[If laughter can't be considered a threat, the words that follow certainly should be:] Someone's gonna punch that fucking mouth if you don't watch out, stranger.
[ Uttering a pained noise, Cat darts to one side, away from him. Her scowl is magnificent and feral, and there is a dull ache starting up in her forehead. Her voice is an angry hiss. ]
You bruise me and they'll ask questions, idiot. [ He should know who "they" are. ] Lay the fuck off.
[ Well, that certainly doesn't sit well with Cat. With a snarl she shoots forward again, a tightly clenched fist aimed right for his jaw, ready to slam her body into his if she misses or he moves. ]
[ She keeps smashing her fist against him, wherever she can reach, bristling furiously. He knows, he absolutely knows what she's implying. It's not just to tone down the blows they're exchanging, but to stop calling her "stranger". That hurts and angers her more than any bruise he might give her. ]
Good -- that's good. [He slips that remark between dodges and impacts and retributions. It's nothing more than provocation, something he knows Cat rarely takes too well, especially as frustration grows in her. That's how Bass operates, by stretching his opponents physically and mentally until something snaps. He wants Cat to snap more than anyone else, wants her to release everything in this battleground before it consumes her in her mission.] You're getting better.
[ Her voice is a little strained as she moves back only to ram her shoulder into his chest again, shoving him backwards with all her might, until she can find something to force him into, something to forcibly connect with. She's going beyond a point where she cares how Bass will retaliate. Hell, she'd even let him make her bleed at this rate. If she could have her way, she'd take his head and slam it into a brick wall, that's how angry she is right now, but she still has conscience enough to realise that probably wouldn't help anything in the long run.
[That snatches the air from his lungs, shoulders hunching over the pain with an unfading smile. Why that's the reaction it triggers isn't entirely clear, but something about Bass's behavior and intentions is decidedly staying out of sight today.
There's blood snaking from his brow when his hand reaches for her throat without warning, foot swinging against her ankles to throw and slam her on the floor. Bass is unprecedentedly forceful about the way he's keeping her down there, one knee on the ground, the other on her chest, hand around her neck.
[ A yelp chokes in her throat, strangled and pathetic sounding, even if she goes down kicking. Her mouth curves ever so faintly at the sight of blood. She does love to leave her mark where she can, even though her mark is often an a mess that'll never be recognised again. She squirms and writhes in his grasp, her expression showing no fear even though she would probably be dead already if this were someone else.
Maybe she trusts him, without thinking to. Or maybe she just doesn't think there's anyone else out there who could come as close to killing her as Bass could. Maybe she thinks she could hold her own against anyone else in the world.
One hand claws at the arm above her neck, nails digging into his skin, the other claws at midair as she tries to force herself up enough to catch Bass' shirt, pull him down, get his own neck closer to her hands. Even now she won't give up so easily. ]
Whatever-- whatever the hell you want.
[ Breathless and muffled.
Come on, she's saying. Do your worst, it's nothing I haven't seen before. ]
[Eyes narrow at her after she's done, dodging her attempts and gritting his teeth at the nails somehow trying to dissuade him from keeping her in place. It doesn't work, earning only the occasional complaint, not until she's finished talking and Bass sees that look in her eyes.
It's not about what they're telling him. He realizes that in the moment: it's what he wants to say to her every time they're reunited, what he wants to do to her when she refuses to fucking listen, despite his efforts to understand and help her keep going.
Come back. She refuses. We'll figure out something else. She refuses. You need to stop before this fucking ruins you. And she refuses.
It's his turn to refuse.]
I don't think I will.
[The smile is completely gone. He exhales, waiting another moment before releasing her with a heavy, quick sigh, back on his feet before she gets the chance to reach for him again. From the way he lets his arms fall to his sides and he turns to walk a few steps away it's plain to see there's no intention to keep this fight going anymore.]
Cat lies quite still on the ground for a moment, wildly staring upwards as her mind tries to understand exactly what just happened. Why did he just stop? She has felt alive for the first time in weeks and he is ruining it, he's pushing her closer and closer to an edge that she doesn't want to be anywhere near. A snarling noise rises in her throat as she suddenly scrambles to her feet, inelegant and stumbling, her voice high pitched and cracking with outrage as she bounds after him. ]
Hey- what the fuck do you think you're doing? [ The momentum she builds is what she uses when both her palms collide with his back, wanting to provoke any reaction she can. ] Come back here right now- you are not leaving me like this, you bastard.
