[CCCDT] Woke Up This Morning

[Tanith Korakas]

This is a C.C.C.D.T. = CRASH COURSE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT THREAD. It is intended to be AU/NOT CANON.

 

Tanith had had a long, hard day. She stood alone in the precinct, leaning forward with her hands flat on her desk. Her head hung down, long brown hair shielding her eyes as she struggled to assess how her day had gone so awry. The morning had started well enough - coffee on fifth avenue before she and London headed over to a bullshit domestic that they only took because other units were incredibly backed up with some stupid parade. They'd been there for over an hour wasting valuable time while two Hispanic men screamed at eachother - a lover's quarrel.

  Once they'd left there, they grabbed a quick lunch and then ran to the courthouse so London could drop a quick testimony. It took another hour and a half. Tanith went back to the precinct then to finish paperwork, and she was browsing some old cases she wanted to follow up on when they got the call about a strange smell. The strange smell turned out to be a DOA - and it had been a kid of about nine years old.

  The neighbors said they were sure his father had strangled him. They had reported yelling from the apartment all the time, but none of the police could ever find anything, and the wife and kid were not talking. Now the kid wasn't talking at all, and the wife was nowhere to be seen. Probably in a dumpster somewhere, Tanith thought, as they brought the father down to one of the black and whites to take him to booking.

  Kid wouldn't fucking listen, he said. He had to teach him a lesson.

  That was the highlight of her day. Everything from there was bullshit as usual, but now that it was close to midnight and her corner of the office was all but gone, the janitor sweeping and emptying wastebaskets and the lights half-out in some areas, Tanith stayed and breathed and thought, with angry thoughts, about her own father and how he'd taught she and her brother lessons. As the door opened, she looked up, wiping tears from her olive eyes and quickly busying herself with some stacks of paper.

  When she realized it was her uncle, she stopped what she was doing, and asked him a very blunt question. "Did you know?" she said. It was shaky, like a demand, but not - like she wasn't sure what she was asking.

[Rasmus Korakas]

Long, hard days were understandable.  Rasmus had suffered through plenty of them, but until now, he hadn't guessed that this day would be one.  They'd actually been less since his niece and nephew were old enough to move out of their parents' house, and then further lessened when Bridgette finally got it into her head that she should leave her husband.  Rasmus had only been telling her that for years, but who was he to know?

The whole situation had disgusted him, but between his brother and sister-in-law's various requests, he'd had a very limited involvement.  He'd made his brother hate him for years, and that hate had finally evaporated some when the man's own son had done him worse than Rasmus had.  Honestly, he didn't know where he'd gone wrong in the whole 'big brother' thing, but he'd screwed up somewhere along the lines.  He'd thought that he'd done the best job he could in keeping Christoforos feeling safe and happy, but it obviously hadn't been enough when his brother went and did the same, worse, to his own family.  Rasmus was only glad that the lot of them were ravens, and lessened the chances that his brother would do something permanent.

Now, he'd gotten the call from DeMortei, ironically, that Tanith wasn't going home.  The man actually seemed to care about her despite his issues at home, and had apparently done his best to get her to go, but she'd had 'things to think about', and calling up his old partner hadn't gotten him the news he'd wanted: that she'd gone home to bed.  She'd offered to go in to see if Tanith was alright with him, and he'd agreed.  Now, he was thinking that even if Cassandra was probably his absolute closest friend, he should have done this alone.

Did he know?  He heard Cassandra close the door, a good idea and one he hadn't considered with that question being thrown out on the table immediately.  It didn't take a huge stretch to understand what she'd meant, not with what DeMortei had said about their day.  Rasmus had naturally asked.  Tanith must not remember, and she'd been too young to question things when it was all happening.  That was good and bad, since it meant that she hadn't had to suffer knowing the intricacies of the situation when she was a child, but she couldn't understand it now.

