5637/Tourney/Black Sky: There's No Time For Us

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Tourney/Black Sky: There's No Time For Us
Date of Scene: 24 October 2018
Location: Kairos Island
Synopsis: Elektra takes Matt to her dojo to say goodbye.
Cast of Characters: Elektra, Daredevil
Tinyplot: Tourney
Tinyplot2: Black Sky


Elektra has posed:
~There's no time for us
There's no place for us
What is this thing that builds our dreams,
Yet slips away from us?~

The Tournament was over.

All that remained was for the guests to wake on the morrow, pack their things, and see themselves from the island - courtesy of the same ship that had brought them there.

It was, Elektra reflected, a good weekend. Under different circumstances, she'd have been more than pleased with herself. She'd held an international tournament of skill, with no small number of folks who could rightly be considered, if not mortal enemies, at the very least, enemies.

Other than the most minor of altercations, the guests had respected one another and the venue. There had been no turf wars. No calling outs. No throwdowns that exploded into chaos. The challenges that were issued were honourable.

Even she had had several of those.

Elektra had learned a lot from each fight, including some things she wished she'd known before this. Things that might have swayed decisions, or set different plans in motion. Things, she told herself with a small inward sigh, that would likely only have postponed the inevitable for a short while.

The faith that some had placed in her, Elektra believed, was misplaced. She wasn't of any goodness or light. Stick may have raised her to the Chaste, but he'd been careful not to leave any compunctions or concerns about the killing she would have to do. He'd considered emotions a weakness; when she'd fallen in love with Matthew, her Master had issued an ultimatum that she'd refused.

An ultimatum that had bought her nothing; Matt had refused her as well.

All to culminate in this weekend. This weekend that had now drawn to a close but for a single evening, and plans she'd set inexorably in motion.

Plans that had her seeking out Matthew. She'd earned these hours with him. Madame Gao and the Hand be damned.

There was nothing they could do to her anymore.

Tonight was hers, and hers alone.

Daredevil has posed:
The weekend had left Matt exhausted. Not that so much the fights, he saw more violence on an average night out as Daredevil, no, what wore him down was living under a sword of Damocles by proxy. He knew what would happen this weekend, but he didnâ??t know the time or the method. So he waited, and waited, afraid to ask, afraid to know. Now time was short and the moment he dreaded was growing near.

But when?

Mattâ??s room in the villa was spacious, and well appointed, with a balcony that looked out over the sea. The view was wasted on him, but he could appreciate the salt breezes, the sounds the waves made as the rolled against the sandy shore. He loved his city, but he could get used to this. The sounds and smells calmed him, not enough to sleep, but it made things easier. Drinking in the sounds and smells, Matt is perched on the railing of the balcony. Feet dangling over into the open space below. Heâ??d done the same countless times before back home, and doing it now made the unfamiliar, familiar and what was coming a sliver less devastating.

It wasnâ??t much, but it was what he had.

Elektra has posed:
Elektra had expected to find Matthew on the beach. When he wasn't there, she takes a less direct route back up towards the villa. The guests might need the path, but this had been her childhood home away from home, before her father had died - Elektra didn't need any paths.

In some ways, if you ever wanted to understand the woman, this was the place to begin.

So it is that she steps from the muted lights and fires upon the beach, slowly burning down, guests not having availed themselves of the final evening in such a way, and moved among the shadows, coming up to the villa, as it happens, beneath Matt's room.

Of course Elektra knew it was his room; it was why she'd chosen this route. If he wasn't here, she had other places she could look, but she suspected if the beach didn't hold him in anger or silence, that he may well have removed himself to the one place he could guarantee he'd have no disturbances: his room.

And, it seems, she was right.

For a moment, she pauses beneath that balcony, regarding him. She has no doubt he already knows she's there. Still, she likes the conceit of believing that she can regard him in silence and without being caught. His posture, while lingering on defeated, draws a smallness of smile to her lips.

He was still the same Matthew. She was so going to miss him.

Elektra waits, letting him choose the moment. It feels the very least she can do.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt catches her scent first, carried to him on the breeze, thereâ??s little scent to catch really but whatâ??s there is distinctive and tinged with the faint odor of sweat and blood. The sound of her footsteps on the sand come next, then the steady beat of her heart. He lets himself get lost in those sounds as they grow closer until they echo beneath his dangling feet. He can feel her presence there, aware of the shape of her, but itâ??s those sounds that mark her as who she is.

He rolls backwards off the railing, vaulting a little so he lands on his feet. â??Coming up?â?? he asks, stepping back to the railing. He doesnâ??t insult her by extending a hand or anything of that sort, he simply crosses his arms and waits.