[ Bass is right. She's not in the right frame of mind, the whole process is driving her insane with all the dead ends and the monotony and the calm. She doesn't belong in Camden, she's pushing herself so far out of her comfort zone that she's losing herself, but above all else, Cat just doesn't want let her kingdom, her king, down. She volunteered because she thought she could succeed, but in failing she is turning manic. All she wants right now is a fight. She wants her blood to pump in her ears and adrenaline to rush through her system. ]
[She barely manages to make him stumble or stop, and certainly doesn't get him to turn around. His fingers are patting his lips to check for blood, shoulders slightly hunched up, the other hand going into his pocket - she might as well not be there.]
I don't feel like it, Cat.
[His voice is flat, his tone distant and cold, still breathing back in some of the energy lost during their match. Where there had been the desire to provoke her and keep the fight going more intensely than ever now settles a sour calm. Something in his mind clicked and turned everything upside down when he saw her, challenging him (--he didn't see a challenge, he saw a miserable plea--) with a look that just made him... angry. It's the same anger that manifests in Cat through her outbursts, in a way; the kind that's about to reach the point of no return, leading Bass to gradually shut down until the violence in him simply erupts.]
You can stay here or you can leave with me.
[This is not something he or Fox agreed to, it's not even something he had in mind when he made his way to meet with her for the nth time, but the past few days have riled him up without him quite realizing it, increasingly plagued by the thought of Cat's descent and her blind rejection to his offers to pull her out. He doesn't like what it's doing to Fox, doesn't like what it's doing to Cat, and is only starting to realize what it's doing to him.]
[ There is not a single fibre in Cat's body that accepts this. Gripped by a blindness born out of her own very specific brand of devotion and loyalty, she is entirely oblivious to the thought that perhaps it would be the braver or even the more beneficial option to stop, and go home. It doesn't occur to her for even a second that Fox and Bass would rather have her back at their sides rather than going crazy looking for some seemingly invisible flaw that could lead to Camden's demise.
All she wants is to prove herself. She doesn't have Bass' sheer strength, or Fox's charisma, his effortless leadership abilities. She has whatever brute force her body and her agility will allow her, a knack for survival and an infinite source of determination. She doesn't realise that this enough. She doesn't have to be anything else, but something in her head is convinced that she can be more, for both Fox and Bass, for the kingdom. The sudden change in Bass' character has made her blood run painfully cold and boil to immeasurable heat all at once. ]
How many fucking times do I have to tell you this?! [ Another smash of her fist against his back. She's almost screaming on the last word, but she catches herself, stops and pauses, trying to continue as steadily as she can, but her voice is quivering. ] I'm not leaving until I have something for you- for Fox! For the whole bloody kingdom! Why the hell won't you just believe in me?
[ As soon as she spits the words out she regrets asking, but steels herself resolutely for whatever answer may come. She doesn't really want to know why Bass just wants her to come home, because she still fears that the answer will be "you're not good enough". ]
[Bass isn't quite rolling his eyes when she keeps going, not as much as he's looking away to focus on something else, even if just to resist whatever urge runs through his nerves. She can talk all she wants, he tells himself, she can do whatever she wants. He's leaving and telling Fox something needs to fucking change.
Both of them have thought about the consequences of pulling her out, of course, of simply allowing Cat back in the kingdom without an explanation or the admission that their plan had collapsed and the King had allowed his Knight to give up. It had been a dangerous scheme from the start - if not for the kingdom itself, for the lives the people involved had built for themselves up until then. It was Fox's ambition and Cat's cunningness that led them to this situation; all Bass was ever interested in was standing by his leader's side and reinforcing his authority. Nothing else was needed, and now the feeling that he has everything to lose grows with each passing day. Fox isn't aware of that - he can't be - because the reports Bass brings back home never mention what Cat's fruitless infiltration is doing to her. It's better this way, he believes (--believed, up until a moment ago). Better if Fox stays happy, better if Cat does what she wants to, better if he just stays quiet.
[ If Cat had even the faintest idea of what Bass wanted to go and do, if she had known that he wanted to tell Fox how much all of this was messing with her, she wouldn't have known what to do. Part of her would have wanted to die sooner than have Fox know that she has failed him, that she doesn't have the emotional or physical strength put together to get through this. Part of her might even have wanted to see Bass dead sooner than he would be able to reveal all to Fox. But she doesn't know that. Not yet, at the very least.
