from there. Sometimes it paid to be paranoid.

As soon as the news came to Emery’s attention, he’d hastily jumped on his bike and began immediately making his way back to LA. The job he’d been on all but abandoned. Some Syndicate members had been injured during the raid. Others were still unaccounted for, having been taken into custody. Tensions were increasingly high as of late with all that had been happening - and now this. He wouldn’t be taking anymore jobs out-of-town for the foreseeable future. They needed everyone present and he should have known better. He should have been there. Em arrived at the Estate the afternoon following the raid; he’d ridden all through the night and morning to get back as early as possible. He practically pitched his bike parking it before hurrying in through the front door.

Her heart was beating slower, and in an instant, she was on defense. In a split second, she was trying to use her powers, hoping she could grasp and reach something in the mind of the man telling them to put their hands up. 

Except nothing. there was no change, there was no flooding of thoughts that use to terrify her. Only the increasing pace of her heartbeat and her own thoughts plaguing her. She tried for once in her life, to desperate catch her power, and nothing came. 

Had she lost them? The thought was terrifying, but she couldn’t focus on that…she had to survive whatever the hell this was. 

She swallowed the lump in her throat that had formed and her eyes darted around the room as she heard Devon respond. She couldn’t freak out now. She nodded slowly, biting her lip. “Didn’t think so.” 

Green eyes flickered over the other girl as she tried to work out how much of an asset she would be in their fight to get out of there. The telepath was small but then again so was Devon so she wasn’t about to discount her purely based on size. So she asked, little point in hanging around or being anything but direct with what was going on around them. “Can you fight?”

There were several plans forming in her mind about how to get them out of there. Devon couldn’t claim to be a maser strategist but she possessed enough knowledge to know what was a good idea and what was a bad idea.

Unfortunately everything that was a bad idea was exactly what she wanted to be doing. The urge to throw herself into the action and take out as many agents as possible was overwhelming, only fulled further when she heard tell tale signs of others fighting back. 

Her hands shifted to fists, clearly ready and more than willing to fight but for once Devon embraced her more rational side. They were caught off guard, all of them disarmed when it came to their powers and most without a weapon other than their fists. She might have been foolhardy at time but she’d never been stupid - she knew a suicide mission when she saw it.

Devon. It was a nice name–not the name she expected, but nice nonetheless. Kassidy gave a nod softly, looking around the packed bar for a brief moment, forcing herself not to read minds before she heard Devon once more. 

Of course…training. Seemed like everyone did that now a days. She could tell even in their brief encounter that Devon wasn’t one like herself–one that wasn’t used to bloodied hands and a kick or two. 

So caught up in sending a glare his way, if only looks could kill, Devon’s eyes drifted back to Kassidy almost as an afterthought when she realised she was being spoken to. An apologetic half smile was given but there was no denying the grim edge to it or the fury in her eyes and determination in he stance. 

Quickly she looked back out at the bar, not wanting to take her eyes off things for longer than necessary. Any thing could happen in the fleeting second your attention was elsewhere. As her green eyes scanned the room the conclusion to what was going on seemed rather obvious to her. They were all in danger. “Nothing good.” Her eyes were still narrowed, except this time in concentration as she looked out and tried to reach her powers.

It’s an easy excuse for why he’s still standing here, easy smile still resting on his lips as he watches her temper ramp higher with every word out of his mouth. But in the end he doesn’t know that he’d need it at all. If it’s childish or cruel or some combination of the two, he still enjoys moments like this far too much. It doesn’t matter if she hates him, as long as she can’t ignore him.

“I’m slow. It’s a character flaw.”  The words are rich with sarcasm, because even if it were true, she’s made it blatantly clear how little his presence is welcome next to her. If he possessed more empathy he might almost find it sad how quickly she swears she doesn’t need anyone, but instead it’s simply funny when there’s a certainty he could make her change her mind on that one quick enough. Everyone screams for help when there’s a black bag being pulled over their head.

Whether she’d deserve it or not is only speculation on his part. Though it seems a fair bet that if she was going to try and set him on fire or something worse she’d be trying already.

He holds his hands up in some mocking excuse for a surrender, but he makes little attempt to move. “Sorry. I’ll try to be less concerned about the girl who wants to walk halfway home by herself, at night, in Los Angeles.” He attempts a more innocent expression, a thing he’s certain neither of them believe.  “You sure you don’t want me to walk you home?”

Ignoring him would be the easiest thing but she’s all ready bitten back too many times now for her to be sure she could brush him off easily. And then there was that little part of her that saw it as losing somehow if she just ignored it. The child’s way out of it when her words alone weren’t enough to drive him off onto the next person who fell victim to his company. 

The sarcasm doesn’t make her laugh. Nothing even close to a smile conjured by it. Instead it causes her to lift her glass to her lips once more, surprised that there’s anything still left in it with the way he’s been making her want to gulp it down. Rolling her head on her shoulders as if that’s supposed to relax her enough that she can keep her temper, Devon fixes him with another icy look. 

“I can think of plenty others too.” With the sharp comment she finishes off the rest of her vodka and for a moment just glares at him. Green eyes travel over him briefly, trying to weigh up whether his hands spread in mock surrender would work in her favour should she chose to lash out now or whether the poison that she’d willingly been putting in her system would slow her down too much. It’s something she almost tries as the next words leave his lips, fingers itching to snap that faked innocent expression off his face.

But she’s tired of arguing and tired of the place itself so instead she just puts her glass down. And shook her head, not about to verbal grant him permission to come with her, though she was also too done to stop him. “At least try a little harder to fake the sincerity next time.” And with that she manages to get enough conviction in her step to move around him and head for the door.