WHO: Alexandrie, Athessa, Bastien, Barrow, Derrica, Nell, and Poesia WHAT: A Very Riftwatch Summer Vacation WHEN: Late Solace WHERE: Churneau, Occupied Orlais NOTES: Violence cw etc. Bunch of details here.
"Then I insist you relent and allow me to laud you for tearing down a wall with your bare hands."
The binding finished, she attempts to straighten the edges slightly, despite being sure that the sartorial value of his bandages is not his greatest concern. "Is that too tight? Feel you any numbness in your fingers?"
"Good." Alexandrie smiles back, although hers is full and bright. It dims after a moment, softens, as does her voice. "You will be gentle with yourself, I hope."
She settles herself, letting her legs hang off the back of the cart as if she dips them into water at the end of a pier, and muses at the road they have passed down. "I think perhaps there is always a desire to prove ones strength and resiliency to oneself, to the world, after moments when we have felt most vulnerable," she pauses for a moment, and then: "If you feel such a desire I certainly understand it... but if only for my sake, be gentle with yourself." She smiles again, a bit smaller than the first, and teases quietly. "I have already used my dress; if I must needs make more bandages, I shall be arriving in Kirkwall wearing nothing at all."
"I assure you I won't be out tearing down any more walls, at least anytime soon," Barrow gently replies, the courteous humor seeping through his otherwise ill temper, "I wouldn't want you to debase yourself on my account."
He falls silent for a moment, wincing with each jostle of the cart.
"If you've finished, my lady, I may return to the ground. I find it... rather more comfortable to walk."
Her head inclines courteously accompanied by a graceful—if a little weighted with weariness—flourish of her hand; an invitation to the road.
"To your comfort then." She tucks one foot behind the other, managing somehow to be prim in only a chemise, in a peasant's cart that bumps along the road. "My spotless virtue thanks you for your kind consideration."
She could say it with a straight face... but she'll let Barrow see her lips twitch up impishly anyway.
He hops down, and it nearly debilitates him, but this moment of anguish is better than hours of being tossed around in the cart. He looks up with an equally tired but impish, appreciative glint in his eye as he temporarily gets farther away.
She'd join him, but it's more fun to make a show of smoothing her "skirts" before raising a hand and wiggling her fingers in a cheeky 'farewell' as the cart outpaces him for a bit.
The effect is slightly ruined by one of the back wheels hitting a stone and jolting the wagon such that she emits a surprised squeak and has to catch herself. A moment later, she's laughing quietly behind her hand.
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"I'm afraid I'm-- not much of a philosopher, my lady." At least not now, while all his nerves are crying out in anguish.
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The binding finished, she attempts to straighten the edges slightly, despite being sure that the sartorial value of his bandages is not his greatest concern. "Is that too tight? Feel you any numbness in your fingers?"
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When prompted, he stiffly wiggles his fingers. "No more than before," he assures her.
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She settles herself, letting her legs hang off the back of the cart as if she dips them into water at the end of a pier, and muses at the road they have passed down. "I think perhaps there is always a desire to prove ones strength and resiliency to oneself, to the world, after moments when we have felt most vulnerable," she pauses for a moment, and then: "If you feel such a desire I certainly understand it... but if only for my sake, be gentle with yourself." She smiles again, a bit smaller than the first, and teases quietly. "I have already used my dress; if I must needs make more bandages, I shall be arriving in Kirkwall wearing nothing at all."
no subject
He falls silent for a moment, wincing with each jostle of the cart.
"If you've finished, my lady, I may return to the ground. I find it... rather more comfortable to walk."
no subject
"To your comfort then." She tucks one foot behind the other, managing somehow to be prim in only a chemise, in a peasant's cart that bumps along the road. "My spotless virtue thanks you for your kind consideration."
She could say it with a straight face... but she'll let Barrow see her lips twitch up impishly anyway.
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The effect is slightly ruined by one of the back wheels hitting a stone and jolting the wagon such that she emits a surprised squeak and has to catch herself. A moment later, she's laughing quietly behind her hand.