For a few painful moment she's lost for words, perplexed and confused by the question. She feel so small, so like a child. Cat hasn't felt this way in years, not since she came to London. She feels trapped for the first time since her childhood, in a situation that seems to promise agony no matter what end is achieved. Where others might find this sobering, this is just another maddenning thought to her. Another shove pushing her in the wrong direction. ]
What- what kind of a fucking question is that? It's about Fox- his plans, his goals, it's about helping him succeed, helping him bring down this stupid kingdom, show everyone what he's capable of--
[ Her voice catches in her throat, and she can't think of how to continue. ]
[He can almost find the lost girl he met years back when he turns and sees her, and he's not sure if that takes away from or simply fuels his aggravation. That's when finally decides to walk towards her, one step at a time, suddenly seeming a lot bigger and intimidating than before.]
How can you ask me to believe in you--[his finger presses against his chest repeatedly, volume low still low but his throat tense, right until he's towering over the redhead.]--when I barely even know who the fuck you are anymore?!
[ Bass can tower and intimidate all he wants, it will never have the effect on Cat that it does on others. She barely even blinks, not a flinch or a single step back as he moves towards her. Her eyes are wide with incredulity, her mouth hanging stupidly open as she stares at him. Her stomach is twisting in strange and painful shapes and a quiet voice in her head is telling her to just stop, but it's drowned out. ]
You're full of shit, Bass, did you know that?! [ Where Bass is trying to keep his voice quiet, Cat is near to screaming. ] I'm the exact same- I'm what- I haven't changed, or whatever the fuck you're talking about!
[ But she doesn't sound quite as convinced as she should. ]
[She could say the same about you, Bass. One minute you want to keep things the way they are and provoke all the frustration out of her, the other you want to leave her with an ultimatum and an unfinished fight.
He shows teeth, still standing over her figure, breathing,]
[ Her voice is shrill as she suddenly aims another clumsy punch to his face, before reaching for his neck just he had already done to her. Now more than ever she wishes she was strong enough to truly hurt him, to break and bend him out of shape and vent every molecule of anger out of herself. She's an angry, volatile person, one way or another, but this is a new level. Bass can see right through her, and she hates that. ]
[Fine, then. Bass won't waste any more time - he's tired of her refutations and of how irritatingly desperate her denial has become anyway. When Cat clasps her hand around his neck, his own grabs her wrist and twists the arm around her back, forcing her to turn before he pushes her against the wall in a swift movement. It's a short-fused reaction for such an effective move - rougher than what he's accustomed her to - yet there is no change in the volume of his voice, temple resting against hers.]
Tell me again, Cat: What am I supposed to do with you?
[ She cries out loudly with pain as Bass twists her arm, her eyes glazing with tears of discomfort. Somehow, she is still unfraid. Maybe her rage is obscuring her capacity to be frightened of what Bass might do, maybe she is just past the point of giving a damn about what could happen to her. Yet, of all things, she finally stops squirming and fighting him when their foreheads connect. Somehow it feels like that movement more than anything else pins her into place. Breathing heavily, she stares at him with wide eyes, alarmed by this form of proximity.
Her voice has finally been worn down to a quiet, breathless murmur, but it hasn't lost its edge. ]
I don't know. [ And again: ] Whatever the hell you want.
[Her cry goes unheard, and he barely even notices that she's finally stopped fighting back. His shoulders are pressing against her back, his leg against her knee pit, both of them facing the wall. While Cat stares at him in alarm, Bass's gaze gets lost somewhere far from where they stand, unfocused and unreadable. It's only then that he notices how sharply he's breathing, how fast his heart is pumping in this moment of quiet.
Cat's arm is released. Bass turns her around and watches her, searching for a sign of something he can't quite describe in her eyes. Hope, maybe? A secret she's trying to make him understand she can't reveal? Anything that can make sense of this, anything that can help him understand why she's come to this point.
He can't find it.
People never look at Bass and see a contemplative man. It's hard to call him emotional when the most anyone can snatch from him is a provocative smile or a focused glare accentuated by the blood shining on his skin in the heat of battle. Fox - the one man who knows him better than anyone else, the one man to whom Bass owes his entire truthfulness and can call his family in everything but their blood - even he can't always guess what's on his brother's mind. Bass often sees what's on his, but now he wonders if that's only been a reflection of his own concerns.