"Yes, I knew," he answered honestly, not about to dance around that.  "When he left at night, it was because your mother called me to take him for a breather."

A breather.  She'd never understand how many times he'd wanted to stop his own brother's breathing, and how many times he'd actually offered to.  Tanith would never understand that he'd come to, on some level, love her mother, and how much he'd hated seeing their family suffer like that.  She also never knew how many screaming matches and downright fistfights he'd gotten into with his brother over it.  She'd been a child, and not privy to that.  Taran had peeked outside while his mother tended to Tanith, and seen Rasmus and his father brawling, and Rasmus actually thought that might have inspired the boy to do it himself not long after.  Rasmus probably would have done anything to fix the situation, if only Bridgette would have given him the okay for it. 

It was a nasty thing to know about yourself, all around.  No matter which way he looked at it, he had and would have done it wrong.

[Tanith Korakas]

 Tanith sucked in a sharp breath. She hadn't expected to get an answer right away, but she hadn't prepared herself for any answers. She'd just asked a blunt question without thinking it through - or, no, she'd spent years thinking about it. She stood still for a moment, only dimly aware that Cassandra had slipped in behind them. The vampire's presence in the room went ignored for the time being - Tanith was finally facing an issue that she'd been avoiding for many years. An audience was inconsequential.

  She began speaking, steadily and quietly. "A breather. So that's what that was? When he'd go away for a few hours, and then come back and beat us harder than before for some unknown sin?" She looked straight at him, something sinister in her gaze. "You used to come around and take him out of the house for a little while and deal with him, like some knight in shining armour. Was that it? You'd just swoop in and fix four hours of our fucking lives to make yourself feel better?"

  She pushed away from the desk and alternated between folding her arms and clenching her fists with her arms at her side, but soon as her voice lifted and became more bold, she began moving her hands in her animated nature. "You used to make my mom cry her eyes out when you'd leave. You'd come in and take him away and play daddy for a few days and I KNOW how she looked at you," she screamed, pointing at him. "I know it broke her heart when you'd leave and let HIM come back, that MAN. He used to make us pay for your presence, and you didn't even CARE."

  She slammed her arm down on her desk and swept it across, throwing dozens of papers into the air. As they floated and clattered around her, she began advancing on him, until she was about a foot from him. "How is it that you never just got us out of there? Why did you never just lock him up? Why didn't you TAKE US WITH YOU? Do you know what he used to do to me, Uncle? He used to RIP my feathers out. He'd break my fingers to see how quick they'd mend. He used to stick my hands on burners when I'd been bad. He used to make Taran watch. He used to make Taran watch."

  The door had opened again, but Tanith didn't know who it was, and she didn't care. She stepped up to Rasmus, moving in closer, and lowered her voice to a shrill whisper. "Instead of locking him up and taking us away, which you could have done, which you COULD HAVE DONE - you let Taran ruin his life by lashing out. He could have been fixed up until that point, but after that he was strung too far our, he was trying to carry all of our weight -- "

  She stopped suddenly, gasping in as she became aware she had been bawling. Tanith wasn't a crier - in fact, she was notably stable, except for a few instances, but this surprised and scared herself. And there was Rasmus, unblinking, staring at her, unable to answer her because she wouldn't give him a chance - because she didn't want to hear what he'd had to say.

  "Why didn't you just take us away from there? Me and Taran and mom, why didn't you just take us? You could have and you know you could have and you DIDN'T,"she screamed. She was shaking with rage.

