#blindfated

I'm fine, hardly the most well-crafted lie in the world yet it remained the most common—easily accepted in the name of social politeness. Something Alena had never quite mastered, Nonetheless, she gives the stranger a polite nod despite knowing he couldn't see it, gently setting one of the menus she had made in Braille on the table in front of him.

"Sounds like you need something strong." Alena softly mused, tugging an Enamel Mug free from the loop she wore on her apron before pouring the steaming liquid from the pot of coffee in her other hand into the mug. The rich aroma filling the air between them as she set it down in front of him. "Here you go. No charge for the first cup, " A gentle warmth filled her tone in place of a smile, her bleeding heart would one day be the death of her and yet she could no sooner change her own nature than she could someone else's.

"My name's Alena, give me a call if you need anything. I'll give you a moment with the menu but I'll be back with some creamer. "

he knows corruption well, like a plague on healthy wheat. the sunlit kernels are robbed of color and stance until they are wilted—mush at the feet of disease, groveling. he is familiar with it. he is vaguely familiar with fisk. but matt is right, even if just out of politeness, to acknowledge that not every man would be so willing.

he wouldn't touch the mayor with a ten-foot pole.

some part of him still tries to convince himself that he may have gotten involved if that meant he could leave his prison, the federal leash a noose around the brittleness of his neck. he tries not to linger on the thought, but he is grimacing behind the false sense of security the lawyer's blindness gives him. his heart skips a beat—there are deeper layers of corruption than even the likes of fisk have yet to touch at the bureau. he bleeds on it, and wonders what they'll do with his organs once they've finally killed him off.

but he digresses.

“ please, forgive me— ” there is a measured pause. his brown gaze watches matt's face closely, but he is thinking to himself on how careful this man is, and how sincere he is trying to sound in response. “ i understand where your aversion comes from now. i did not mean to snap. though, i admit, the scrutiny makes me a little uneasy. never really had a lawyer looking over my shoulder the way you do. ”

" ketchup, mustard, you look like a goddamn hot dog. " it's a throwaway comment, a spearing insult off the fork of her barbed tongue just quick enough to cut. but it lets him know ... she's kept tabs on him just like she has with everything else in hell's kitchen. the 99 friends she'd counted a decade ago has doubled & tripled. vigilantes are anything but a dying breed these days.

------- in spite of fisk's campaign against them.

she hasn't exactly kept her head down either. the paint on her door sign is fresh, the glass uncharacteristically and temporarily whole. but right now, she's marching her way down a city block in the steep black drench of middle-night. boots sagging lazily around her heels, heels tromping out of oil-slicked puddles that lap the ragged hems of her jeans, she hears him step in time with her. her fist strangles a crumpled paper bag around a bottle. " what the hell do you want, murdock? "

+ @blindbastard gets plotted thing

+ " You're sure that I'm safe here ? " As far as Mary Jane Watson was concerned, there was absolutely nowhere that could ensure safety anymore. Everything that had been so simple and enjoyable in her life had been swept away all in a matter of days, and it left her feeling absolutely paranoid about every shadow out of the corner of her eye. All purely for what she'd quickly learned was apparently the most valuable thing in a city like this ; information . She had it, ,others wanted it, or didn't want her to have it altogether . Between the two groups, she was running out of options .

Getting a lawyer wasn't as much of a nuclear bomb as she'd have liked it to be, but it was a start . If she could figure out the right steps to take, maybe she'd actually manage to fall asleep without wondering what would happen while she was out .

__________✧      SHE  WILLS  HERSELF  NOT  TO  WINCE  AT  HIS  WORDS.  she  knows  he  doesn't  mean  it  as  a  cut,  but  that's  the  tragedy  of  ending  things  without  falling  out  of  love.  there  will  always  be  a  question  mark  at  the  end  of  their  story.  no  promise  of  catharsis  like  in  greek  tragedies  of  old,  no  hope  for  a  neat  end.  her  hair  is  freshly  dyed  blonde,  her  suit  is  new,  even  the  tech  hidden  beneath  clothing  is  a  far  cry  from  what  she  once  had.  when  given  the  chance,  she  ran  &&  disgarded  nearly  everything  about  that  past  life.  nearly  everything  about  herself  with  him.

✧__________      SHE  DOESN'T  KNOW  IF  SHE  SHOULD  EXPECT  HIS  HELP  IN  WHAT  SHE'S  ABOUT  TO  ASK.  she's  the  one  who  left  after  all,  he  has  every  right  to  turn  her  out,  to  say  he  doesn't  care  about  answers  to  the  question  left  between  them.  she'd  go  if  he  wants,  she  learned  long  ago  not  to  expect  understanding  in  her  past  actions.    ❛    well  that  depends  on  if  we  have  different  definitions  of  the  word  exciting  too.  i've  been  tracking  an  arms  dealer.  untraceable,  unregistered  firearms  tailored  to  superpowered  gangs.  nasty  stuff,  you  know.  lost  track  of  him  here  in  hell's  kitchen.  figured  if  there's  anyone  who  could  help  track  him  down,  you'd  be  it.  i  should  warn  you  though,  he  doesn't  want  to  go  down  easy.    ❜  she's  got  a  new  scar  along  her  abdomen  to  prove  it.

