feeling her boldest, she came around

[thunderproof]

WHO: Adalia (thunderproof), Gwenaëlle (elegiaque, Alacruun (coiledscales), you?
WHAT: Adalia gets into a barfight. Consequences will never be the same.
WHEN: Evening, Drakonis 26
WHERE: Returning to the Gallows from Straddle
NOTES: N/A, will add if any come up.

i. open

"I didn't want to drink in your shitty bar anyway!"

The clarion call of all barflys who did, in fact, want to drink in your shitty bar, but have way too much pride to admit it when they've been tossed out. For Adalia, at least, it's partially true — she'd wanted to drink there, past tense, found it an infinitely more palatable place to get drunk than The Hanged Man, but after that human asshole said shit about that uppity elfblooded cunt in Hightown, got what she deserves — if someone like that is welcome there, and she's thrown out for taking exception, well. That's no place she wants to spend her time anyway.

Nevermind that she took exception with her fists. ...and also, mostly, her face. Adalia is not one for getting in brawls, alright, but goddamnit, when you have principles, you stand up for them, no matter how beat to shit you get for it in the end.

She picks herself up from where she was tossed into the streets of Lowtown, wiping blood from her nose and wincing at the tenderness of it — there's a cut above her eye, bruising around her socket, it's entirely possible her nose is broken... But there's blood on her knuckles, too, and the vicious satisfaction of justice meted out in her stomach. She was, indisputably, the loser of that particular fight, but she gave almost as good as she got, and that's all that really counts. Brushing the dust off her dress, Adalia takes a deep breath, straightens her back, and begins to make her way toward the docks and the ferry to the Gallows.

ii. closed to gwenaëlle

The ferry ride is uneventful, and Adalia disembarks at the Gallows slightly less worse for wear — she hasn't healed any of her injuries, but the cut on her forehead has stopped bleeding quite so dramatically and her jaw hurts a little less than it had when she'd started the journey back. Charis is about somewhere, having made himself a nest in one of the towers, but Adalia's reluctant to call him to her when she's so beat up, so she heads for her room first, meaning to clean up her face before she whistles for her dragon to join her for the night.

There's a statue in the Gallows courtyard, polished well-enough that one can see their reflection in it when the light is right. Adalia pauses in front of said statue, pushing her tongue against the cut on her lip to test it, brushing dried blood off her temple where she can. It's in this state that Gwenaëlle finds her, muttering to herself as she assesses the damage done to her face.

"Fucking racist asshole... How dare a half-elf have opinions or be unpleasant. Well this half-elf split your fucking lip, so have fun with that, you dick."

iii. closed to alacruun

When Adalia finally makes it back to her room, looking better but still like she got hit multiple times in the face, it's with Charis in tow and chattering angrily over her shoulder. For her part, Adalia doesn't look at all chastised, and in fact has the mulish expression of one unwilling to reconsider her stance.

"Hey, that's just what you do when people are racist in front of you, okay? You punch them."

A moment, and then —

"Or, maybe you don't. You assaulting people for being racist would get... more problematic."

Charis snorts, angry, and crawls over to his little ice nest in the corner of the room. Adalia sets about starting a fire, dumping a few more logs into the brazier and holding her hand over it to let a few sparks catch the wood. It's the only way the room can be in any way a livable temperature — the large block of ice in the corner chills the air considerably, and what is comfortable for Charis is frigid for Adalia. That done, she crosses the room to her desk, picking up her mirror to check on her face again.

The door to the room is ajar, but only just — she'd meant to close it, but it didn't latch all the way.

Comments

[coiledscales]

"I never claimed I would be anything but a benevolent tyrant," Alacruun offers her a sly smile, "Did I say I would bring freedom? No. I said I would bring order - although there is freedom in that..."

But they're not here to debat what it is he's done over the years or what his plans for world conquest would be. No, he's here because someone hurt her and he wants nothing more than to take some kind of revenge against them. He makes a low noise at the back of his throat.

"It doesn't matter who started it. They were wrong. You were right. And they shouldn't have hurt you."

He's a bit single-minded about this.

"At least you're not too badly hurt. That is the important part."

[thunderproof]

Order sounds like the exact opposite of freedom to Adalia — but she isn't going to press it, not when this is one of the first entirely civil conversations they've ever had and Alacruun is here about to ruin lives because she has a black eye. A black eye she could easily heal, but — darn it, it's the principle of the thing! She got these scrapes and bruises from standing up for a friend, and the whole point of the gesture would be lost if she just healed them away.

Of course, given that whether or not Gwen considers them friends is something of a mystery, the gesture may not mean as much to her as it does to Adalia. But still.

