Snippet #2819728

Ryan wasn’t stupid, of course all of this was about the articles he’d written on Camilla’s band. None of it was personal, he just didn’t think it was right to let them get away with such blatant propaganda. Maybe that was a mistake, but he wouldn’t do it any different. But when she insinuated that he would lie in his stories, he felt much more defensive. It didn’t take a genius to analyze the lyrics Sophie’s Valentine put out, and claiming he was lying about any of it was just her wounded pride trying to take him down with her.

“Wouldn’t want some false information to spread and someone end up being hurt by it.”

And after saying that, Camilla had the nerve to kiss his cheek. A mixture of the unwanted contact and her words sent a shiver down Ryan’s spine, and for the briefest of moments, a disgusted crossed his face. ”Is that a threat, Camilla, or a cry for help?” He asked flatly, softly, trying not to draw any more attention to them.

Then Magnolia Wrenly came, presumably, to his rescue, and Ryan immediately wished she hadn’t. He did, however, step back as the two women started arguing, trying to stay as far out of it as he could. Nola was kind, but Ryan only got the feeling that things weren’t going to end well from there. He glanced at Noah, almost as if to ask if they should be getting out of there when two things happened in quick succession: Nola splashed her drink on Cam, and Ryan pulled up the camera function on his PCU, which he got to start filming right as Camilla slapped Magnolia.

Ryan hadn’t really noticed Samar before he came barreling in towards Camilla, but he did know this wasn’t good for his image.

Miles Caal got involved. Ryan didn’t know him, but he knew enough about him to know that this was an interesting development. Ryan had stayed up to date with all the news that had come out about people who’d worked for the government during the revolution, and Miles had insisted the entire time that he didn’t have a choice in what he did (though much of what he’d done didn’t hit the news, just the results), and he seemed genuinely repentant. Ryan wasn’t sure if Miles looked like the kind of man who was sorry to have done the wrong thing, or the kind of man who was only sorry because he wound up on the wrong side.

At any rate, he didn’t really seem to help in the current situation, but it defused itself, nonetheless.

Nola and Samar left, probably for the better, then Noah was looking over Camilla, and Miles had (halfheartedly) turned to check back in with Cam. Ryan wasn’t about to interject on Camilla’s possibly-necessary medical care, but he did offer a sideways glance at Miles, interested in seeing how the man who’d so quickly run to her aid would react.

”You should probably go, Cam.” Ryan didn’t think Miles looked all there, ”Hatch ‘n the doctors’ll take good care of you.”

Miles seemed to notice that Ryan was staring at him, then, and turned to look at him. ”Cam do that?” He asked, referring to the wine staining Ryan’s shirt. Ryan nodded. ”Hm.” Miles nodded, himself, and without ceremony looked at Hatch, said, ”You know how to reach me if anyone needs me.” And then turned to leave.

Weird guy.

Ryan scratched his head, ”Do you have any stuff you need someone to get for you, Camilla? A coat or something?” He wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of helping her, but he wasn’t heartless either, and he didn’t want to leave the woman high and dry while she was drunk and hurting.