Date: 2016-11-20 11:20 pm (UTC)
shri: (» we are dancing through the smoke)
From: [personal profile] shri
Oh but that stings. He couldn't hit her any lower and she wants to hit him in return, maybe less than metaphorically. It's clear on her face before she smothers it down, twitching like a live wire, an exposed nerve like he'd bared it under a blade. Hurt, bitter, angry, and she snaps back to the metal in her hand, knuckles turning white around it like she might just anyway.

Because she's trying to think of something to say. Something sharp and half as mean as she wants it to be. To tell them they're all fools, all idiots. She's a Queen of a dead kingdom. What hope can she give them? What on earth can she do for them that she didn't already do for her own people, a long time ago, only to watch them burn?

It wells hot, and angry and bitter in her throat, stings in her eyes, the choking on smoke that she's tasted for years that she had to devour in order to avenge them as they screamed and were slaughtered down to the last child. Her people, her people, her people and she's lying to herself, she knows, if she doesn't already think of this group as just the same. Hers to care for, to do everything she could for. Like she's spent every hundred years since then trying to do what she couldn't to start with.

She can't, she can't, she can't.

Galahad, Tesla, Devi, the men and women of Jhansi, her little boy in her arms, her impoverished of Whitechapel and the soldiers at Normandy. All hers, all looking to her, all dead - and she cannot -

The breath she pulls into herself is wet and sobering. "No. I will not."
Edited Date: 2016-11-21 12:15 am (UTC)

Date: 2016-11-21 02:02 am (UTC)
shri: (» are too vicious to tell)
From: [personal profile] shri
Like always, she shuts it down where her life - who she had been before in its reality is not what she ever offers up. Battle stories of warriors in gleaming metal and raised swords is one thing.

Slaughter is another.

"It's not for discussion." She's shifting, getting ready to stand up. "Wake me when it's time to go. I am going to rest before we leave." She doesn't really need to sleep, the blackwater will do most often, and she takes longer shifts at the worst hours because of it.

Date: 2016-11-21 03:09 am (UTC)
shri: (» we said our dreams will carry us)
From: [personal profile] shri
It's half-hearted when she wakes - startled from her at best cat nap when he drops the bag on her face. But she kicks out, not hard meant, just swings at his legs as if she means to knock his legs out from underneath him in a belated 'good morning to you, too.'

Struggles up, sitting there with a yawn as she stretches, letting her back pop into place after sleeping on the ground. "Are we riding? Or walking?"

Date: 2016-11-21 05:20 am (UTC)
shri: (» they used to shout my name)
From: [personal profile] shri
"Sedan - we have a sedan -" A frown, who on earth had a sedan chair? Who on earth would carry them around?

A second where she's groggy waking up and then she blanches as she catches up with the rest of his sentence. "Oh, an automobile... of course." Clears her throat, clearing the sleep out of her system, as she straightens. "I am perfectly capable of driving if you would prefer that." Up onto her nose, then onto her feet as she takes out her hair from the night before, tugging it loose so she can run her fingers through it.

Date: 2016-11-21 06:21 am (UTC)
shri: (» tragically we fall like the arrows)
From: [personal profile] shri
She sniffs all insulted dignity as she gathers up her gear. Which is numerous so far as she had too many weapons: the sword, the long knife, the pistol and the rifle. But what was super-human strength if she didn't use it? A few minutes to arm herself, tie her hair back up, wash her face and hands. Not the best morning person in the world, but at least it's done quickly with military efficiency.

When she finally gets into the car with him. It's some light dig back at him as she settles herself into the seat - and she still sits proper like she's riding her, haha, high horse. "I am a perfectly acceptable driver, I have plenty of experience."
Edited Date: 2016-11-21 09:51 am (UTC)

Date: 2016-11-21 10:59 pm (UTC)
shri: (» another roadblock in our way)
From: [personal profile] shri
Like ever, it takes a minute for her to get comfortable. Her back settling against the seat, - it's still not as good as riding, even riding when he was behind her. Taller than her, so it was comfortable so far as close space went.