Elektra has posed:
The smile upon her lips flutters from a half-born thing into reality.

"I suppose. Though it really depends on whether or not you want to see something."

Elektra's words are a tease, and she knows it. Even now, she remains herself. "Your choice, though."

Daredevil has posed:
The tease takes him back to their college years, how she would goad him on to some wild stunt, only to have him goad her in turn. It had been a beautiful mess and as close to living without a care in the world as Matt had ever come. He missed it. He'd hoped to recapture it here, but things kept getting in the way.

Though there was nothing in the way now but the railing.

Matt vaults it easily, dropping to the ground in a crouch. "We both know I really didn't have a choice," he says with a smile. "What did you want me to 'see'?" he asks stepping close to her, gloved hand resting on her arm.

Elektra has posed:
Elektra laughs softly, knowing that she's won even before his vault lands him next to her.

"Oh, just a little place I thought you might like to see. Somewhere I kept from the maddening crowd." She reaches out and takes Matthew's hand. "It's a bit of a trek. Not so much far as steep and off the beaten track. Think you're up to it?"

As she speaks, she leads him around towards the back of the villa, to a spot in the trees that does not have an obvious break in the treeline until you're right up against it, where an angled cut marks through them, and cuts back again, leading to a small path that wends its way down into the ravine.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt takes her hand and gives it a squeeze. "Hrm, I don't know, not sure I'm any good at climbing, and my balance sucks," he says teasing her.

He lets himself be led, with what senses he didn't need to find his footing focused on Elektra, trying to burn her into his memory.

The ravine is noted and earns a comment, "If you're bringing me out here to hide a body..." he teases again, a faint grin on his lips.It seemed the sort of place one either went to get away from it all or to quietly execute someone without waking the guests. He figured the former but it was too easy to tease about the latter.

Elektra has posed:
"Really, Matthew? You think that's why I told you or took your hand?" Her chuckle is soft and sultry. "I know very well what you're capable of."

Notably, she's calling him Matthew again. Not Michael.

Their path leads down into the ravine bottom where things level out. From above, the tree canopy hides much of the cleared spaces that open up past them. And there, nestled into a nook of the ravine, is a small, private dojo, which she leads him into, letting go of his hand once they've entered.

She begins the process of lighting candles and incense to each of the elements, placed in shrines about the room, letting him find his own way about the small space.

Daredevil has posed:
A reply jumps to mind, one that pointed out when she took him to kill a man all those years ago, she'd had him carry her across the threshold. Or had he been the one to do that, he wasn't sure. Either way, he didn't detect anything like that tonight, so his suspicious words were all for show.

He's glad to hear his own name from her lips though, even if he pauses for a heartbeat to be sure no one could hear. There was nobody, but then, Matt had gone to great pains to keep his identity secret, you had to look no further than the places his mask had rubbed his skin raw, for being worn for days on end. He didn't take it off even when he slept. There were too many people here that might come looking to see it who was behind the mask.

The dojo, when it enters the range of his senses comes a surprise. He could feel its simple symmetry, the harmonious nature of it's eastern design. His lips quirk into something of a smile. Not so much for the dojo but for what it spoke to, Elektra's youth, her father's love, parts of her he didn't see often.

He follows her inside, standing by the still open door while she lights the candles not wanting to disturb the ritual.

Elektra has posed:
When she is done with the candles, much as she had the night before, Elektra makes her way to the middle of the dojo and kneels, dropping easily into the position, limbs at the ready, but loose, while she sets her body and mind to a single purpose and centers herself.

"My father built this place," she tells him, though he like has guessed. Her eyes remaining closed as she breaks her meditation with soft words. "The arts were the one thing that seemed to soothe me as a child. I was restless even then. He thought the discipline would do me good. When I fell in love with them, he build this for me."

And had been murdered not so very long after, leaving her with too few memories of the place, but enough to have fallen in love with it. Deeper, even, than she had with Kairos itself.

"You took me to Fogwells. I thought you should see here."

Daredevil has posed:
When Elektra kneels, Matt takes one last scan of the world beyond the dojo with his senses, then draws the door closed.Then, with relief, he takes off his mask, rubbing the places where it'd left his face marked by its presence. He sets it quietly on the floor, then, pulls off his boots, before he walks quietly across the mats, to stand behind Elektra.

Her meditation tells him as much about this place as her words, he's rarely seen her this calm, and that says much about this place. He kneels beside her. He might not be able to see it, but he could appreciate it's symmetry, it's quietude and the effect it had on Elektra. She deserved peace.