[Rasmus Korakas]

He had responses.  None of them would ever really cut it, but he had them.  He had reasons, and none of them would make him or her feel any better, or fix Taran, but he had them.  He really, honestly did.  There was no way in hell he was going to get a word in while she was unloading, however, and he didn't even try.  He regarded her evenly, taking the verbal abuse and almost expecting her to lash out physically.  What she didn't know, among so many other things, was how many times he'd done this before.  Not in many, many years, but he'd done it, and when they buried Tanith's grandfather?  Rasmus was the last one standing at the man's grave, and he couldn't even muster up enough love or sadness to stop himself from verbally wishing the man would rot in hell.  Cassandra had been there, waiting about twenty feet away, and he knew her vampire hearing had picked it up.  How could she not?  He had very little doubt that Tanith would be in the same place as him when Christoforos died, and he couldn't blame her.  What disturbed him was Taran, and her accusation about him letting Taran ruin his life cut deep.  He was afraid he had.

"Tanith," he finally said, calm and even, despite the way HE was feeling.  He cared about her as though she was his own daughter, partially because there had been plenty of times when he'd behaved more like a father for them than their own, and it hurt like hell to have her lashing out at him like this.  It hurt even more because it was true.  "I know the things he did.  Your mother told me, and sometimes, he did."

He was standing in a police department, with the department Chief at his back and another detective (DeMortei, that shit), and he still kept talking.  "I offered to kill him to get him away from your family, and your mother said no.  I wanted the three of you to come stay with me, but she was afraid that it would just be worse when you all went back.  I don't know why she thought you'd have to go back, but she did.  Believe me, there was nothing about spending time with him after what I'd taken him away from at your house that made me feel better, but short of killing him against your mother's wishes, it wasn't like I had all that much in the way of options."

He should have done it anyway.  He knew that now, but it didn't really help, did it?  He should have dropped the asshole in a ditch somewhere, and just hoped that the rest of the police who knew him would have turned the other way.  Probably not, especially if Bridgette talked.  He still wasn't sure if she would have, given how drawn into Christoforos and his lies she was.  That's why she hadn't ever let Rasmus do the things he'd wanted, and he sometimes wondered whether or not she would have changed her mind if he'd have let her be unfaithful with him.  Would she have still felt like Christoforos was her only choice, then?  It wasn't as though she hadn't gotten that look into her eyes back then.  Tanith wasn't kidding when she said that she knew how her mother looked at him.  He knew, too, but what could he do?  He couldn't step in and take his brother's family, however much he'd have liked to. 

"I should have."  He didn't say he was sorry.  Why?  Because it was trite, and sorry wouldn't have done jack shit.  They both knew it.

[Tanith Korakas]

"You should have killed him ANYWAY," she roared, pushing him firmly. Rasmus may have been a grown man and a cop, but Tanith was still an Elavie, and even an Avian still had some merit to strength. She didn't advance on him, but she still pointed that finger.

  "I could have been okay, I could have made it on my own, but my brother. Did you know we're stigmatic twins, Uncle? Did my mother in her infinite fucking wisdom ever tell you that? Whenever he'd hit me, Taran would feel it. Whenever he'd cut me or burn me, Taran would feel all of it, too. Do you know what it's like to be locked in a fucking dark and cold basement being tortured by invisible monsters?!"

  She focused beyond him to her partner, who was standing by the wall with a very dark expression on his face. She'd never told London that. He'd known her life had been bad, but he'd never known about the abuse - not the extent of it, and he certainly hadn't known about she and Taran's connection.

  Her heart was pounding in her chest and Tanith was breathing rapidly, even for an Avian. Her temper had really taken over her. Cassandra made a small, choking noise behind her, and Tanith turned, not realizing that the vampire had moved. She was looking past Tanith, though, to Rasmus, with judgment written on her face.

  "Is this true?" she asked softly. Cassandra knew his brother and he didn't get along, but she'd never asked him directly, because if she had, he'd have been forced to tell her the truth. Her partner, her lover - he'd been keeping something this heavy from her? For a vampire to lose colour was hard to do, but Cassandra was as pale as any had ever seen her before, and she sat down on a desk because she actually felt like she might faint.