They'd been the perfect trinity of strength and trust, with their own code of honor and disregard for anyone else's ambition. Fox and Cat were working to extend the reaches of the world that had been created before them while Bass was just content to be in it with them. Now that world seems increasingly more volatile as time goes on, threatening to collapse right in front of him, and he can't seem to do anything to make Cat see that he doesn't want to lose it. Suffice to say his silence is not easily broken, this being no exception - for as much as he's bursting at the seams with the frustration and helplessness, nothing can quite pull the words out of his head.
The quiet stops. The helplessness, the resentment seem to sink in his chest and become something else, and in that moment Cat becomes someone else: still the girl he met years back, but changed by the woman now staring up at him, eyes and mouth shaped by an anxiety that he can't fix. He's seen how dangerous emotions are - fugitive devices that lead to actions with permanent, irreversible consequences, the very same that are turning Cat into the perfect portrait of lessons unlearned.
(Maybe he wouldn't have been committing this mistake if he'd been able to see the very same in himself.)
It doesn't feel like a kiss. It's too rough, too rushed, too intense and mindless, still his hands are cupping her face and his lips are locked with hers. If he'd struggled to be emotionless before, now every thought and shred of common sense are gone, commanded by that energy he had managed to contain so well. There's no joy or conscience in it, and Bass cann't bring himself to care.]
[ If it weren't for Fox and his ambitions, maybe Cat would have never been like this. She is the sort of person that attaches herself to others with the strength of a barnacle, stubborn and impossible to remove. She soaks in their goals and makes them her own, she craves the lead of others, she- she could think for herself, and she does, given how utterly irreverent she can be to Fox when no one else (except Bass) is looking - but she sees so little importance in herself.
She has always told Fox that he shouldn't get attached. It seems hypocritical considering their relationship invariably goes beyond mere friendship, but she has always treated it, in a manner of speaking, roughly. No matter how many nights she might have spent with him, she has never allowed it to be soft, or meaningful. If he tries to hold her, she wriggles and punches him in the shoulder, she scowls and tells him he's getting soft. In public she is only a faithful subject, never speaking against him, quiet and always frowning. Yet, she doesn't realise that she does not hold herself to the same standard. No matter how hard she pushes him to focus ultimately on anything but herself, she seems to live her life around him. She holds no one else in higher regard, and to say that she loved him would not necessarily be an exaggeration, even if it is by no means in a conventional form.
As Bass turns her around, she almost considers fighting past him, but something in his expression stops her, even though she can't identify what it is. That is what allows Bass to catch her off guard.
The pressure of Bass' mouth against hers surprises her in a way that she has never experienced before. She has always given herself to Fox so readily and with such devotion that the very thought of something like this - even though this is more rough and intense than anything she has ever felt before - with anyone else has never even crossed her mind. Her loyalty is the very specific, blinkered type that keeps her eyes on one thing and one thing only, except something else has just slammed right into her and turned everything upside down. In any other situation, with anyone else, she would probably be finding the nearest blunt object and smashing it into something (no, someone) with all the strength she can muster, but with Bass... there's a pause, where she does nothing. She doesn't try to kiss him back, she stays still as a corpse beneath the weight of his body, her eyes the widest they have ever been. Then something grips her.
With a sudden loss of inhibition she reaches her hands upwards, one gripping Bass' shirt at the shoulder, the other curling around his neck, nails scraping at the nape of his neck as she returns the kiss just as fiercely. The hand on his shoulder yanks him closer, until their hips are pressed together, until there is almost no part of them that isn't touching. ]
[At any other time, Cat's own reaction would be a surprise - an unpleasant one, at that. The sense of loyalty that binds him to Fox and kept the girl out of any such thoughts until now is entirely gone, pushed aside by instinct, forgotten somewhere while his hand moves down to her hip and slides under her right leg, propping her up against the wall and against him. At some point his teeth come into play, brought out by voiceless complaints at the way her nails press against his skin until he moves to grasp another heavy kiss.
Reality seems to shift back into place - almost - when Bass leans away, breathing sharply, eyes locked on Cat's. He asks himself what he's doing and questions, almost alarmed, why she's responding to it, both of their actions striking him as nothing less than unrecognizable.
She doesn't resist the hand under her leg, she responds to teeth with teeth, arching her back towards him, her skin crawling with heat and a previously unknown level of intensity. Fox has never kissed her like this, he has never tried to take control like this, this- it's something else. It's almost surreal. Biting at his lower lip, Cat wishes bitterly that he wouldn't keep his hair so damn short for a moment. There's nothing to bloody well hold onto here. Her fingers close around mostly empty air, much to her irritation. It means that she has to revise what she's used to, change her habitual movements.