The comparison to Fogwell's was apt. While his father hadn't built the old gym, it was deeply tied to his memory. More than his grave, Fogwell's was where Matt went to be with his old man, to feel his presence, to talk to him sometimes. It was a sacred place, and that he'd taken Elektra there mere weeks after meeting her, spoke much to how quickly he'd come to trust her.

"Thank you," he says turning his head in her direction. "It's beautiful," he says trusting she'd know how he might perceive the place.

Elektra has posed:
"It is, isn't it?" she agrees, eyes still closed, but her awareness keenly focused on the fact of his nearness. The sounds around her telling her not only that he's removed his mask, but that he's joined her in kneeling. "It's one of the few places I am truly going to miss."

"I wanted you to see it," she continues. "To appreciate it as I have."

Daredevil has posed:
"It is," Matt confirms his senses leaving the dojo and focusing on Elektra now. "I can imagine. If it were me-" he leaves off, they both know what was meant to happen. "I'd feel the same about Fogwell's."

"I think I do," he says, of the place, of understanding what it's value was for her. "And I'm glad you've shown it to me."

He tugs off his right glove, laying on the floor in front of him and he reaches for Elektra's hand. "Thank you," he says.

Elektra has posed:
Elektra's eyes open as the glove is removed, and she turns her head just enough to catch him in the periphery of her vision, her own hand reaching out to his. It's such a simple gesture at this juncture. So very different from how they began their understanding of one another.

"I wasn't sure if you'd want to spar. It isn't necessary, though. But there is a certain synchronicity to the thought."

Her fingers twine with his, then release. But only to allow her to move her position so that she is kneeling facing him.

"I want you to know all that you've done for me. You were the unexpected in my life, Matthew." She swallows back words that only repeat laments they've made before. Arguments that neither could win. They weren't necessary anymore.

"You made me a better person for knowing you. I don't know if I ever thanked you for that."

Daredevil has posed:
The touch of his hand to hers is a simple gesture but welcome. For too much of this weekend he'd felt like he had been there but distant like there was a pane of glass between them, the simple act of touching her, gave him a sense of relief.

"I could take a swing at you," he offers with a smile, as she mentions sparring. It wasn't off the table. She was right there was a synchronicity to it. He makes no move to start things though. He only shifts with her so they're face to face his aimless eyes turned in her direction.

"You were definitely the unexpected in mine, Elektra. I never imagined I'd meet someone like you."

He takes a breath, "And you're welcome. Believe it or not, you've made me better too, at least made me see who I really am."

He leans forward, hand proceeding him to touch her face before he seeks her lips out for a kiss. "Thank you for that," he murmurs.

Elektra has posed:
Elektra, too, had felt that wall. She'd been so close to him, and freedom, and yet so very far away. Playing a dangerous game here. Too much not caring and her plans would be tipped off. Not enough ease, and that, too, would be looked at askance.

She'd erred on the side of less caution. Sill, Matthew was a known entity. To have gone to him, to have gone to him fully before now, would have been the signal that Madame Gao was looking for. The match that would light a fire Elektra couldn't allow to be lit.

This ended this weekend, but on her terms. Without casualty to guests. Without the possibility of either side taking her for their own. And as much as she knew Matthew wanted to drag her back from the precipice of her actions, she appreciated that he hadn't. That he'd respected her choice. This one last sacrifice she could make.

In some ways she wondered if Stick appreciated it too. Saw that out of the jumbled mess of what had become, that possibly she'd found the only solution to this endless war. Had become exactly the weapon that was needed.

"Your friend, Danny, and our old master, Dragon, they wanted me to know you were fond of me. I think they thought they could sway me from the Hand." She smiles, taking Matt's hand and kissing the palm. "The Immortal iron Fist sat on the beach and told me that together, you and I were a force." She doesn't say for good, even if that is what he'd said. There was no sense bringing up possibilities that were too far gone to be real anymore. There was no way out of the choices she'd made. Still, she thought Matt might appreciate the efforts on the part of his friends.

"When the time comes, Matthew, take what help you may. Offers will come from unexpected sources. Don't discount what's on the outside, or the stories of their pasts." Much as he'd done with her, to their sorrow (and in truth, she'd played a part in that, and bore just as much guilt). "I think you may also wish to speak to the one known as Deadpool. Consider it a hunch."

She kisses his palm again, then leans in to repeat the gesture with his lips.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt knew the risks of breaking the glass wall between them before it was time. He also knew that this meant what was planned would be happening soon. It made his stomach clench and feel sick.

