( closed ) all you have is your fire

[villieldr]

WHO: Magni & Lakshmi
WHAT: banter banter banter
WHEN: week or so after the return to Kirkwall
WHERE: Gallows
NOTES: none for now

Inevitably, she imagined, Lakshmi would wish that she'd asked to meet her elsewhere. Somewhere inside, more private. Hidden, in a way, though her Rani insisted that it was a matter for Magni's own— not safety, necessarily. Credibility? To not be seen speaking to the radical rifter who was so strange and scandalous after seeming so comparatively normal. Magni, however, has decided she doesn't give much of a shit.

She wants to be outside. These months and months in Kirkwall have ground at her, she realises. Taking away parts of her, and she does not want to be reforged by a place like this. It is time to go home, at least for a while, to breathe in the air of the Frostbacks so she can better heal in the cradle of the Mountain-Father.

The gardens of the Gallows are a poor substitute, but that is where she sits, the crutches she is reliant on resting on the rough wood of the bench she's claimed, torso wrapped around and supported as best it can be to help the injury at her lower back. Even when sitting she seems almost to loom amongst the roses.

Comments

[shri]

The time since the battle has at least afforded Lakshmi some relief. The blackwater does its task where it should well enough. Where the lightning struck her in the head has healed up, leaving nothing but the fine white lines of lightning scars, branching out like a tree from below her left eye.

Her hand isn't faring so well. She does her best not to think about it. The creeping knowledge that she can put off while her hand is still bandaged: she has lost the fingers on that hand. No amount of pleading will change that. So in the way she handles all grief, she simply doesn't dwell on it. Looks for other things to do.

Easy enough, in present company. Her saree wrapped tightly about her body. At least it is warmer in the gallows, less inclined to be snowed on here. Especially here, the meager gardens that the gallows offered, a brighter spot than the stark reminder of miserable purpose. "Magni, are you well?"

She hovers, unsure, waiting in case she did need something. That way that - she couldn't stop fussing. Couldn't stop watching her, fearful of some unnamed something sitting inside her mouth.