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

the field.

[elegiaque]

( there is no leaving him here. there is absolutely no leaving iorveth behind—they're not meant to leave anyone behind, for all that gwenaëlle has absolutely already tried to, but if nothing else works there's no give up in her, she's too stubborn, she could stand here and scream and pull on his arm for eternity or at least as long as it took to get them both killed.

hopefully, it doesn't come to that.

she strides more sure than she feels to his side, catching that, and— )

She isn't here, Iorveth.

( whoever that woman is (whoever that woman is to him, and she ignores the pang in her chest because it's small and selfish to care, and they all of them have history, her gaze wandering to the edges of the fade as if she expects to see—) she isn't here, she isn't real. gwenaëlle doesn't allow the formless thoughts of but how do rifters or would she be real if we took her through with us to become anything because they aren't anything, they don't get anything good out of this except, if they're lucky, their own hides.

she doesn't want to look at all of this, because it isn't real, but it will kill her just as real as anything else so she can't quite ignore it, even as she catches hold his arm. )

They can't be here, and they aren't. The Fade is playing with your mind, you have to come away.