PRIDE BEFORE A FALL | Closed.

[limier]

WHO: Lakshmi + Coupe, Kitty, Gwenaelle, Helena, Iorveth, Marcoulf, Merrill, Solas.
WHAT: Fade cannonball
WHEN: You can't make me date you
WHERE: The Free Marches
NOTES: OOC Post, Discussion plurk.

This is routine.

A rift, high above the ruins of the Hammer’s Edge Bridge. It cuts into the sky, green and pulsing as a wound to spit out spirits like misery. This is routine — but the position is precarious, so near to a cliff ledge. Watch your footing, a fall promises only sharp rocks and water below.

The task is straightforward: Close the tear, or provide a diversion for the Rifters doing so. Keep yourself alive, and keep your hand to the task, no matter how it aches. When respite comes, it’s a matter of seconds: The Rift stabilizes, and,

And Lakshmi breaks from the group. Moving fast (too considered for the pace, every demon dodged, never a misstep on the odd root or rock) as she sprints for the edge. Maybe you tried to grab her, stop her, stop someone else from grabbing her.

She launches herself legs out, flatly determined in her aim —

Maybe it’s only that like it or not, she’s going through that rift. Maybe it’s that there’s no good reason not to join her. Maybe it’s that everyone else is jumping too.

Routine, right?

 

Comments

[rathercommon]

"Not here."

Kitty is angry, to be sure. She's also curious. Curious, wonder-struck, with the curiosity of all of this cutting through her fury so that she can't hold onto it too long. So her voice isn't as strident as usual, isn't as fierce; instead, there's a little softness to it.

"Or maybe this is it. Regardless - " She looks back to Lakshmi, tries to hold onto her anger. "This was idiotic."

[chainlightning]

"The Fade," supplies Merrill, from where she's picking over the ruined roof they've ended up on. Her feet are bare, which does few favors when trying to avoid any jagged stone edges.

This is- well. It isn't the first time it's happened to anyone, but that doesn't mean it's a good thing.

"Take deep breaths," she advises, glancing around. "Strong emotions may draw spirits to us and the more negative the emotion, the more likely it's going to be a demon."

[shri]

"It should have taken me home."

Because if it brought her here, dragged her from where she should have been - how dare it not return her? Like she could hold the sky accountable if she but gripped it with both hands. If she just threw herself at it hard enough.

"Why hasn't it given me back." It's a mad thing to say, and she feels the madness of it even as she says it. But that is hasn't worked is beyond her, at present. Because no amount of soothing would stop this now it started. Like a slit throat, bubbling up and slick.

[elegiaque]

"No! It shouldn't have! And if you had been less of an irresponsible, selfish cunt you might have spoken to someone about this first and known people have gone into the Fade through a rift before and it doesn't go anywhere but here!"

Furious doesn't begin to describe how she's feeling.

"I will hold you personally responsible for everything that happens because you couldn't be bothered, as usual," a little harsh, Gwen, "to learn what's around you instead of expecting what you think it should be to matter."

[rathercommon]

Kitty shoots Gwen a bit of a look at "irresponsible, selfish cunt." She doesn't say anything, but the look is clear enough: a little bit yeah I get it and a little bit please don't.

[strangel]

Helena is on all falls, crouched like a feral creature ready to strike. Like might be a bit optimistic, when she is generally accepted as a feral creature.

"Queen Lady," she rasps, her voice rougher and lower than usual, as she moves forwards. Past the shouting not-French, and the little cat. "If I do not get back to my sisters, you will never know light again. Even if you are home, it will not be for your seeing."

[esquive]

Mute as the grave and pale as a sheet lyed in sun, Marcoulf has stood at the edge of whatever this is as transfixed. But somewhere between Gwen and Helena outbursts, he jerks as if struck. By the time her threat is well developed, his hand claps down on Lakshmi's arm like he means to drag her about by it.

"We should get off this roof. If something comes - there's nowhere to go." There might not be anywhere to go somewhere else either. But all this open space and tilting sky, water crawling upwards and dust drifting at uneven angles-- it has him all halting, every small hair standing on end.

[shri]

"Let the damn demons attack." It snaps her out of her shock, to the threats to her life, to Gwen's snarling words. At least for a second until Marcoulf's reaching makes her stumble. Feeling pulled and to it she wrenches herself out of it. Jerking bodily from her shoulder out, rolling herself forcefully, she would not be held onto, be kept back.

"Damn you, damn all of you." The words bark out of her throat, out of her own mind with little between them. Deeper, rough losing any edge of what she keeps up otherwise, the accent slips closer to something of her home, clipping at the words. "How often you lecture me on how I ought to appear, else how I will seem to you. But yet I should take you at your word! I listen and I listen well. Oh yes, I hear how gladly I hear how I should accept the words of people who tell me I ought to be glad to live on my knees. How I might upset them for something that I never wanted. You are all certainly to be trusted, I can certainly confide a single thing in any of you."

