4138/Excuses

Excuses
Date of Scene:	23 March 2018
Location:	Unkonwn
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Daredevil, Elektra

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Daredevil has posed:
Crouching above the Hellhouse, Daredevil listens to the talk inside, in particular, he sweeps through the din of clinking glass, swallowed liquids, bad music and chatter to find the voice of Turk Barret, thief, low-life, but, a knowledgeable and talkative one.

"Man, whatchu want? I'm drinking here," he can hear Turk grouse from the bar below.

"I got this girl," comes a furtive voice, "I want to sell her."

There's an exhale from Turk. "You're talking to the wrong man, on that, I'm out of that business. Have been since I saw the Devil," he says before adding. "Damn near lit his ass up though."

Matt smiled.

"Tried seeing the Wing Kong, they said no, and Kusanagi downtown, he's dead."

Turk's reply mirrors' Matt's thoughts. "What?"

"Yeah, head cut right off"

"Man, and you bring this mess to me?! Get your ass out of here man. You just devil bait this point."

Matt pulled back from his senses, he'd heard enough, and when the furtive would-be human trafficker makes his exit, he has his own meeting with the Devil. It doesn't go well for him.

Later...

The would-be slaver gave it all up, his girl, details of Kusanagi's organization and how he died, killed, in his own home, surrounded by his bodyguards. Matt left the slaver, broken but breathing after he cut the girl loose. The description of the murder had a familiar ring to it, but Matt wasn't sure until he'd snuck into the scene, her scent was there, along with the blood. Faint, but unmissable to him.

"Elektra," he breathes, then making a quick check to make sure she left nothing any one else could trace her by, he slips back into the night leaping and swinging from buildings while cursing her name.

He knew where his course would take him, even if he denied it on the way, but eventually, he made his way to Croft Centre on the East Side, and with the care and stealth that belied the fury and confusion, he slips into Elektra's apartment, letting his senses acquaint him with the surroundings again.

Elektra has posed:
As ordered, and with reluctance, Elektra was taking it easy. She'd made the minimal appearances in her office, and at the Hugo Building site. Mostly to sign papers and give dry looks at a Board meeting she needed to make an appearance at. But since the altercation with Kusanagi, she'd not had to have any recent pointed discussions with any factions of The Hand.

At first glance, at least, the transition to the new order of things seemed to be moving along smoothly with the death of Kusanagi and his cadre. She knew that she couldn't shut down all the operations underneath her, but she could tailor them to things a little less tawdry.

She was, all things considered, not enjoying her enforced time off. Even if she hadn't been patrolling as often in the evenings, the very fact that she had been ordered not to - and had chosen to follow those orders - had made the prospect of hunting alleyways and rooftops irresistable, and thus she found herself both bored and irritable. But confined to quarters, that one a self-issued command, she had the freedom of cutting loose a little, and was on her almost unheard of third glass of wine.

The lights were low, only one ambient corner lamp set on the lowest setting. Curtains drawn such that the floor to ceiling windows gave a view of the city. Elektra reclined ever so carefully on her couch, regarding the view.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt can't help himself to a moment of voyeuristic indulgence keeping Elektra in the center of his attention as he moved through her apartment. She was a woman who rarely gave anything away, so it was rare to find her in an unguarded moment. Or at least he thinks this is what this is. As best as he can tell, she hasn't noticed him, no change in breathing or heartbeat he could detect, but that was the catch to that statement, that he could detect. Elektra had always been good at that sort of control.

He stops trying to hide himself as he steps closer, nostrils flaring briefly, before he says, "Smells expensive, celebrating something?" he asks.

Elektra has posed:
Elektra really should have noticed him a lot sooner than she did. It was a measure of her placidity in her own home and faith that she was safe there and the location not (yet) known to anyone from The Hand that she hadn't noticed Matt before he made it to the outskirts of the spacious living area.

The two and a half glasses of wine probably didn't hurt, either.

"You should know how rude it is to enter without knocking, Matthew. There are glasses in the kitchen."

