(closed.)

[tender]

WHO: Derrica + Loxley
WHAT: Dashing and extremely impressive heroics
WHEN: Drakonis
WHERE: Seedy Lowtown alleyways
NOTES: The only warning is for some awesome vigilante work from Loxley

The trouble with spending nights in Lowtown taverns is that the last ferry always occurs just slightly before most of the taverns close up. It's inconvenient. Even after nearly a year, she still hasn't gotten the timing of leaving her preferred haunts for the docks just right. However, now that Derrica's options for notifying Riftwatch when she's missed the ferry are either 1. Commander Flint or 2. Matthias, she has extreme motivation to try to avoid being stranded. She could theoretically spend more evenings in the Gallows rather than in Lowtown taverns, but who wants that?

Presently, her determination to catch the last ferry sees her dashing briskly up the narrow street, trying to tie up all her laces as she goes. After so long in quarantine, it had simply been nice to get out and enjoy a night of festivities.

The sound of footsteps doesn't raise any immediate alarm. Derrica's hardly the only person with this kind of routine, and she assumes she isn't the only one hustling to scramble on board the last ferry. The first sign of danger is when hands snag the fabric of her cloak and haul her backwards. She gives a startled shout, louder than intended, before twisting to swing a fist blindly upwards. If this mugging makes her miss the ferry—

Comments

[tender]

At some point in their wild, thundering retreat, Derrica's concern had given way to laughter. Her grip shifts from Loxley's wrist to his arm, bracing herself as she tries to catch her breath.

"Oh, I'm fine."

Bruised, certainly. But nothing's broken, she isn't bleeding, and as far as she could tell no one's dead (just terribly burnt?) so the entire altercation turns into something vaguely hilarious rather than something she should be worried about. The laughter ebbs, fades into breathless satisfaction as she straightens up slightly and remembers that she should assess this person who appeared from nowhere with a flaming green sword.

"Did you jump down from the roof when you heard them try and grab me?"

Who needs to ask names when you can cut right to the dissection of a dramatic entrance?

[charmoffensive]

Loxley is not unaware of the myriad of more negative reactions that this moment could inspire, even as he hopes for swooning gratitude -- but laughter is good enough and he casts a crooked smile her way as they catch their breath, mirroring her arm bracing, hand at her elbow.

"Oh," he says, "yes."

He stows his sword into its sheath, a weapon with a skinny blade and a heavy guard and grip, not terribly elaborate but a little nicer than Riftwatch standard issue. "I'd spied them lurking around for the past hour and thought I'd best keep an eye out, and lo. I was," he adds, in case she gets the wrong idea, "already on the roof."