Before anymore could be said, Tanith just held her hand up. "Save it," she said. "I don't need to hear anymore of your sick sympathetic requiem. And to think, I used to question our paternity, but now it looks like it wouldn't have mattered anyways - you didn't have to hit us, you just left us there to rot. One evil begets another." She snatched her badge and gun off of her desk and walked past him to the door, just in time to hear London take in a breath.

[Rasmus Korakas]

Yes, he should have killed him anyway.  He should have killed his own brother, and suffered with the knowledge that he'd let his little brother down so badly that the man had needed to be killed by the same person who'd promised to protect him.  He should have done it, and he knew it, but it fucking burned like hell to hear it out of her.  HER, of all people, who would let DeMortei go clean up a mess her brother had made, or let HIM go clean up a mess Taran made.  She'd TOLD him things that she'd found in Taran's freezer, fingers and such, and she hadn't done anything.  The stigmatic twins thing, he hadn't known.  That would make sense, but it still meant that she was allowing her brother to do things that were horrible to people who may or may not deserve it.  She couldn't have killed Taran even if they weren't stigmatic, and he'd fought with himself over the idea regarding his own brother.

It had to be obvious in his face, even if Tanith wasn't paying any attention whatsoever after she shoved him back a few steps, that he hadn't known they were stigmatic.  He wanted to crumple, hearing that, because he knew that they'd each gotten more than enough to break a person, and to think that they'd shared it all?  He hadn't known, and it only made the whole thing worse. 

"Don't you dare try to tell me that you could kill Taran!" he finally snapped.  He was more angry at himself, but he knew she couldn't.  He would have killed his brother, but who could blame him for hesitating when the man's own wife was telling him not to?  It was his brother.  "And don't you EVER think that Taran could kill you!  I did the same thing for your father that Taran did for you, so try to tell me how YOU could have done what I didn't do!"

It didn't excuse him.  He should have.  He fucking should have, and he knew he was going to be screwed up all over again with the new details.  Bridgette had told him that Christoforos had locked Taran in the basement, and Rasmus had been pissed, but thought that at least the kid was safe from his father then.  It was a different kind of abuse, that solitary confinement, but it could have given the boy some peace and quiet.  He hadn't known that Taran would suffer whatever Tanith did while he was down there.  Had Christoforos?  He'd never said so.  Why the fuck had he mentioned other things, and not that?

He wasn't going to follow her.  Let that scumbag DeMortei follow her, and let her take her comfort from him.  The man opened his mouth like he was going to say something, however, and that was the last thing Rasmus was allowing.

"You can shut the FUCK up, DeMortei!  Don't even open that lying fucking mouth right now!" he finally shouted, at his limit.  He hadn't been this out of control since he was younger, mostly because of Cassandra.  She'd tempered him when he most needed it, and now she was disgusted with him, too.  Perfect.

"You don't even know what the fuck I was going to say, you idiot," DeMortei snapped back, much quieter and looking positively murderous.  Rasmus knew that the man smelled his own demise, and was actually surprised that the cat didn't just leave with Tanith.  It would have been the smart thing to do. 

"It doesn't MATTER what you were going to say, you piece of shit!  You're going to leave with my niece, telling her what a horrible fucking person I am for not being able to kill my own fucking brother, and you're just as bad as her father!" he exploded, having stayed still up until this point.  It was probably suicidal, but he advanced on the jaguar.  What did he care?  He knew that there was no way DeMortei could do shit to him with Cassandra and Tanith there.

Well, actually, there was the fact that he'd gotten closer to the man as he yelled, and jaguars are incredibly quick predators.  DeMortei couldn't kill him with Cassandra and Tanith there, but the man only seemed to flinch, and Rasmus' nose exploded blood.  That was all the response London had for THAT.

[Tanith Korakas]

  "Don't you dare try to tell me that you could kill Taran! And don't you EVER think that Taran could kill you!  I did the same thing for your father that Taran did for you, so try to tell me how YOU could have done what I didn't do!"