There might have been a semblance of understanding and sense present in Cat's mind when when Bass pulls back, but it is firmly trampled by whatever it is that has otherwise taken over her. Her eyes snap open again, and the hand on his neck does not allow him to go very far. She scowls ferociously, her cheeks flushed faintly pink, with both surprise and vague embarrassment, but her eyes are so bright and so determined to stay on his.
Just don't leave me like this, she thinks to herself again. Especially not like this. ]
[Bass lowers his eyes and lets her keep him close, unseeing, though he never allows his muscles to relax. The adrenaline is still in his blood, in the rhythm of his breathing, shoulders tense, voice hushed by something close to a whisper (nowhere near as soft as one) without intonation. His hand slides around her thigh again, his forehead practically against hers.]
What the fuck are we doing.
[He isn't telling her to stop; he doesn't intend to move away. Bass knows he should, but his actions won't follow that thought.]
[ Her voice is - surprisingly - on a similar level to his, and as she speaks she closes her eyes again, exhaling heavily, her body wiring mixed signals through her body. Cat's lips want to find his again, the hand on his shoulder is curling into a fist that she desperately wants to smash into his face, and her heart is beating so hard and fast that she can't tell if it's excitement or some sort of aching fear that she's never before experienced. ]
Don't want to think about it.
[ Just want to do it. Her grip on him doesn't slacken, not for a moment. ]
[Her answer isn't good enough - no answer could be - but it doesn't invite any more questions, either. Instead Bass just looks back at her, his mouth lingering somewhere over her lips, his hand resting on her clothes until he makes a decision. No matter what he chooses, however, it's already too late. He betrayed Fox's trust in so many ways, and what he brings back to his King will either be the truth that will end them or the lie that will haunt him. It's a matter of how far they go, now.
(Don't want to think about it.)
There's barely any more waiting until both hands find her legs, holding the girl up to wrap them around his waist, once again locked in a kiss.]
[ Is it relief she feels flooding her when Bass says nothing else? She can't be sure. The only thing she registers is that Bass' lips are on hers again, that she is complying readily, gripping his body between her thighs. She kisses him back roughly and a little clumsily, both arms now curled around his neck, a soft noise of pleasure (which she would rather deny that she feels) sliding from the back of her throat. Part of her mind is still racing. Why Bass? Why is he doing this to her? Why is he clouding everything that she thought was so clear in her mind? For a moment, she thinks about Fox. Just for a moment, but the thought is drowned by the fact that she just doesn't want Bass to stop.
She breaks the kiss only slightly, biting sharply at his lower lip as she tries to catch her breath, which is now heavy and shallow, her eyes squeezed as tightly shut as she can manage. ]
[He makes a sound, somewhere between a soft grunt and something warmer, leaning into the kiss before his hands let go of her and force his jacket off his shoulders. There's no stopping this, not with them. Their fights aren't over until unavoidable circumstances force them apart; there is no clear winner until one of them has exhausted his or her share. Bass is either too proud or too senseless to ever acknowledge he's had enough, and this won't be any different.]
[ She helps to push the jacket off him, hand slipping down to curl her fingers into his shirt, tugging and pulling at it, feeling at his chest through the fabric. In an ideal world she'd shrug off her jacket too, but sandwiched between Bass and a wall, she settles for trying to unclothe him instead. There is no rational thought involved here, maybe no thought of any kind. It's buried, forgotten instinct; this is happening, therefore this is the response. Nothing else. ]
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You bruise me and they'll ask questions, idiot. [ He should know who "they" are. ] Lay the fuck off.
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I don't know what you're talking about, stranger.
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I thought you wanted me to lay the fuck off.
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[ She keeps smashing her fist against him, wherever she can reach, bristling furiously. He knows, he absolutely knows what she's implying. It's not just to tone down the blows they're exchanging, but to stop calling her "stranger". That hurts and angers her more than any bruise he might give her. ]
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[ Her voice is a little strained as she moves back only to ram her shoulder into his chest again, shoving him backwards with all her might, until she can find something to force him into, something to forcibly connect with. She's going beyond a point where she cares how Bass will retaliate. Hell, she'd even let him make her bleed at this rate. If she could have her way, she'd take his head and slam it into a brick wall, that's how angry she is right now, but she still has conscience enough to realise that probably wouldn't help anything in the long run.