[elegiaque]

A moment ago, Gwenaëlle had been sensible. Inasmuch as she was ever going to be sensible, inasmuch as that is applicable to anything that involves screaming cunt at another person. I listen well—

She hauls off, just like Coupe taught her, and punches Lakshmi in the mouth.

“By all means,” she snarls back, “feel free to keep your ignorant mouth shut while the rest of us deal with your fuck up. Go ahead and hold your breath until I give a damn who you confide in, it'll solve one of our problems.”

[shri]

The action isn't even thought through after the blow connects. You are a warrior, Manu, you are to never accept a blow again. Nor was it that Gwenaelle had the strength to strike Lakshmi true enough to hurt her, not really. Cause a spit up of blood in her mouth which she chokes out.

The blow isn't to Gwen's face. Mercy for that. But it goes hard into her stomach, flat knuckles are worn hard for these things. The heavy leather made to add to the blow, hard, pointed, all of her considerable strength straight in, "you should have a thought who you strike, girl." Hissed low, unforgiving.

[strangel]

The bane bow is in Helena's hands, and even as the Queen lady hacks words at them, she draws it back, and looses an arrow. Swift, brutal, and with another in her hands easily and trained on Gwen, this time.

The arrow, should it follow its proper path, sinks deep into Lakshmi's shoulder. She is careful to make sure it does not sink into the upper trapezius - she wants to hurt, not incapacitate. She will need her arms and her back working for fighting.

“There. Reprimand for us all.” Flatly, to all of them. Her gaze stays on Gwen as she adds, “shut up. We go, now. You can be babies later."

cw: dv

[elegiaque]

It's been a long time since someone punched her in the gut and hissed in her ear, but not so long that the familiarity of it isn't hot on the back of her neck, a roaring in her ears that couples with the disorientation of their fall into the fade and she doesn't immediately see Helena because she's busy emptying the contents of her stomach onto Lakshmi's thighs. When she does straighten, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, swaying a little—

She spits next to Lakshmi's feet, but courteously gives Helena berth when she stalks past her.

[shri]

Being vomited on wasn't a new experience, or even that distant a one ( thanks Bene ), and for a woman that grew up in the streets, to end up hiding in slums, it's hardly something that makes her more than wrinkle her nose.

So she steps out of the way - foolish, foolish damn mistake. The shot takes her by surprise. Stumbles, immediately clutching at the arrow that drives hard into her arm. When was the last time I was shot by a blasted arrow?

"Ugh," is the snap, her hand lifting up, snarling with the pain. "That was a waste - " Her hand reaches up and - it's stupid, it exposes too much of herself. But the grip is firm around the arrow shaft, taking it sure in hand and wrenching it out. Ripping it out of cloth and skin as fast at it went in. The blood that pisses out of it immediately, staining down her white undershirt and over the leather armour. Red and copper tinged.

[rathercommon]

"You - stop it! Stop it, you bloody idiots!" When that arrow had hit, she'd felt a lurch of terrified nausea, a dizzy sort of terror. The wound was minor, but she still feels the fear, the anger - that they're bloody firing arrows at each other -

She goes to Lakshmi, thrusting herself between her and the others. Placing herself in the way of further blows or arrows. Not that she's well pleased with Lakshmi, either - when she takes her handkerchief and uses it to bind the woman's wound, her hands aren't gentle. And as she does, her words are spat out, angry -

"We're here. That's the fact of it. Smacking each other around isn't going to magically turn back time and send us back home. And it is going to serve to bring demons to us." She turns and meets Merrill's eyes with a nod. "So if we're going to survive here, you lot are going to have to stop being stupid and start being sensible." And then, to Helena, "No more shooting people. Ever."

[chainlightning]

Well, this all got... stupid.

Merrill nods back at Kitty as soon as the shock from the punching and vomiting and firing arrows has worn off. She goes to stand before Gwen, offering her a hand to help her up from her bent over position; she understands that need to strike first, and she also has eyes - Gwen didn't hit that hard, no where near as hard as Lakshmi had.

"Punishment will have to wait until after we're out of here," she states, firm; this Merrill is the First of her clan, and she's not going to be killed by demons because everyone decided to have a spat in the middle of the Fade. "Until then, we need to focus. Kitty's right; we need to be sensible. Once we get out of here - preferably to somewhere that looks familiar - and are somewhere safe, I won't stand in the way if you all want to have a brawl."

That said, she pauses and glances at Helena, adding "Though you can certainly shoot anyone who tries to attack the group while we're here. Just, you know, for the record."

[esquive]

Marcoulf has, for the record, released Lakshmi. The arrow whizzing so near might have had something to do with it.

He clears his throat and points along the rooftop to where some seemingly ancient, flickering balustrade pours now as liquid stone down the side, leading below and out of sight.

"There's a stair there." Or something close enough to it.

[strangel]

Helena's gaze is flat, as she stands unfazed or effected by Kitty's reprimand. Her point was made. The yelling girl throwing punches had stopped, and Lakshmi had stopped shouting. Now they could move.

