The Third Temptation of Paris [Cinder]

Cady usually woke up to a note in her hand, with cute instructions scrawled across the paper. Always the same hand-writing with new advice and tid-bits of information every day. Yesterday had been there's a packaged victim in the living room, try not to make a mess. Today was different though. Arcadia woke to find a note clutched in the wrong hand. She instinctively reached for her knife, which slept in its sheath next to Cady. With one hand, she unfolded the note and read it. The hand writing was suspiciously similar to that of her usual notes, but there were subtle differences in the way that this new person dotted the i in her name. Besides that, everything was way too perfect, suspiciously so. Somebody was setting her up.

Her mouth pulled down and her eye-brows rose in a mixture of confusion and suspicion that had fought their ways onto her face. There was an address and the word Alone scrawled across the page in small, neat letters. 'Never a dull day...' she thought sourly. Cady had been hoping to go down a seedy gym and watch some of the local, District One Careers in action. She was still curious about their fighting styles after watching Cadia and Stark beat down victim after victim. Arcadia flipped the note over to find she had missed part of the message, another mistake on the seemingly perfect note--Cady had to say, she was not impressed by whoever had sent the note. You have less than an hour, Ms. London. Her blue eyes narrowed.

First thing she did was get dressed. The good thing about being based in a District that trained for the Hunger Games was that walking around in ninja-style all-black was not frowned upon. Heck, waving a switch-blade right under a Peacekeepers nose wouldn't get you in trouble. About fifteen minutes later Arcadia was ready to go. She'd pulled a brush through her hair and stuck a dagger down her boot. Only as she cat-quietly walked over to her bedroom window and opened it, did the thought to ditch the meeting cross her mind.

Why should she go? Obviously these people were crooks, not connected to the people Cady worked with, no matter how hard they tried to make it seem so. But what if they have a hostage? In response to her own question, she rolled her eyes. What a laugh, what a funny thing to think about, for it was impossible. The only people Arcadia London... cared about were in this very apartment. A group of girls that were deadly even with their hands and feet tied together and a sock shoved in their mouths. Nobody could get the best of them on home-turf. She thought this with a slight air of confidence and a smug smile. Arcadia looked out of the window and the smug smile reached her eyes, dominating her face. This was why she had chosen this bedroom. There was a fire escape located a few feet to one side. Arcadia readied herself for a flying leap, but just as she jumped to the side, a wild, irrational thought seized hold of her normally logical brain.

There was in fact another person Arcadia cared for. One she had not seen for awhile, and she tried her best not think about. Nero Banks. Cady London had feelings for Nero Banks, feelings that her cool, spaced out mind did not understand. He made her feel alive, focused her mind. Even now she felt more alive, although whether this was due to her sudden, scrambling, airborne state or thoughts of Nero, Cady was not sure. Her airborne state was cured by the feel of metal beneath her finger tips. Arcadia willed herself forward a foot or so more, slamming hard into the fire-escape and clinging to it for her life. She was rusty after weeks spent in this posh apartment, torturing victims whenever she was told to and doing her best not to train like a Career.

About twenty minutes later Arcadia was still thinking about Nero whilst she staked out the decrepit warehouse that the note had mentioned. Nero had to be fine, he was a better Career than Arcadia sometimes, certainly good enough to take care of himself all of the time. As she fretted, he was probably at home wowing a crowd of female Careers with his muscles and brooding glances. Always the silent type, her Nero. She rolled her eyes and did her best to silently scoff at the idea that any force could overcome Nero. If her enemies were capable of capturing Nero, why had they not already taken Arcadia herself hostage? It just didn't make sense.

Nine minutes later she was simply watching the building, satisfied that he was completely safe. If Cady had done her math right, she had about fifteen minutes until all hell broke loose. Might as well enter the building now, get the hell-y stuff over with. Arcadia straightened up and silently walked toward a door, she took in her surroundings every few moments in case Cady needed to split. There was an abandoned building to her right and oh! what a shocker, there was an abandoned building to her left as well.

