(It would be awkward… very…)
Draven waved a dismissive hand, as though she was worthless. Which, he supposed, she was. “She went that way.”
Operation Tilt // one on one // closed
"No, she's…gone." Faither shook his head, frowning as he made his way around the car, searching the side of the highway for any sign of the yellow-clad spy. He paused, bending over to pick up a yellow sticky note, before coming back around to Draven. "And apparently, left this."
Despite himself, Draven was curious. But he didn’t let it show. Emotion was a weakness, he reminded himself. “She left with something of mine,” he said, voice quiet but deadly. “She’s going to regret that.”
"Lucky you then. She's apparently got her own way of getting t o your destination, says she'll meet you there."
“Of course,” Draven snarled. “Get there as fast as you can. When I see her, I’m going to rip her to shreds and feed her to a goat.”
"Lucky Cat Casino in Vegas, it says." Faither said, going to shut the door. "You've got a plane ride first."
“‘Course I do,” Draven groaned. “Seemed as though I’ll have to wait to kill her.”
He leaned back in the seat. His leg sent little jolts of pain through his leg whenever the car went over a bump, and he clenched his jaw harder. But the pain helped him focus. It gave him a purpose, helped keep him awake and alert.
((Skip?))
(Sure!)
TIMESKIP: About a Day or So.
One of the perks of having a friend who owned a private jet was getting places faster. And for Canary, that meant getting to Vegas before Draven was even boarding a plane. She'd gotten a room at a fairly nice hotel, despite desperately wanting to go with the cheaper shitty motel she had found in a not-so nice area, and had decided the only valid option for something to do while waiting for the inevitable confrontation, was to gamble.
So that's what she was doing, and had been for probably longer than she should have. Dressed in a black cocktail dress, her signature jacket, and her ankle boots, she hadn't even had to flash a fake ID, and was let straight into the Lucky Cat Casino. That was hours ago, though the exact time, she was unsure of, as she'd been immediately roped into poker, and then each game that followed. And somehow, she was winning most of them. Not enough to gain negative attention, but enough to gain quite the amount of cash off of the two hundred she'd had on her.
Draven was really, really glad that he had found a pilot willing to take him to Vegas quickly. Apparently, having the last name of one of the most influential people in the modern world helped. Even if he had no idea who the man was. He had gotten an expensive hotel room, and was currently chilling on the couch, drinking Ginger Beer. It was never a good idea to get drunk on a mission; he knew that from experience.
((It's even funnier 'cause Lyle is actually from another rp(tho in that one, Canary and him are older and actually have a thing going), and his last name is Wolfe in that))
Canary wrapped up the poker game she was in as her phone went off, a notification from a contact of hers that Draven was finally here. Fun. Now three hundred dollars richer, and with a gold watch that wasn't hers strapped to her wrist, she stood from the table, winking flirtily at the dealer before turning away and pulling out her phone. A few minutes later, she was calling the landline in Draven's hotel room.
(gasps Maybe that's whose last name Draven stole!)
When Draven got the call, he had to close his eyes so that he wouldn't throw the phone against the wall and smash it. "What do you want?" He asked through clenched teeth.
"It's like ya knew who it was 'fore I even spoke." Canary quipped, leaning against the bar as she pressed her phone to her ear. She signaled the bartender, but stuck with a soda, knowing she needed as clear a head as she could get. "I got somethin' o' yours, don' I?"
Draven closed his eyes, clenching his jaw so hard his teeth ached. "I think you already know the answer to that question," he said, voice shaking with suppressed rage.
"Maybe I do, maybe I don't." Canary's panic from yesterday didn't show in her voice at all. In fact, nothing did. Beyond just her usual casual demeanor, she almost sounded…empty. "Meet me a' the Lucky Cat, an' I might just give it back."
“Might?” Draven’s lips tightened. “I want a definite answer, or I’m not going. And I could tell the headmaster that you shot his star pupil.”
"Go ahead an' tell 'im." Canary said, her voice never changing. "At this point, tha' school's given me all it can. Maybe it's about time I go rogue, do my own thing. Anyway, if ya ever wanna see that blasted rock again, I guess I'll see ya." With that, she hung up, taking a long drink of her soda and considering switching to something more alcoholic.
“Argh!” Draven yelled. She had hung up on him. Seething, he picked up the phone and threw it at the wall. It made a thunk sound, and bits of plaster fell from the walls. The phone remained intact, though, and that made him even angrier. It was like he could do nothing to her, instead damaging himself.
Canary shook her head, stepping away from the bar and heading joining a new poker game. She had time to kill and apparently, cash to spare. For once in her life. Maybe I'll stay here. I'm decent at this.
Finally, with a groan, Draven stopped throwing things around. He would go. He would get where she was staying and strangle her in her sleep. And say that it was a trafic accident. He changed into tight jeans, an even tighter T-shirt and his leather jacket, he left, to the place she had told him to go.
Canary's emptiness was filled fairly quickly, with the thrill of betting and winning, and the general atmosphere of the table she was playing at. An actual light and carefree smile was on her face, if slightly mischievous, notably different somehow from her usual expressions. "C'mon James, folding again?"
Draven stepped into the casino. He smirked at a couple of girls, who swooned. He saw her and moved towards her, soon followed by a gaggle of starstruck females.
"Looks like someone's got company. How'd you get a guy chasin' after you like that?" Dom, one of the men she'd been playing with for a while, said as he motioned over her shoulder.
Canary snorted, the mask sliding back into place as she placed her cards down, followed by groans as everyone realized she'd won yet again. "Tha's what bein' a Shark is about." The reference made Dom roll his eyes, but he shot her a grin.
Draven raised an eyebrow. “Chasing after her? Why? Do people actually want an ogre like that?”
"I'd watch your mouth, boy." Dom warned, lifting his eyes to give Draven a look.
Canary snorted, waving dismissively. "He ain' wrong. Not a whole lot here t' chase after, 'cept this." With that, the wetstone was suddenly in her hand.
Draven simply smiled at Dom, but his eyes were deadly. When she pulled the stone out, his fingers twigged, but he made no move to grab the small stone.
(Twitched, damnit.)
Canary apparently seemed in no hurry to even turn around and look at him as she set the stone down on the table, using a finger to push it into the pile of money and things that the players had bet. "You want your rock? Come an' play for it."
Draven rolled his eyes. “Or what? You’re well aware that I can just grab it right now and leave. And if you try to stop me,” He leaned closer, lips brushing her ear. “…I will kill you,” he whispered.