The bow and arrow stay in hand, though no longer aimed at anyone, pointed to the ground until some threat makes itself known. Working in group she does not like. Too much speaking and orders and talking about moving without the moving happening. Not enough instinct.

She moves for the stairs, steps quick and quiet, taking the lead. The yellow green light of the Fade makes her skin look unhealthier than usual, and this is a more wild, feral Helena than has ever been seen in the Gallows.

hoooover for translations

[aenseidhe]

Right about now is when Iorveth unceremoniously slaps a gloved hand down at the edge of the dilapidated rooftop these fools are standing around screaming at each other at, and it's probably a little alarming, but soon enough his head follows behind that hand, so maybe don't shoot him? He's not a demon? He is, though, muttering a string of words in a language none of those here can understand (save for the bits and snippets Gwen may know).

"Amadan bloede dh'oine cierme aen bloede beann'shie, hinc deihin evellienn weder`candel aen iers caen gebiam iad amadan bloede ele." He's rambling off as he hauls himself up, then holds out a hand for the next person behind him - Commander Coupe, probably as pissed as he is, so it's time to behave, children.

Once he picks his head up to glance around, it's clear the lot of them were doing much more than screaming, Gwenaelle stalked off some distance away, Lakshmi with a gory wound on her shoulder and vomit on her thigh and an arrow bolt in her hand, and Helena, looking pleased with herself. Eventually, his eyes land back on Lakshmi, with a look of being so completely done with this all up on his grill. "Te gar'ean ansto het."

Huffing out a sigh, Iorveth moves first to cover the distance to Gwenaelle, murmuring questions about her condition, making sure she's alright, checking he doesn't need to skin anyone. It seems Helena's handled that, perfect daughter that she is. Good good. He'll make is way back, voice staying low to be only between the group of them.

"Are we done?" He finally asks them in Trade, though his accent seems oddly thicker in this place. Squinting at the group, his lips move soundlessly as he's taking inventory of their group. "Are we missing anyone?"

[shri]

She doesn't bother to speak, after all - whether she had her reasons to or not, she had done this, hadn't she? Risked their lives. Why on earth should half of them give a damn over a fool that launched herself off a cliff? Not that she has the arrogance to assume it had anything to do with her, not strictly.

But as looks Kitty forcefully shoving her way between them. Something churns unpleasantly, unhappily, in her stomach. Burning hot up into her face with something, she knows too well, like regret.

No. This isn't the time. It wasn't ever the time for that.

The rest is straightforward - "I suggest we start moving if we expect to find anything. The stairs - then." The sooner she doesn't have to stay in this conversation, the better.

[dirth]

Solas has not paid much attention to what they have been doing - he has been venturing a little further, seeing what he could discover, if there were any willing spirits nearby. He knows how to speak with them better than anyone, he imagines, and it might be possible to call a friend or two to his side, should they reach this far. He had hoped that he might be able to see something, but...

The disruption brings his attention back to the party and he frowns, stepping over and looking at them all. There's sickness and blood and an arrow, it seems, and his nose wrinkles just a little before he sighs, passing his staff from one hand to another.

"That is one option," he agrees. "And better than doing nothing. This noise will attract demons and no matter our number that will be a danger. We should not stray too far from one another here."

[elegiaque]

“If the dumb cunt who stranded us here falls behind, maybe that'll distract them and we won't lose anything of value.”

If only punching Gwenaëlle ever shut her up.

[rathercommon]

Kitty lets out a sigh, and says - "Honestly, Gwen, I hate that word so much."

[elegiaque]

“Well, I hate it when people refer to me as 'Gwen', but apparently we can't always get what we want, so we'll just have to move on with our lives.”

[aenseidhe]

Spoken up from directly behind them as they walk for the stairs:

"I refer to you as 'Gwen'." Because he's lazy and bad at accents that aren't elven accents.

Also, can we not? He loves you, dear, but how about we don't? At least until we make it out of Green Hell. Iorveth casts a look back over his shoulders, making sure the others are following, before taking lead in stepping past them. "Someone should watch our flank. Commander?"

[limier]

"No one is staying behind."

Wren finally pushes up the stairs — in time to sidle back down them. Well, that's what she gets for not stooping to accept Iorveth's help (everyone always at that, as though she's infirm).

"We came through a rift," Each of them, like bloody stupid lemmings. Of all the times to follow orders. A glance over the group, past the blood, the vomit dissipating upwards, past Gwen's stiff shoulders and Iorveth's hands close beside. The frown that pinches between her brows furrows deep by the time it finds and sticks upon Lakshmi. "It follows we might leave by one."

At her side, a fist curls tight. They could try by the anchors... but better, should they survive this, that not all know of that power. If any of them might try to open their own rifts —

Her eyes haven't left Lakshmi to address the group:

"You have all seen spirits before." Have seen themselves, half of them. "You cannot rely upon them here. Look to those around you: They are the only faces you may trust."

Whatever's gone on before this, a wound at least proves life. A curt gesture to Lakshmi.

"With me," That bleeding needs to stop. "If Mssr. Solas will take point."

A Dreamer may have more luck of it.