Still, it's a nice idea. ]
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There's blood snaking from his brow when his hand reaches for her throat without warning, foot swinging against her ankles to throw and slam her on the floor. Bass is unprecedentedly forceful about the way he's keeping her down there, one knee on the ground, the other on her chest, hand around her neck.
He pants, wiping the blood from his face.]
What am I supposed to do with you?
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Maybe she trusts him, without thinking to. Or maybe she just doesn't think there's anyone else out there who could come as close to killing her as Bass could. Maybe she thinks she could hold her own against anyone else in the world.
One hand claws at the arm above her neck, nails digging into his skin, the other claws at midair as she tries to force herself up enough to catch Bass' shirt, pull him down, get his own neck closer to her hands. Even now she won't give up so easily. ]
Whatever-- whatever the hell you want.
[ Breathless and muffled.
Come on, she's saying. Do your worst, it's nothing I haven't seen before. ]
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It's not about what they're telling him. He realizes that in the moment: it's what he wants to say to her every time they're reunited, what he wants to do to her when she refuses to fucking listen, despite his efforts to understand and help her keep going.
Come back. She refuses. We'll figure out something else. She refuses. You need to stop before this fucking ruins you. And she refuses.
It's his turn to refuse.]
I don't think I will.
[The smile is completely gone. He exhales, waiting another moment before releasing her with a heavy, quick sigh, back on his feet before she gets the chance to reach for him again. From the way he lets his arms fall to his sides and he turns to walk a few steps away it's plain to see there's no intention to keep this fight going anymore.]
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Cat lies quite still on the ground for a moment, wildly staring upwards as her mind tries to understand exactly what just happened. Why did he just stop? She has felt alive for the first time in weeks and he is ruining it, he's pushing her closer and closer to an edge that she doesn't want to be anywhere near. A snarling noise rises in her throat as she suddenly scrambles to her feet, inelegant and stumbling, her voice high pitched and cracking with outrage as she bounds after him. ]
Hey- what the fuck do you think you're doing? [ The momentum she builds is what she uses when both her palms collide with his back, wanting to provoke any reaction she can. ] Come back here right now- you are not leaving me like this, you bastard.
[ Bass is right. She's not in the right frame of mind, the whole process is driving her insane with all the dead ends and the monotony and the calm. She doesn't belong in Camden, she's pushing herself so far out of her comfort zone that she's losing herself, but above all else, Cat just doesn't want let her kingdom, her king, down. She volunteered because she thought she could succeed, but in failing she is turning manic. All she wants right now is a fight. She wants her blood to pump in her ears and adrenaline to rush through her system. ]
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I don't feel like it, Cat.
[His voice is flat, his tone distant and cold, still breathing back in some of the energy lost during their match. Where there had been the desire to provoke her and keep the fight going more intensely than ever now settles a sour calm. Something in his mind clicked and turned everything upside down when he saw her, challenging him (--he didn't see a challenge, he saw a miserable plea--) with a look that just made him... angry. It's the same anger that manifests in Cat through her outbursts, in a way; the kind that's about to reach the point of no return, leading Bass to gradually shut down until the violence in him simply erupts.]
You can stay here or you can leave with me.
[This is not something he or Fox agreed to, it's not even something he had in mind when he made his way to meet with her for the nth time, but the past few days have riled him up without him quite realizing it, increasingly plagued by the thought of Cat's descent and her blind rejection to his offers to pull her out. He doesn't like what it's doing to Fox, doesn't like what it's doing to Cat, and is only starting to realize what it's doing to him.]
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All she wants is to prove herself. She doesn't have Bass' sheer strength, or Fox's charisma, his effortless leadership abilities. She has whatever brute force her body and her agility will allow her, a knack for survival and an infinite source of determination. She doesn't realise that this enough. She doesn't have to be anything else, but something in her head is convinced that she can be more, for both Fox and Bass, for the kingdom. The sudden change in Bass' character has made her blood run painfully cold and boil to immeasurable heat all at once. ]
How many fucking times do I have to tell you this?! [ Another smash of her fist against his back. She's almost screaming on the last word, but she catches herself, stops and pauses, trying to continue as steadily as she can, but her voice is quivering. ] I'm not leaving until I have something for you- for Fox! For the whole bloody kingdom! Why the hell won't you just believe in me?