Daredevil has posed:
Matt steps more fully into the light, he's dressed in the suit, horns and all. He offers one of those tight, Matt smiles, "True, but I would have thought you'd have a wall of ninjas to keep out anyone that rude. Missed the workout," he says the joke is dry tones. What follows it is more serious, "You killed a man Elektra, I don't feel like drinking," And at least for the duration of those words old Matt is back, hard and judgemental.

Elektra has posed:
"So, it's going to be that, is it?" Elektra very carefully sets her glass down, and just as carefully eases herself into a sitting position where she can eyeball Matt with a very dry look. "I thought we'd agreed we were neither going to be what the other wanted, Matthew. Or did I miss the note of goodbye the last time you were here?"

She reaches for her glass again. Again with that precise care of movement.

"You don't come into my private home and judge me for something you know nothing about, Matthew. Or perhaps you'd prefer I let him go and his little slave trade of young girls who should be playing jump rope and feeding dolls go unabated, or worse, underground."

"As for a wall of ninjas, this is my home. I'd prefer to keep that portion of my life where it belongs - far away from here."

Daredevil has posed:
Elektra's words have him on the back foot. Why was he here? To bring her in? That would put the police in danger. To kill her? That was laughable. To scold her? That was poor retribution for a stolen life. There were other options, ones he wasn't letting himself think about but he pushes them aside seizing on how carefully she moved. "You're injured," he says as he moves to crouch next to where she sits on the sofa.

"And I didn't forget," he says regretfully."Though I wondered if you'd missed that note yourself, after how things went at Josie's."

Elektra could definitely turn a phrase, he knew what Kusanagi did, but to hear it put that way made hot rage shoot through him. "So, that's why you did it? Because of the girls?" he could understand it, he might not be able to condone it, but he could understand it.

"Your little refuge," he says of the place. A refuge he invaded for reasons he still hadn't put words to.

Elektra has posed:
Of course Elektra didn't know what was running through Matt's mind. She expected it was what it seemed at face value: him appearing here to chastize her for the mess she'd left behind as a message to the rest of The Hand who thought they could flaunt her rules.

She was tired and sore. More sore than she'd care to admit. Claire had done a good job in stitching her up, but the fact was time was needed to heal, and Elektra hadn't had but a day of that so far.

"After what happened at Josie's? You mean that hand on your lap?" Elektra pauses with her glass of wine halfway to her lips. "Don't worry, Matthew, your little.. friend.. couldn't see that. And it's not like there's any real future between us, is there?"

It cut like a knife to say that, but she said it anyway: No. Real. Future.

What Matthew couldn't know is that she said it to remind herself of that fact. That as much as she wished otherwise, the two of them pining away for one another only broke their hearts, and worse, put Matthew in danger. If she had a choice to make, it was a simple one, and one that would guarantee his safety if she could at all manage it.

There'd been more than one reason she'd wanted him to take the pro-bono arrangement, and ensuring he didn't have to risk his life was on that list.

"Kusanagi thought he could flaunt my rules in front of my face. I might have been able to stomach full grown women, but little girls? Never. I have simple rules, and no children is one of them. As for injured? No. Merely stiff after the demonstration."

Of course she lies. And, of course, he knows it.

Daredevil has posed:
No. Real. Future. Those words felt like a slap in the face, he turns from her, like he was slapped, his steps only having taken him half way around the sofa. He walks towards the soothing sounds of the city that came through the tall windows that made up the outer wall of the room. "I know," he says quietly, regretfully. He turns back around. "I just thought-" he begins but cuts himself off, it was clear where she stood on this, what he thought didn't matter.

"Not that it's your business, but Claire's not that sort of friend, but she did see, I believe she said, 'that's not what broken up looks like'. So, if we're over, what was that? I thought we were done torturing each other when the files stopped."

Matt was at war with himself, part of him knew if it was over, really over, while it hurt it would be easier, but another, part a much larger and louder part fought against that notion tooth and nail. The battle in him left him feeling ill, but he kept his features schooled, with only the faintest hint of that struggle showing in the tensing of his jaw.