Rasmus had finally shot back at Tanith, and she took the bait with a feral sort of look in her eyes that was slowly becoming the norm for the occupants of the room. "The people who Taran deals with are BAD PEOPLE, RASMUS. People WE CAN'T PIN. AND BESIDES THAT, TARAN ISN'T STUPID ENOUGH TO HAVE FUCKING KIDS, RASMUS," she screamed. That was all she could get out of her mouth before London 'moved' her out of the way.

  And then came something Tanith did not expect.

  "It doesn't MATTER what you were going to say, you piece of shit!  You're going to leave with my niece, telling her what a horrible fucking person I am for not being able to kill my own fucking brother, and you're just as bad as her father!"

  "Just as bad as her father?" Tanith said very softly, her face knitted in confusion. Another of Rasmus' lies, surely - and then London hit him, and Tanith felt blood dance across her face. She was paralyzed, not because of the blood, or the confrontation at hand, but because of the look on London's face - because it told her that what had been said was true. It was true.

  Tanith couldn't breathe. When London looked back at her - the man she'd trusted her life with, the man who'd listened to her complain and let her sleep on his shoulder when they were exhausted, hiding away on detail, the man who'd held her when she'd cried for her brother - the man she'd trusted with her life. She couldn't breathe. She put her hand to the hollow of her throat, wondering if this was what happened to humans when they became overwhelmed. She felt tingling all over her body, and she staggered back until she hit the wall, the jolt knocking some sense back into her.

  Then a chair flipped over, and suddenly London was on his back across the room, and Rasmus was on the other side, more papers floating in the air. Cassandra stood where they both had, a look of horror on her face. For a Mira, people grossly underestimated Cassandra, but her sire was incredibly strong and fierce, and hundreds of years of her existence had not been for nothing. "London, I want the truth and I want it now," she said, her voice low and shaking.

  She would deal with Rasmus and his omissions of truth later, but for now, her crosshairs were on the jaguar that had so long hidden in her shadow, doing just enough good to keep her eyes off of him.

[London DeMortei]

Rasmus almost felt like the wind had been knocked out of him when Cassandra pushed him backwards, but the jaguar's blow had still taken priority.  It knocked him senseless, which wasn't surprising.  Jaguars were predators, and there was nothing about London that failed to live up to that.  For the moment, he was okay with being forgotten while he cursed under his breath and pulled his shirtsleeve down enough to try to soak up the blood.  Head back, pressure on the bridge, and hope it isn't broken.

Fucking shapeshifting asshole motherfucker.

Rasmus could bitch and moan all he wanted, and think that it sucked that Cassandra had knocked the wind out of him, but London was knocked sprawling across the room.  It didn't happen often that he ended up on his back on the floor, and he hit with such force that if he hadn't been a shifter, he'd have been going into the hospital to check about a concussion.  As it was, it didn't do much of anything, because his body knit him back together fast enough for him to be pulling himself back to his feet.  He was slow about it, taking that opportunity to let his mind rush off in a zillion different directions and plans.  He could deny it all, he could refuse to answer, he could leave.  He could stand there and watch as he lost another partner, and plan Rasmus' death.  He could just slip completely off into whatever nastiness he'd begun years before, and never, ever look back.

It wasn't often that London slipped at all.  If you didn't KNOW he was a shapeshifter, you were never likely to see an outright example of it.  He didn't shift except in the worst of situations, and he never seemed to have an audience.  In recent times, he'd only slipped enough with his eyes and teeth to scare people, and nobody in that room was among those people.  He was very much a feline in his need for dignity, but other than movements, speed and healing, he didn't seem to use it.  When Cassandra asked her question, he knew it was a supernatural demand for truth, and he didn't like not having control over that.  Whether he lied or not, he wanted the choice to, and when his eyes shot up to her, he slipped.  His eyes slid to yellow, and he growled a low, 'fuck you' before he flicked his eyes to Tanith.