[ As soon as she spits the words out she regrets asking, but steels herself resolutely for whatever answer may come. She doesn't really want to know why Bass just wants her to come home, because she still fears that the answer will be "you're not good enough". ]
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Both of them have thought about the consequences of pulling her out, of course, of simply allowing Cat back in the kingdom without an explanation or the admission that their plan had collapsed and the King had allowed his Knight to give up. It had been a dangerous scheme from the start - if not for the kingdom itself, for the lives the people involved had built for themselves up until then. It was Fox's ambition and Cat's cunningness that led them to this situation; all Bass was ever interested in was standing by his leader's side and reinforcing his authority. Nothing else was needed, and now the feeling that he has everything to lose grows with each passing day. Fox isn't aware of that - he can't be - because the reports Bass brings back home never mention what Cat's fruitless infiltration is doing to her. It's better this way, he believes (--believed, up until a moment ago). Better if Fox stays happy, better if Cat does what she wants to, better if he just stays quiet.
(Why the hell won't you just believe in me?)
And then Bass stops.]
You think that's what this is about?
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For a few painful moment she's lost for words, perplexed and confused by the question. She feel so small, so like a child. Cat hasn't felt this way in years, not since she came to London. She feels trapped for the first time since her childhood, in a situation that seems to promise agony no matter what end is achieved. Where others might find this sobering, this is just another maddenning thought to her. Another shove pushing her in the wrong direction. ]
What- what kind of a fucking question is that? It's about Fox- his plans, his goals, it's about helping him succeed, helping him bring down this stupid kingdom, show everyone what he's capable of--
[ Her voice catches in her throat, and she can't think of how to continue. ]
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How can you ask me to believe in you--[his finger presses against his chest repeatedly, volume low still low but his throat tense, right until he's towering over the redhead.]--when I barely even know who the fuck you are anymore?!
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You're full of shit, Bass, did you know that?! [ Where Bass is trying to keep his voice quiet, Cat is near to screaming. ] I'm the exact same- I'm what- I haven't changed, or whatever the fuck you're talking about!
[ But she doesn't sound quite as convinced as she should. ]
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[She could say the same about you, Bass. One minute you want to keep things the way they are and provoke all the frustration out of her, the other you want to leave her with an ultimatum and an unfinished fight.
He shows teeth, still standing over her figure, breathing,]
No, you're not the same. You're pathetic.
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[ Her voice is shrill as she suddenly aims another clumsy punch to his face, before reaching for his neck just he had already done to her. Now more than ever she wishes she was strong enough to truly hurt him, to break and bend him out of shape and vent every molecule of anger out of herself. She's an angry, volatile person, one way or another, but this is a new level. Bass can see right through her, and she hates that. ]
Just shut the fuck up.
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Tell me again, Cat: What am I supposed to do with you?
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Her voice has finally been worn down to a quiet, breathless murmur, but it hasn't lost its edge. ]
I don't know. [ And again: ] Whatever the hell you want.
[ Just don't leave me like this. ]
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Cat's arm is released. Bass turns her around and watches her, searching for a sign of something he can't quite describe in her eyes. Hope, maybe? A secret she's trying to make him understand she can't reveal? Anything that can make sense of this, anything that can help him understand why she's come to this point.
He can't find it.
People never look at Bass and see a contemplative man. It's hard to call him emotional when the most anyone can snatch from him is a provocative smile or a focused glare accentuated by the blood shining on his skin in the heat of battle. Fox - the one man who knows him better than anyone else, the one man to whom Bass owes his entire truthfulness and can call his family in everything but their blood - even he can't always guess what's on his brother's mind. Bass often sees what's on his, but now he wonders if that's only been a reflection of his own concerns.
They'd been the perfect trinity of strength and trust, with their own code of honor and disregard for anyone else's ambition. Fox and Cat were working to extend the reaches of the world that had been created before them while Bass was just content to be in it with them. Now that world seems increasingly more volatile as time goes on, threatening to collapse right in front of him, and he can't seem to do anything to make Cat see that he doesn't want to lose it. Suffice to say his silence is not easily broken, this being no exception - for as much as he's bursting at the seams with the frustration and helplessness, nothing can quite pull the words out of his head.
The quiet stops. The helplessness, the resentment seem to sink in his chest and become something else, and in that moment Cat becomes someone else: still the girl he met years back, but changed by the woman now staring up at him, eyes and mouth shaped by an anxiety that he can't fix. He's seen how dangerous emotions are - fugitive devices that lead to actions with permanent, irreversible consequences, the very same that are turning Cat into the perfect portrait of lessons unlearned.
