Khaat Lupin in the Flesh

Khaat wasn't surprised Vincent had needed to produce a show of strength and dominance. He had had to comply with whoever that man was, and he had to show that he was capable of controlling her. She didn't resent him for that, for some odd reason. It was just part of that odd relationship they had. Part of her mind was already shut down to the unforgiveables. And part of her just knew Vincent--at least as well as anybody knew Vincent. She felt no ill will towards him at all. And he and Ne'Os had managed to get her out alive. She was truly grateful for that.

She was, though, fairly surprised when she found herself at the intersection of Knockturn and Diagon Alley. From her vantage point, she could see what looked like countless dead bodies in the streets and nothing much but smoldering rubble where Sparks used to be. So much death. The stench was thick. Not everyone had died easily. She felt herself slide down the alley wall to sit on the brick Knockturn Street, overwhelmed.

It took her a moment, but she realized she wanted to speak to Vincent but the words would not come. They were gone. Just gone. She saw a Quibbler reporter standing in the streets in the mayhem, scribbling in a notebook with a quill, with a much-too-excited look. It infuriated her. She reached out the palm of her hand and accio'd the notebook and the quill from the reporter who began screeching obscenities at her. She used a quick hex to cause the reporters' voice to turn not nothing but the sound of a cackling hen. She wasn't in the mood to play tonight.

She took the notepad and the quill and flipped to a clean page and scribbled a hasty note to Vincent. She tore it out and handed it to him. She meant every syllable.

"If you get a clean shot at Thaor Elldir, take it. He betrayed your people and mine. You know how to handle betrayals. You'll be a hero on both sides," it read.

ooc: incidently, i really do miss vincent's avatar. just sayin'.

Khaat took the paper back and eyed him with a bit of curiosity of her own. She had been afraid before, but Vicent had always been someone she'd been confident in. he had saved her life more times than she could count. She trusted in his skills beyond almost anyone else and hadn't ever hesitated to say so. This was new, though. She had never been afraid for him before. Why did she still care? She paused a moment to gather her thoughts before she wrote again.

"Be careful. We were with him when his mind snapped. He has become an indescriminate killer. I don't know of anyone else that has the capacity or the desire to do this but him. If he can do this, don't think he won't kill everyone of you too before you could stop him. And he won't give a damn. You can't reason with him. He doesn't have that in him anymore. Whatever you might think, I am not your enemy. Don't let him fool you. People on both sides if the law want him dead. You team up with him and they'll kill you just as quick. Stay safe."

She knew he liked power, but aligning with Thaor was only going to toss Vincent a few notches lower on the food chain, as far as she could see. He seemed to hate the ministry now, and therefore she was not in a position to help him much. But if he heard her warning, he might live long enough to continue his fight. And, strangely, she wasn't against that. She hesitated, debating on giving him this much of herself again, but then she handed him back the note, sighing.

Good or bad, she'd done it. She'd given him the truth about Thaor to try to save Vincent from a fatal miscalculation. The rest was up to him. And unless he had become an imbecile since she'd seen him last, he would now know that some part of her still cared on some level--much as she didn't understand that herself. She felt a bit like kicking herself, but she was in enough pain as it was already.

She had expected he would not let her make a clean escape. Not entirely. As a last show of utterly pointless defiance, simply because she not appreciated losing so much to the Death Eaters tonight, she flicked her fingers at the notebook and set it ablaze. What was one more thing on fire tonight, after all? She cast it aside, not wishing anyone to have evidence of what she'd said to him, and she snapped the quill in two and tossed it onto the flaming notebook. It only took a moment to consume the paper.

She wasn't missing anything. She would dutifully pass on their message. Mutual cautions had been exchanged. There was nothing left to say. A stunning spell. Meh. There was far worse he could have chosen. It wasn't like she hadn't dealt with that before.

She simply laid her hands on her lap. She wasn't fighting. There was no point in fighting when no battle was being waged at the moment. She glanced at the notebook's ashes to be sure the notebook and the quill were both gone and then she looked at him. Whatever he was going to do, he needed to just bloody well get on with it before she changed her mind.