Arcadia went forward, opened the door and entered the building while her right arm swung around wildly in search of a target to bury her knife in. There was nobody visible, only a sea of boxes in front of Cady. The building was frigid, air-conditioning assaulting Arcadia from every side. She eyed the vents suspiciously. This building was not abandoned. Nobody leaves the air-conditioning on in an abandoned warehouse, so who had set the trap? No need to stick around and find out, Arcadia backed away from the boxes slowly, planning on going back for her team-mates.

All of the sudden a strange noise broke the silence. The sound was familiar to Arcadia, but only because she had witnessed dying people make the noise before. That was what it sounded like, a person. Cady eyed the warehouse, filled to the brim with its funny, little boxes. Not that little, Cady... Come to think about it, the boxes were a size large. Come to think about it, one of them was partially opened, just enough to tempt a curious gal like Cady.

She moved forward, peering curiously at the half-opened box. A slender hand reached forward to peel it back all the way. Everything seemed to move slowly as one by one, the facts registered in Arcadia's head. One was that somebody who knew her had set this trap. The second was that there was a living, breathing something in the box. Finally everything became clear. Color me psychic... What had Cady been thinking about just a few, short minutes ago? Nero Banks. The Career who could handle himself, the one who was just as tough as Arcadia. The one lying in the box, half-dead.
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Her hands flew to her mouth in a very unCareer like response to finding him here. Swollen, beaten up but still completely, utterly hers. She wished for a painful moment that he was home, unharmed and flexing muscles for pretty girls instead of year with her. This was the part that made Arcadia want to label their relationship as 'its complicated.' Her bosses wanted Nero dead, and they had told her that he needed her dead. Here he was, halfway there. She could pull him to her or shove him off the edge. The power was in her hands alone.

Nero Banks... he had been completely enabled. Once in a lifetime chance. Ding!Ding!Ding!Ding!Ding! Her mind was a chorus of bells and whistles trying to get her attention. Hello!?! Why wasn't he dead yet? Why hadn't se killed him? Just leave the body in a box and return to her band of wild, ragged girls. Cadia was cute, she seemed like the type to be interested in girls. Cady could forget about Nero and the male species as a whole because they were so complicated and different. She could end things here.

Half-alive, half-dead. Kiss of death or kiss of life? Her life boil down to this boy no matter how she sliced it. Cady peered over the rim of his casket box. There was the face of trouble incarnated. Those lips, his eyes. This was her life, this was Cadys one and only, Nero Banks was a part of her. His was hers to take and hers to give. "Love, do you hear me, who did this to you?" she growled through her teeth. Worst come to worst, Nero was half-dead and about to be full-dead. She felt herself slip a hand down her boot in search of one of her daggers. Worst come to worst, she would have a name to hold onto and a brand new task in life. Cady fell into a half-offensive, half-defensive crouch. Worst come to worst Arcadia would have her vengeance.

ooc- lets give them a few moments alone before all hell breaks loose, ay? + a little in love with Alesana, aren't we?

And she spoke words that would melt in your hands
And she spoke words of wisdom
To the basement people, to the basement
Many surprises await you
In the basement people, in the basement

He spoke her name, slowly and carefully, Cady counted the seconds it took for the strongest boy she knew to utter her name. It was rather long, come to think about it. She thought it to be a waste of his breath though, for who else would be greeting Nero Banks, he renowned killer, in such a fond way as she, Arcadia London had? Of course, that did bring up unanswered questions about his veiled past. Cady knew nothing more than the general public of District Two did. Nero had been a normal little boy... and then he hadn't been one any longer. The details of the surgeries, steroids and other enhancements he had received were a mystery, and if she didn't know about her boy, then how was she to know whether or not he had legions of girlfriends?

Cady swallowed her own guilt over Griffin, her first kiss, and her forming crush on the Cadia girl. There were so many secrets floating around her head, but her own supposed love life was the most prominent, jutting out and eclipsing the rest of her thoughts. By any rate, her love life was certainly not something she should be contemplating now of all times. Arcadia instead focused on assessing the damage done to Nero, her trained eyes slid over his bloody mess of a body she did not recognize. Cady despised it even, for in the end all those surgeries, steroids and other enhancements had done him no good. In the end his body had withered and bled out, just like any other Careers would. She eyed it with nothing more than distaste on her face, and thought the expression all the better, for Cady could not let Nero see the worry in her eyes or the tremble of her lips and hands. Not now. It was no way to say goodb--

Face it. The proof was in the pudding. Nero was badly wounded and she had to say her goodbyes now. Why bother him with senseless questions that would only lead her on a destructive war-path? Here was the point in time for her famed self-preservation skills to kick in and allow Arcadia to abandon the one she loved in order to live a bloody, happy life. He was half-dead anyways, might as well take the road of a pessimistic realist.