She was the one.  She was the only reason he didn't want this fucked up.  He didn't care about any of the others, just her.  He looked back to Cassandra, his stance as casual as he could make it when he was trying to be prepared to move if she lashed out at him again and given the situation; basically, it wasn't casual at all, but he tried.  He didn't want them all to think he was afraid or 'caught'. 

"I would never fucking hurt her, O'Donnabhain.  You two should know that better than anyone else, after Cortes," he shot at her, and THAT was the truth.  That was the only truth that mattered.  He would never, ever do anything to hurt Tanith, and that had even extended to helping her brother because she'd needed him to.  That Carmine had hated him being around Tanith just as much as Cortes was just more reason for the trouble at home.  He was tired of being falsely accused, and Tristan was just as bad.  He believed his mother. 

[Cassandra O'Donovan]

Cassandra considered intently on forcing him to spill it all, but the Cortes mark had cut her deep enough that she forgot about Rasmus temporarily. "My god," she said, voice wavering. Cassandra was a vampire - she had total recall, the ability to remember everything as though it was happening ten seconds prior. She remembered that particular case, she remembered the carnage and London -

  "You've skated by this entire time with all of that walled up inside of you," she said. It wasn't a question, just a realization. How could a vampire who pulled the truth out of everyone by a simple question have gotten this far out of control of her own department by lies? London had been holding the death of his partner personally for so long that he'd turned into a monster.  Rasmus had lied - about Bridgette, she was certain - about his brother, his family. Tanith had also lied about Taran, but - she didn't know what to do.

  Well, she did, but she knew it was going to make everything worse.

  "I need your gun and your badge," she said softly. She didn't yell, didn't advance on him, just pointed to the desk and indicated for him to put them there. "I can't be responsible for three ticking time bombs. I don't even know who's salvageable right now, but this all stems back to my department and to be honest, this is a mess I don't know how to clean up."

  It was scary for a woman so confident to admit a loss of control, but perhaps it had been a long time coming. She didn't even know what to say to Tanith, because nothing would help this situation any. She looked at the raven, lips pressed together. "I didn't know," was all she'd said. "I didn't know about any of it, or I would have done something."

[Tanith Korakas]

 There was a soft noise from the corner where Tanith stood, in shock, and a flicker of movement - Tanith pulled her gun out just as Cassandra had sank down and said her peace. She turned and aimed it right at London's face, still a good ten or so feet away, but they both knew Tanith had impressive aim, even with one hand.

  "You have no idea how badly I want to pull this right now," she said, her voice steady and serious. "No idea. How fucked up my life was, how much worse my father made it because of his father and his issues, and my own partner does the same thing to his kid and wife - " She stopped. She didn't know what to do. She wanted to pull the trigger, but London said he'd never hurt her. But he'd hurt other people - his family. Had her father promised that same thing to someone else and then gone home to take his rage out on her?

  "Put your gun down, Korakas," Cassandra said. She didn't sound sincere.

  "I will. Eventually. I just want him to know what I feel like right now," she said, voice cold. She kept it trained on London, and if he wasn't scared, he should have been. Whether Tanith would shoot him or not was a roulette at the moment - the look in her eyes was vacant, and he above anyone else in that room would know it. She tightened her grip on it at the thought of Rasmus' presence in the room. He'd just lit into her about not being able to kill Taran after he hadn't killed her father, and now she couldn't even put DeMortei out of his misery.

  She was so bad at so many things. How did her life become so complicated? Why was the only person that had started this vicious cycle gone, how did he get a free ticket out? How was that even fair to her, or to Taran? She looked back at London, and lowered the gun slightly. Cassandra breathed a sigh of relief, and stood up, approaching her - slowly.

  "Badge and gun, Tanith. You need some time off, and I'm going to implore you to take it," she said softly. She was thankful when Tanith handed them over without a fuss. She would agree about one thing - she needed time off. She needed therapy. A lot of therapy.

