PRIDE BEFORE A FALL | Closed.
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.
WHAT: Fade cannonball
WHEN: You can't make me date you
WHERE: The Free Marches
NOTES: OOC Post, Discussion plurk.
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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?






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"You step into my Rani's quarters without my permission, stranger?" Is the declaring, proud voice. It is not deep, or harsh, or even cruel. But it demands respect, it refuses anything less.
Behind him, Lakshmi blinks, off-center, confused, what is a European woman doing here in her private space? But - that is not a stranger, that is - Her mouth opening, and as she goes to speak, ( "-My Raji?" ). But he lifts a hand hovering cutting the words off, and perhaps the only person in the world that could make Lakshmi still in anything she meant to say.
"She will speak for herself." And with his hand hovering up, he waits for whatever Helena had to say.
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"She is my friend." Uncomfortably and uncertainly, gaze dropping as she starts to press herself back against the wall, hitting a heavy curtain of opaque plastic. Is Lakshmi her friend? Or is she queen who will smite her? Will Tomas allow her to have a friend, a distraction from their mission?
He does not look like Tomas, but his jowls seem a little softer than a moment ago, hair slightly curlier, and Helena is waiting to be struck.
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"Am I?"
She lets it sit heavily, her face flatly removed. Cold. Here she is not the woman that laughs readily as she teases. She has no play in her. There is the face of a ruler. It measures, and it measures hard, even with the infinite care it rocks the girl in her arms. A want to say more. Did you not decide that a moment ago? Should I not take that to your intentions towards me? But Helena doesn't look... right.
No, she looks downright terrified, and as much as she wants to say good and how dare you to presume something like that after pulling a weapon on me. She does not, her hand touches her husband's knuckles. The words not English but translated. "She is new to my durgavasi. No one shoots a bow as well as her. I know her honour to be great."
And with that same hard, flat-eyed look, she jerks her head. Her eyes pointed where Helena was to come and stand with a flick of her gaze. Nearer to the window at the corner of the room. Within reach but blocked by Lakshmi's own body.
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She moves to where she is ordered with her back facing the wall, and her body at uncomfortable angles, gaze moving between the rulers. Rulers were cruel. Women were cruel and fickle. Men were monsters.
"Honour?" He replies, and there is something different in his voice. "She is just like the others." He spits. "Demon."
The words are rich with disgust, and Helena freezes.
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She moves slowly, carefully, between them. Her steps light, the anklets chiming with each movement. Subtle, slow movements and nothing in her face falters. No flicker of change, still proud and strong.
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"Step away from that monster. She'll corrupt the child you hold." Gangadhar is changing. His face warps, his hair seems curlier and more run through with grey, and the words come out in English. "Don't believe her lies."
Tomas shoves Lakshmi aside, reaching to grasp Helena by her hair and drag her forward.
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"Stop!" The cry is worth as much as that, clutching the baby in her hands. Her son wakes up, with a startled noise at her shout, crying with it almost immediately. The sound beats loud on her head. Caught between the woman she is to protect, and the child in her arms. "That is my lady! Do not dare touch her, beast!"
She snaps forward, balancing the boy in her arm, to snatch him by the arm and wrench him with her impossible strength, throwing him backwards. "Helena! Run!"
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"My child," he says to Helena, appealing to her. "She is an enemy of our faith. She advocates for the corruption of mankind. We must save the child from her."
Tomas has spoken poison to her before, for many years. He tried to turn her against Sarah. He had been teacher and saviour and prisoner and punisher. She feels frozen, trapped, and even now her fear is flooding back to her, a chill up her back.
There is a knife in his hand, that flickers to be a razor blade, and back to the knife. "Redeem yourself, Helena. Come back to us."
Helena casts a desperate to Queen Lady, lost, uncertain, before she looks back to Tomas. Her expression is still fearful, but she sprints to him, leaping to tackle him to the ground, and grasping a heavy metal wrench from the ground to strike him across the face.