But still, as Arcadia rolled the word 'realist' over her tongue, she couldn't help but bark up a bitter laugh. Never had she been considered a realist. Nor had she ever been an idealist. Cady was the one who lived in her own reality. She dreamed of a reality where dreams came true, she was a dreamer. Someone who was stuck between the two fundamental labels given to all people by the psychologists back at 'the ranch.' Right now Cady felt more In-Limbo than she ever had before. Torn was her heart, soul, mind and body. She felt herself quickly putting distance between herself and the corpse before her. Not actual distance of course, more of a metaphysical, philosophers distance. Her mind was pulling back and offering Cady tons of viable excuses for abandoning Nero.

Take your pick, girl, Father gruffly told her. Arcadia ignored the mental voice. She would not leave Nero to die, not yet. Maybe later she would just kill him using her own blade. Avenge her Father, satisfy her overlords and end this thing once and for all. Her lips protested. They tremored, even as she clamped her top teeth on top of them, trying to keep Nero from noticing her panicked state. Arcadia gave up, desperately pressed them to Nero's mouth, or as close a approximation as she could get while leaning over the rim of his box and keeping her body in as much a fighting stance as she could. It was awkward, really awkward, but what did that matter? Cady was a dazed and confused young girl. Nero was a ruthless, silent boy of an even younger age. They made an awkward pair any way you sliced it.

She winced at the mention of slicing. Somehow the image of Nero's hands on her cut-up stomach worked its way into her head, batting away the graphic, fresh images of Nero's body and the fading memories of her suicidal mother. The same with the cut she had gotten on her face, the blows she had dealt so many contenders and well, in the end all she could think about was that one moment. The tension, it had been thick enough that you could cut it with a plastic knife. Yes, really. Cady had once sawed through a pinky-finger using a plastic knife.

Feeling very punny and suddenly optimistic about the survival of Nero who was somehow managing to almost kiss her back, Arcadia drew back. She wished her District Two training had kicked in, desperately hoped to turn back time so a clueless Arcadia London would snatch up that medical kit lying in her room. Cady wasn't handy with a needle and thread, but she could stitch up a human body if she really needed too. Her grandma, after all, had convinced Cady that the only way to get nimble fingers was to repeatedly stab oneself in the fingers with a small needle (aka, "sewing") Oh yeah! That and years spent learning how to quick-fix the wounds Cady might have gotten in the Hunger Games. She was eighteen now, almost free of that perpetual worry nagging at the back of her head. Why on earth would she have allowed thoughts of being a doctor to clog up her mind and memory when she was filling up headspace with torturous times, passionate making-out and scenic walks through the country side and sometimes sewers of Panem?

Right, exactly, so as far as her healing abilities went, Cady was hopeless. All she could do was breath life into that mouth of Neros, and even now she was on hyper-aware death con one. Fighting seemed like a much easier thing right now. She could always carry Nero's half-alive body back to the Murderess Bands headquarters later, like if he survived and stuff. Or she could always just take him out now.

Logic certainly was useful sometimes. Cady didn't even bother to tell Nero where she was going, simply sprinted over to the nearest door, keeping booby-traps and sneaky agents in mind as she ran over to the door she had come in through. Locked. Common sense still plagued her Dreamers mind. Arcadia took an educated guess, assuming that a few things were true. All of the doors, and windows for that matter, were locked. Nero was going to die very soon, and hidden in this large warehouse was an enemy. Reunited and it feels so good.

ooc- eh, I could have gone on and on but strangely I did not feel the need to ramble. Arcadia is sort of being terrible.

You hid there last time, you know we're gunna find you
Sick in the car, sick coz you're not up to going
Out on the main streets, completing your mission
You hid there last time, you know we're gunna find you
Sick in the car sick, sick coz you're not up to going
Out on the main streets, completing your mission