[Rasmus Korakas]

Looked like, of the three of them standing judgment before Cassandra, he was the only one walking out with badge and gun, and that was only because she wasn't in charge of his department.  Thank God for small favors, especially when you're talking about a really old vamp that you used to be romantic with.  He knew they were going to have a sit-down, and he was going to spill his guts, and he was going to feel like even more of a horrible person for not committing the kind of crimes that they brought people in for, but he would do it, and he was definitely the last person Cassandra had to worry about. 

Amazing, since London had only come in as back-up and a bystander, that he was the biggest issue right then.  Well, him and whether or not Tanith was going to shoot him.  Frankly, Rasmus couldn't say he thought that DeMortei didn't deserve it, but he'd taken a quick step towards Tanith when she had the gun pointed at her partner before he'd realized that he might just make it worse if he tried to stop her.  Cassandra was a much more neutral party.

All he knew was that if Tanith shot DeMortei, she would never forgive herself.  Rasmus had been closer to the situation than Cassandra had been, and his recall might not have been as good as a human, but he knew more of it.  He knew more of what had caused London to snap, because London had mentioned things when they'd happened.  If Tanith ever felt like talking to him again, he could probably shed some light on her partner's malfunctions.  Hell, maybe she could actually try to help London stop fucking his life and the lives of his family up.  Who knew?  Rasmus sure hadn't had any luck at it.

He stayed silent, knowing that there was a hell of a 'talk' coming, but he wasn't going to make it all worse, not now that everything had exploded even worse than he'd expected. 

[London DeMortei]

Frankly, London had forgotten that he even had a gun, and had instead turned ever so slightly to watch Tanith.  Would she shoot him?  He stared at her, not saying anything, and he didn't know.  She was pointing it right at his face, and nothing would stop that bullet from killing him, not at this range.  Carmine would grieve, probably, but would she still think that he was having an affair with Tanith?  Would she chalk it up to a lover's quarrel in that jealous little brain of hers, or would she finally believe him when he said he wasn't?  It'd be too late, but would she?  She might.  Not that he even cared anymore, but she might.  Hell, he wished he HAD been having an affair with Cortes, and with Tanith, because then at least he'd have deserved the suspicion from her.

He didn't plead, and he didn't egg Tanith on.  This one was all her, and whether or not she pulled the trigger or not.  She said she wanted to and compared him to her father, which wasn't entirely fair.  From what he'd gathered from her argument with Rasmus, her father had been downright cruel.  Malicious.  London was angry and sometimes hateful, but he didn't concoct horrible things to do to Carmine and Tristan.  He went home, he took some shit, he gave some back, and that was that.  He sure as hell gave more than he received, but there had been times when he hadn't.  He wouldn't let that happen again. 

Tanith didn't fire.  Watching her eyes like he had been, he was pretty shocked, but she didn't.  That left him with a lot of mess to deal with, and he found himself wondering if he life was over.  Was this enough to utterly destroy everything he had?  He wouldn't be surprised.  It was almost like he could feel it spiraling completely away from him, and it was a good goddamn thing that Cassandra didn't approach him.  He might have just flipped his shit in expectation of an attack, and instead, she was talking about Cortes.

"Shut UP!"  He didn't want her talking about it, or having any great realizations, or anything like that.  He didn't want ANYONE in his personal life, in his head, and he didn't want these fucking vampire tricks.  He didn't care if she was his boss, she didn't BELONG there.  He didn't want her talking about it in front of Tanith, and he definitely didn't want to be remembering in front of Tanith.  It was all bad enough without dragging in the worst thing that had ever fucking happened to him. 

Yeah, so she wanted his badge and gun.  Big surprise.