It was easier to ignore Kusanagi than address him, and confront the truth of that act, he settles on a simple, "I understand," it was a true enough even if left a lot out. "Any even if I couldn't hear your heartbeat, I can tell you're hurt. Was it Kusanagi?" he asks, moving closer to her again, but not yet kneeling beside the couch with the intent of inspecting it..

Elektra has posed:
Elektra could read the pained disappointment from Matthew - only what was it he expected her to do? Expect them to do?

"You just thought, what? That we could pretend things were different? I can't walk in your world, Matthew, and you won't walk in mine. What does that leave us?"

Her words are soft, but no less stoic for that. Except for the faintest flutter of her heartbeat as she asks what that leaves them, Elektra having no way to hide that nascent hope within herself that she's still trying to find a way to kill off as painlessly as possible, knowing that like most wounds you have to yank the bandage in one foul sweep, not tug it gently as they keep insisting, as though their pain might somehow absolve them of the rest of their lives.

"Not that kind of friend?" Elektra's voice carries a huff of disbelief. "She likes you, Matthew. Maybe you should look at her that way. But if you must know, I didn't do anything she didn't ask for." Which might be the same as Elektra admitting, despite her seeming offer of his taking something better for him than she was, that she was jealous of the other woman. A small, cold victory for him if he choses to see it that way.

His question about how she got her injury is brushed aside with a chill, "Does it matter how I was injured? Have you finished what you've come for, Matthew? I hear you. You're disappointed in me yet again. That's old news."

Daredevil has posed:
Matt wasn't sure what he came for, he just saw this tenuous connection between his world and hers and he seized on it and followed where it led. Plans, he hadn't gotten to plans yet. Though her questions make him examine his intent, and so even as he hears that flutter in her chest, he says, "Yes or at the very least see you, see that you were safe."

He turns away again, that admission was like he dropping of his guard, it opened him up, and if he was going to get clocked for it he didn't want to her to see how it landed.

Remembered his bitter joke about self-flagellation and not being that sort of Catholic from the last time he was here, but yet neither of them seemed to be able to put down the whip. Or at least, Matt found it difficult.

Matt didn't touch on what Claire might or might not feel for him, which was telling in its own right, but the notion of Elektra pushing him towards her earns a bitter laugh, "Really? You're going to tell me who I should date now? And how exactly did she ask for any of that?" he says hands resting on his hips. He knew, but he wanted to hear her say it.

"Maybe it doesn't and yes, I'm disappointed, but Elektra, that's not why I came to see you," he says in response to her final jab.

Elektra has posed:
"And if I am suggesting you should date her, what of it?" Elektra's words are almost a challenge in and of themselves, refusing to address how Claire had asked for it.

She takes a long swallow from her wineglass, nearly draining it with total disrespect for the vintage within the glass.

"You came. You saw. I'm fine. You can run off now and rest assured you did your duty, Matthew." Her words both dry and carrying those dismissive notes again as she says his name. Not bothering to tell him that 'safe' was relative, and that she was far from it. Let him have his illusions if he hadn't already guessed that about her life.

"This conversation is boring. I really think you should go now."

Daredevil has posed:
Matt exhales a laugh, "Well besides you not meaning it? Where do I begin?" he asks, his words just as much of a challenge as hers, and he turns around to say. It seemed they had moved on to their usual death of a thousand cuts routine rather than the heavy body blows he'd left himself open to a minute ago.

The way she slammed that wine down told him was rattled despite the ice in the words that came after. "Bullshit," he answers about her being safe, though he knew wading into those waters was dangerous but he was willing to.

However the chill of her dismissal seeps in past his concern, he flinches at it turning again considering her request. He lets out a sigh. "If that's what you want, then, fine, it's what we agreed on."

He pauses though, looking back before he makes any further moves to depart. "I do care though, Elektra, whatever this is between us. I care."