the criminal underworld was wrought with dark denizens, both human and preternatural. in most cases, this was not an issue. blood dens, for example, run by vampire clans in the shadows of cities maintained a service for those seeking less violent delights. the black market was flooded with magical artifacts and blacklisted spell ingredients. these were facts of life of which were carefully curated to ensure the mandate of secrecy remained upheld. of course there were the few and far between human whom became aware. there was no fashion of which this could be avoided in the modern world. she didn't particularly care as long as the body a vampire decided to drain wasn't on the five-o'clock news with a moniker of 'vampire killings'. that's not to say that kasia was heartless or enjoyed the shedding of life, it just meant she could accept reality. her job wasn't to stop the world from working-- even if she has acted against especially dark forces in the past-- her job was to maintain it within the shadows.

but this? this ventured so far beyond the line that even had she not been assigned this mission, she'd have wanted to see this clan wiped from the earth. furthermore, it was stupid. what benefit could there be if half your customers dropped dead like flies and the other half barely recovered from the mental impact and ramifications of what they'd taken? and for what? to play with humans? to gain more money? what idiot had decided it would be a gift to the world to turn a clan of street-rate drug dealers into members of the eldritch world? she doubted it had been anyone of a respectable age. they'd pay for their poor choices soon enough. now, however, their fledglings who thought themselves running their own little empire were to be dealt with.

this is what brings her team to new york city, where said operation is being conducted out of a warehouse. intel informs that her team may not be the only one's who have stumbled upon it. a reporter had bene poking around and she'd been informed the area was patrolled by one of those masked vigilantes or heroes which litter the news. oh the horrific truth they’d come to discover if allowed to go any further into their quests. vampires weren't something to be triffled with, even if they were young and this operation had a sizable number if her informant was to be believed. and so, kasia moves in first, shrouded in an inhuman darkness while her team remains outside, waiting. she hears it-- the chaos, the near growling, the fight-- before she sees it.

kasia's not the first then. that was unfortunate.

she waits, assesses. contemplates letting it play out to conclusion. if the guy in red lost it'd be one less wild variable to deal with in the aftermath once her team takes this operation out-- though she holds no doubt it's only one within a network. yet, it's clear he hadn't known what he was walking into. she can smell blood in the air. she's fairly certain he's not bitten, likely thanks to his suit, but that hadn't meant the vampires hadn't unleashed their wrath. strange that they hadn't just dispatched him even if he's not moving much now. he's alive though, she can sense it as she reaches out with her senses. the vampires... they were having fun causing suffering. having fun playing with a human.

perhaps that's what tips the scales. she's seen the fire in the eyes of people who sought another's suffering before. she's been a victim of it. kasia shrouds the man in red in her shadows and signals for her team to move in. a line of flames flashes through the space, moving passed the man in red close enough to feel the heat sparking two vampires set alight to rise into the air in their attempt to escape. kasia puts down two more who seem to be more capable than most of the others in combat-- he manages to strike a gash into the side of her face. another operative takes out a vampire who attempts to make a move on her from behind and she pulls a vampire off the man on the ground. it all plays out quickly after that.

when it’s over and light is allowed to seep back in, the warehouse is a bloodbath and cleaners in vans outside are already prepared to move in and wash away any signs of what had transpired. they don't need the local police finding the desiccated corpses of vampires. one of her team looks at the man on the ground and then her and she tells him to see what he can find about their operations. they don't have a medic with them, all of them have their own ways of healing if hurt. so kasia moves forward and kneels on the ground, allowing her shadows to create a barrier around them. she doesn't think whoever this is would enjoy the sensory overload of everything suddenly happening in the warehouse once they come to their senses.

@blindfated​ continued from x. 

Ouch, she must have struck a nerve, though that was something Gemma had mastered. Striking nerves enough so that everyone, and she meant everyone. Is kept at a distance, even if that was the last thing she wanted. “Huh, so the acrobat has a distaste for his full name. Memories are a bitch, huh?” Brown eyes looked Matt up and down, trying to read him, but somehow coming up with only a few things. “That is life, Matt, it’s overwhelming, and it just keeps taking and taking.” Gemma glanced down at the cement below her feet. She knew that all too well, not that she would outwardly admit to that. “I used to do that, ask for help, and after the fourth time asking..” More like begging, “I gave up. Why believe in heroes or gods, when you can deal with shit yourself.”

Guess you could call her cold-hearted for that belief, but it was and is how she continued to survive. When Matthew looked in her general direction, she figured he seemed to know where she was. But made it a point to not quite look at her.

Isn't that the question, “I guess you might be right. Some of us become what the world has molded us to be. And you know what the worst part of that all is? At the end of the day, they hate what you become.” Gemma laughed, “they don’t believe that the world is this ‘cruel’ and that we can all be better. What about you, what did the world make you?”