He went for gun first, fast and aggressive, and he caught Rasmus' hand approaching his own, probably in case London did something crazy.  Instead, he double-checked the safety and glared at the man as he set it down on the desk, followed by his badge.  "If I'd been planning on shooting someone, you'd have been too slow, short bus," he snapped, and he wouldn't have been surprised if Tanith's mention of questioning who her father was had some merit; Taran had to have gotten his stupid from somewhere, and London couldn't personally judge if it was Rasmus or Christoforos.  Maybe he'd use his time off to go visit the guy, though.  After what he'd heard, it might be a good idea.

[Tanith Korakas]

Tanith wiped at her eyes, watching London's movements. She handed her own items over to Cassandra, but only because she wasn't willing to risk pissing the vampire off any more than she already was. She took a shaky breath and looked at her partner. She didn't even know how she could speak to him right then, what she would say. She hadn't any idea about Carmine and her implications, or anything like that. Finally, she just said, "Let's go, London. You have some things I think I need to hear."

With a turn, the raven was gone. She swirled her jacket on over her shoulders and vanished down the dark hallway, just like that. Tanith didn't really know what else to say to anyone, and she sure as fuck wasn't ready to talk to her uncle. How long could she hold a grudge? She was so full of anger and hate, things she hadn't even realized had been there - they had, but not like that. She didn't know how to get them outside of her. Was this why Taran was so crazy?

"I'm sorry, DeMortei. Deal with her first. Everything else can wait," Cassandra said. It was odd, considering she looked like she wanted to throw him through a wall, but her priorities were unorganized at the moment, which was better for him. To Rasmus, who was behind her, she turned.

  "A fine mess that was," she said softly. She folded her arms and shook her head. Cassandra was always beautiful, but at the moment she looked exhausted, if it was possible.

[Rasmus Korakas]

When Tanith told him they were leaving, that he had things she needed to hear, he shot a dark look at Cassandra and Rasmus.  As far as he was concerned, this was their fault.  He'd had a balance that didn't include flipping Tanith out, and they'd ruined it.  Fuckers.

"No, you're not," he snapped at Cassandra's 'sorry', and the truth of the matter was that he'd have probably preferred getting thrown through a wall, which was the impression he got from her.  She wanted to knock him around, and he'd have taken that over the upcoming talk with Tanith any day. 

Even so, he followed, because this was Tanith.  Anyone else, and he wouldn't have been found stalking after them.  He'd have just left.


Rasmus was actually surprised that Cassandra let London go, honestly.  What with the way that had all gone, which hadn't been according to plan for him (especially since he hadn't HAD much of a plan, other than making sure his niece was alright), he wouldn't have expected it.  Letting London and Tanith deal with each other might have been the smartest route, though.  Cassandra wasn't stupid, and she wasn't a bad judge of character, even with all this.  She'd paired them together, and they worked.  They were best off freaking out at each other, if Tanith wasn't going to freak out with Taran.  Tanith and Taran were the only match that Rasmus thought was better suited for this one.  Taran could work wonders where his sister was concerned, and if that was the man's only real redeeming quality, Rasmus would take it.  Tanith deserved someone who could do that for her.

He didn't have a damn thing to say, even after DeMortei called him 'short bus' for touching his gun.  Really, with all that was happening and how aggressive the jaguar was behaving, Rasmus was the only human in the room.  He was going to do the best he could to have a weapon in the guy lost it.  Fortunately, he didn't, so nobody had to know who would take the jaguar down, and who DeMortei might get at in the meantime.  Rasmus knew his chances wouldn't have been great.

For once, he was actually pleased to see his niece go, even if it meant he and Cassandra were going to have to go over things.  He actually wished, now, that they'd have done this back when they were partners, since maybe she could have knocked some sense into him then.

"It was," he agreed, and that was that.  He didn't even know where to start dealing with it.  If he didn't think Taran and DeMortei might try to kill each other, he'd have given his nephew a call to warn him about Tanith's condition.  If they were stigmatic twins like Tanith had said, Taran would probably be losing his shit over all this.