He understood her sacrifice, respected it, even if the others thought he was crazy. Well, except for Stick, but sacrifices cam easy to the old man. He still didn't like it though, still made him question right and wrong. Was failing to stop her death as good as striking the killing blow himself? Did her death removing the threat from Claire, Foggy, Karen and others make it all somehow moral? The Bible was clear about suicide?But then the church was built on an act of martyrdom. It was all unclear.

He buries it all deep in the sick, unsettled pit of his stomach before making himself smile. "We are a force," he says. "Just a shame we didn't get to do as much as we'd have liked together," meaning in costumes, in the streets and alleys, but also elsewhere in their lives."And they're good men," he says of Danny and Dragon. And they were the cloistered ones. Each innocent in their own way believing the philosophies of the their training truly applied to the world around them. Matt didn't see it, not now.

"I've already started talking to people, but Deadpool?" he didn't think the foul mouthed mercenary would fight for their cause. "I'll talk to him," he says before his lips are claimed.

He returns the kiss with a slow, but desperate need, tasting her lips as his hand cups her face. He savours it, then breaks away, putting a smile on his face to put some distance from his turbulent thoughts. "I missed this," he says of the kiss and the time alone.

Elektra has posed:
"I've missed this too," Elektra admits, not without irony. They'd never had much of this. Even in the first full flush of their relationship, there hadn't been much of this, and after that, there were too many barriers between and around them for the pair to meet fully.

And now, on the eve of her death, it all seemed so pointless.

"We still have tonight," she says with a grin that belies all that she's feeling inside. "Shall we make it something of old times sakes?"

Reaching over and patting his knee, she stands. "Come. If I recall, we argued. You brought me to Fogwells, for no reason that I can think of other than to let me in on your secret, and then you proceeded to pretend you were nothing but the blind man the world sees you for. Mmm? Wasn't that how it went?"

~There's no chance for us
It's all decided for us
This world has only one sweet moment set aside for us~

Daredevil has posed:
Matt can't help but feel they wasted so much time, the things that kept them apart before which seemed so valid then, seemed to just cease to be important. Oh they had their differences still, but with so little time left, why care?

Matt too, wears a smile he doesn't feel as he nods. "I'm game," he says of making something of this night, though the false smile becomes something more genuine when she brings up that time at Fogwell's.

Matt pops to his feet in an instant, most definitely showing off. "Something like that," Matt says still grinning. "Though if you brought me out here to tell me you can see, trust me sweetheart, I already know." There's laughter in those words, even as he takes a swing at her. It's a testing blow, one he knows she can duck or block with ease.

Elektra has posed:
"I'd considered the blind angle," Elektra murmurs with amusement. "Though maybe more appropriate in my case to pretend I'm just a girl and don't know how to fight."

That first swing, her laugh echoes with his, and she easy avoids it by drawing her upper body back at the waist, leaning back, and once the swing is complete, doing an easy walkover so that she's upright again, albeit a couple of feet back from where she was.

"Or is this the point where you insist I should hit you back?"

She moves in a slow easy circle about him, keeping him always in her sights, forcing him to follow suit, but making no move to attack.

"I wondered, that day, how far you'd let me push you."

Daredevil has posed:
There's a bark of a laugh from Matt. "Not just a girl. A spoiled rich one at that," he counters. There is a nod and the raise of his eyebrows when she does the walk over.

"But clearly one who knows her gymnastics."

Matt twists into one of those spinning leaps to close the distance, landing before he flicks a kick up and high at her head.

"I think the words you used was, 'get me'," he says, still grinning.

"And were you happy with the result?" he asks throwing another punch this one faster, more direct.

"And Elektra," he says. "Get me."

Elektra has posed:
"So that's how it is," Elektra says softly, with a hint of a grin, even as she ducks out of the way of the punch, swinging round with a kick aimed at his head. "You never did get the hang of this."

"And a spoiled rich girl? When did I ever act the spoiled rich girl," she asks, as though her life weren't peppered with petulance and boredom, the hallmarks of the same. Even if one could argue that the money itself had never mattered to her, and she was just as happy (if not more so) with plain fare and simple company than the pretentiousness of the crowd to which her fortune entitled her.

"I'll have to let you know if I was happy with the result. I seem to have forgotten how it went." Clearly teasing him. "Something about you losing?"

As her kick swings round, her body circles first, head low in an arc towards the dojo floor, and then back to upright, prepared to throw strikes back at him. All while expecting him to block and retaliate.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt is grinning broadly when he leans back out of the way of Elektra's kick.

"Yep, that's how it is," Matt replies still grinning. "And I seem to be doing okay."

He counters with a kick of his own, but Elektra's twisting body is well clear of it. They were still dancing. Even so, it brought up the old thrill he'd felt with her in college and that helped soothed the raw tight knot in his gut.