(Maybe he wouldn't have been committing this mistake if he'd been able to see the very same in himself.)
It doesn't feel like a kiss. It's too rough, too rushed, too intense and mindless, still his hands are cupping her face and his lips are locked with hers. If he'd struggled to be emotionless before, now every thought and shred of common sense are gone, commanded by that energy he had managed to contain so well. There's no joy or conscience in it, and Bass cann't bring himself to care.]
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She has always told Fox that he shouldn't get attached. It seems hypocritical considering their relationship invariably goes beyond mere friendship, but she has always treated it, in a manner of speaking, roughly. No matter how many nights she might have spent with him, she has never allowed it to be soft, or meaningful. If he tries to hold her, she wriggles and punches him in the shoulder, she scowls and tells him he's getting soft. In public she is only a faithful subject, never speaking against him, quiet and always frowning. Yet, she doesn't realise that she does not hold herself to the same standard. No matter how hard she pushes him to focus ultimately on anything but herself, she seems to live her life around him. She holds no one else in higher regard, and to say that she loved him would not necessarily be an exaggeration, even if it is by no means in a conventional form.
As Bass turns her around, she almost considers fighting past him, but something in his expression stops her, even though she can't identify what it is. That is what allows Bass to catch her off guard.
The pressure of Bass' mouth against hers surprises her in a way that she has never experienced before. She has always given herself to Fox so readily and with such devotion that the very thought of something like this - even though this is more rough and intense than anything she has ever felt before - with anyone else has never even crossed her mind. Her loyalty is the very specific, blinkered type that keeps her eyes on one thing and one thing only, except something else has just slammed right into her and turned everything upside down. In any other situation, with anyone else, she would probably be finding the nearest blunt object and smashing it into something (no, someone) with all the strength she can muster, but with Bass... there's a pause, where she does nothing. She doesn't try to kiss him back, she stays still as a corpse beneath the weight of his body, her eyes the widest they have ever been. Then something grips her.
With a sudden loss of inhibition she reaches her hands upwards, one gripping Bass' shirt at the shoulder, the other curling around his neck, nails scraping at the nape of his neck as she returns the kiss just as fiercely. The hand on his shoulder yanks him closer, until their hips are pressed together, until there is almost no part of them that isn't touching. ]
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Reality seems to shift back into place - almost - when Bass leans away, breathing sharply, eyes locked on Cat's. He asks himself what he's doing and questions, almost alarmed, why she's responding to it, both of their actions striking him as nothing less than unrecognizable.
This won't end well.]
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She doesn't resist the hand under her leg, she responds to teeth with teeth, arching her back towards him, her skin crawling with heat and a previously unknown level of intensity. Fox has never kissed her like this, he has never tried to take control like this, this- it's something else. It's almost surreal. Biting at his lower lip, Cat wishes bitterly that he wouldn't keep his hair so damn short for a moment. There's nothing to bloody well hold onto here. Her fingers close around mostly empty air, much to her irritation. It means that she has to revise what she's used to, change her habitual movements.
There might have been a semblance of understanding and sense present in Cat's mind when when Bass pulls back, but it is firmly trampled by whatever it is that has otherwise taken over her. Her eyes snap open again, and the hand on his neck does not allow him to go very far. She scowls ferociously, her cheeks flushed faintly pink, with both surprise and vague embarrassment, but her eyes are so bright and so determined to stay on his.
Just don't leave me like this, she thinks to herself again. Especially not like this. ]
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What the fuck are we doing.
[He isn't telling her to stop; he doesn't intend to move away. Bass knows he should, but his actions won't follow that thought.]
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[ Her voice is - surprisingly - on a similar level to his, and as she speaks she closes her eyes again, exhaling heavily, her body wiring mixed signals through her body. Cat's lips want to find his again, the hand on his shoulder is curling into a fist that she desperately wants to smash into his face, and her heart is beating so hard and fast that she can't tell if it's excitement or some sort of aching fear that she's never before experienced. ]
Don't want to think about it.
[ Just want to do it. Her grip on him doesn't slacken, not for a moment. ]
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(Don't want to think about it.)
There's barely any more waiting until both hands find her legs, holding the girl up to wrap them around his waist, once again locked in a kiss.]
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She breaks the kiss only slightly, biting sharply at his lower lip as she tries to catch her breath, which is now heavy and shallow, her eyes squeezed as tightly shut as she can manage. ]
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