"No, I'm not," she says softly. Another pause as she deliberates — she'd been meaning to ask after his living situation, and now is as good a time as any.

"Would you like to stay here? There's another bed, we could be roommates."

[coiledscales]

"...you're really willing to invite me to stay here?" That derails his other trains of thoughts quite handily. He likes the idea of being invited to stay. To be able to be close to her again. She made it quite clear earlier that she has no memory of what they had together. What they shared. And that's disappointing. She also didn't seem to want to try and pick it up. In fact, she almost seems to fear him in some ways.

So why invite him to stay? He doesn't quite grasp her motivation and it shows through in his puzzled expression.

"I'd enjoy it, but I thought you wanted to avoid me."

[thunderproof]

Well, that's a bit of a fraught question, considering the most entirely honest answer is 'I want to keep an eye on you'. Alacruun has been less likely to fly into a rage than Adalia would have expected, but he doesn't like being rejected, and it does at this point feel sort of like kicking a bratty puppy — satisfying in the moment it's doing something stupid, but then you feel bad when it goes to pout in the corner. The other answer is... nicer, but a bit more revealing.

The indecision causes Adalia to sit quietly, unsure of how to respond, for several moments before she can bring herself to answer.

"Well, I want to keep an eye on you, sort of. I've never seen you around people before, I don't know how that's going to go. Even if you knew how to be normal once, you were in a prison plane for thousands of years, and I'm not sure how good that is for your social skills.

"And, if I'm honest... I'm curious."

It doesn't sound like it quite physically pains her to say so... but it's close. She's not meeting Alacruun's eye this time.

"I haven't been swayed by offers of power up to now. I don't want anything from you except for my party to be safe. So I'm curious about how we got to a point where I'm willing to kiss you."

[coiledscales]

"I... will be the first to admit that being trapped in a prison for a thousand years doesn't do much for socializing," Alacruun replies, a touch haltingly, "But I assure that I can handle myself perfectly well."

A part of him is incredibly pleased to know that she worries about him. Even a little. It's attention. It means that she's thinking about him. That she cares in some way. And that's what matters - having her attention (all to himself). There's a glimmer of that in his eyes as he regards her carefully. Still, he's not as guarded as he could be.

He very rarely is when it comes to her these days. He allows his control to slip a little too much - but it's fine. He'll be fine. Honestly.

"...we respect one another," he says, as if that explains everything, "We... get along. We have so much in common-"

Which sounds laughable, yes.

"-and... you prevented me from being very severely injured after I refused to leave you behind."

[thunderproof]

"You can. Really."

The raised eyebrow Adalia levels at him as she looks up to catch his gaze should tell Alacruun exactly what she thinks of that idea, given how terribly he'd failed to do anything but make her angry for so long. Maybe it was a skill he had to relearn, and after being out of his prison and dealing with mortals who don't worship him for long enough he's figured out how not to be a massive tool to everyone he talks to... But Adalia doubts it. Not to mention how he's going to have to get used to treating people at least somewhat closer to equals than she's ever seen him be given to.

Respect nearly makes Adalia laugh out loud, but — well, isn't that what he just did? He respected her enough to take her seriously. Whatever else Alacruun is, genuinely infatuated with her seems to be one of those things.It's only this idea which keeps Adalia from saying something caustic and cruel, and instead her question comes out more genuine than it would have otherwise.

"I have a hard time believing that — you respect me, so you hold onto my soul and my future? You bind me into your service? That doesn't sound like respect. And I'd save anyone about to die. It's... instinct."

Not to mention that all the things they have in common are exactly the parts of herself that Adalia is doing her damnedest not to give in to. She's not unaware of her arrogance and her penchant for unilateral decision-making, but she's trying not to sacrifice a bunch of people in order to become a god. Alacruun decided that was an acceptable priceto pay, and Adalia... She really hopes she never gets there.

[coiledscales]

Alacruun respects her - for a given value of respect. Or perhaps it is just that he values her, as one does a prized possession, and he does not wish to see her driven away. How much of what he says is actual, deeply held belief and how much is simply empty words to try and keep her tame is up for debate. For the moment, he at least seems to exude a degree of sincerity - his expression folds into a frown, something a bit dark and unhappy and altogether displeased with the way that she's throwing his words back into his face.

"You made your choices, dearest. I did nothing to force your hand. I spoke to you - I laid out the conditions, I made you an offer, and you accepted. The choice was yours - has always been yours. I have never been able to force you to do anything."

Which is... technically true, from a certain point of view. He extends his hands to her, palms toward the ceiling, "Besides, what might be is very different from what is. You have an admirable spirit, a thirst for knowledge - an ability to make decisions and a sharp mind. How can I not admire that? How can I not think highly of you? We should not be enemies here. We should be friends."