"Just a little bit," Matt says. "Not everyone gets their own dojo built for them," he points out, but there's no bite to the words. He knew Elektra wasn't one for the money or the kind of company that brought with it. He'd seen that the first time they'd met and had said so.

"The first round maybe," he says of losing that sparring match years ago.

When Elektra comes up from the twist, he's waiting blocking her strikes before diving at her in a tackle. It was a crude move, lacking finesse, but thinking about what he'd first said to Elektra brought it to mind; the one thing she lacked for all her money was the unexpected.

Elektra has posed:
"You *think* you're doing okay," Elektra counters. "And I was a child. It was a gift. My father thought it would please me. Help me focus." He'd been right on both those counts. Elektra had thrown herself into her studies with fervour and focus. "But maybe a little bit spoiled," she admits with a grin, coming up from the kick, and, as she expected, needing to counter his attack in return.

He's right, though, she's not prepared for the bum rush, arms up ready to block blows that aren't given, leaving her striking out at him with punches while he'd tackled her lower in the chest.

"Interesting move. Where did you learn that?' Her voice is initially an exhale of surprised breath, followed by a clasping of her hands and a full force hit on the back of his shoulders over his head. Barring that breaking his tackle, she's nothing against using his body weight against him and taking them both down in a tumble.

Daredevil has posed:
"Well glad you can admit it," Matt says with a laugh. Though he does add, "The dojo may have been a bad example."

He gives her that much before he rushes at her, arms wrapping his arms around her middle. The fist strike to the back of his neck gets an 'oof' from Matt, knocking the wind out of him. He tumbles, but tries to cling to Elektra as she brings them both to the ground with a thud.

He let's go then trying to roll to the side, laughing again. "Jimmy MacMillan, in the first grade," he says of the clumsy tackle. "He tried to take my lunch money."

Elektra has posed:
"The dojo was a bad example," Elektra agrees, going down with him, and likewise rolling away. She's not laughing, but she's very obviously amused.

"I seem to recall being smugger the first time we did this." She rises and waits from him to get up as well. "Maybe it was having a ring. Or maybe it was knowing I was going to win."

Then she does laugh. "Were you expecting my lunch money?"

Daredevil has posed:
There's a shrug from Matt, he'd said all he had on the dojo. "This island however?" he teases before vaulting to his feet.

"I sort of thought our second round was a tie back then," Matt says knowing full well they never got to a second round. "But you were definitely more smug."

And speaking of smug, Matt says, "No, but I'll take a kiss," he says coming forward to claim exactly that. Provided he doesn't get socked in the jaw on the way.

Elektra has posed:
"Oh, no," Elektra says with a smug smile, "I definitely won the second round."

There is no sock to the jaw. Not unless you count the soft touch of a carefully balled up fist to the edge of his jaw before her fingers unfurl and brush along that very spot.

"The island was my home. It's all I have left of a time before I became what I am." It's not even a place she gets to visit all that often. Less so now that she rules the Hand. "I'm glad you got to see it." The 'before' is implied.

Her lips are easily claimed for a kiss. A long, lingering kiss that has her sighing when it breaks. "Would you like to win this time?"

Daredevil has posed:
"We'll have to agree to disagree," Matt counters gamely, before leaning into her hand.

"I'm glad too," he says. "It's quite spot, I don't think I've ever heard you as fond of a place." It always seemed to Matt that most places were interchangeable to Elektra, minor distractions. Here, the island, the villa and the dojo seemed almost sacred. It was heartening to see in a way, a layer to the woman he loved that he hadn't expected.

Matt takes his time with the kiss, savouring it, before it breaks and he smiles. "Still not admitting to not winning last time, but sure," he answers with a grin.

Elektra has posed:
"You so lost," she tells him. "I got you. And you broke your secret. I think we both know how it went."

Her hand travels down the flat of his chest, then moves to take his hand. "In the spring, the grounds are filled with wildflowers. All about the villa, they bloom. But the daffodils are always first. Now you know."

Her fingers twine with his, then release. "It seems a shame to waste the evening. Shall we?"

And without waiting for an answer, Elektra begins to blow out the candles that are lit, one by -one, following a set path, and bowing before each brazier of incense with a small inclination of head, and murmurs of wound that might be words, or may only be exhales, until she has circled the room and come back to him again.

"It's time, Matthew."

~But touch my tears, with your lips
Touch my world, with your fingertips.
And we can have forever
And we can love forever
Forever is our today~

(Queen: Who Wants to Live Forever)
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Jtpf8N5IDE)