Not that she would be telling him that anytime soon. Rather, for the time being, she settles, trying to make comfortable. "No," her voice is desert dry sarcasm, slow. "Elephants." Her arm settling against the armrest, fingers against the handle, tapping a slow line. Falls into silence, watching the street go by, looking over the houses. This country is poor for the choices she prefers in defensive positions. Settled in a time after land wars of that kind. Too many windows, too much wasted glass and not enough stone. Brick, perhaps, she would look for that, as her eyes dart from tree to tree on the side of the road. Two stories would be preferable.

Silence, that lapses until, with a cleared throat and a glance back to him she offers, quietly: "Singing," says it once, then licks her lips. Pushing herself through it. "When we were talking last night, about what we do when we are - 'lit'. I like to sing." It's a peace offering, as bare as she can manage for shutting him down. Offering something - human of herself. "Not well, mind you, but the first time I drank too much at a banquet as a child, I thought I was worthy to sing to the God Krishna himself..."

She's fiddling with it, the material of the scarf around her head, the gold threads that her free hand runs over.
Edited Date: 2016-11-21 11:00 pm (UTC)

Date: 2016-11-22 06:09 am (UTC)
shri: (» that you know by name)
From: [personal profile] shri
More tree, more buildings, a walker that does at it is called, walks and walks and walks. Towards them, towards something else that will take their interest. Forward, forward, forward. Come to think, she'd never seen them step backwards. Perhaps that was gone from their minds too, a way back.

"Oh, Dixon men is it? I shall be wary then." Her head turns back briefly to him, a brief smile. Wondering what the others of his family would be like. "My papa-ji always warned of it. Didn't turn out to be my disposition, thankfully." Been a long time, granted, since she'd drunk anything. Turns back to him, a crinkle turning up in the corner of her eyes. "I am sure you would sing beautifully."

Date: 2016-11-22 06:53 am (UTC)
shri: (» of rubies precious stones)
From: [personal profile] shri
"A shame, I am sure it would liven the evenings some." Hovers, almost, like she means to poke at him, prod him some. But she looks forward instead, adjusting herself again, the need to always be moving that comes subconsciously.

"Though apparently we don't have the same taste in music, from what you said." She never even what kind of music she likes, Daryl, rude.

Date: 2016-11-22 08:57 am (UTC)
shri: (» another roadblock in our way)
From: [personal profile] shri
She opens her door, poking her head out, staring out over the building in its entirety. What on earth was it? Well, shops, she knew that.

The world had changed, and sometimes it takes her off her guard - not the big things, the small things. This life, what had they lost? One that wasn't hers, that much was easy to say. One in which losing a mother in childbirth stilled them utterly, one where even where they still counted the things they lost and found the temporal difficult, no comfort to them in death when it was time for one to go. These things, certainly, but buildings like this - just taken for granted as normal to them. A place where food could be stored and reached easily. Things that they could have from countries away with little trouble to themselves to obtain. A world fully realised that was not hers and she feels - invasive, almost, when she looks in on it. Like the walls knew she was not supposed to be there. Like she was not supposed to be with there group.

Thoughts for later. She snaps from her thoughts back to him with a uptilt of her face. Her laughter is high and bright, as she meets his gaze, unsheathing the long knife from her back in the soft hiss of a promise. "And I am not even wearing my receiving clothes." Her humour is tinted, shade by shade. "Shall we? It's been a long time since I've held court and I am in a generous mood."
Edited (gets all poetic n shit x2) Date: 2016-11-22 01:27 pm (UTC)

Date: 2016-11-22 11:26 pm (UTC)
shri: (» this is the start)
From: [personal profile] shri
Oh - he just couldn't resist, could he? Her eyes roll her jaw sets and - damn it all if she doesn't feel bad for how sharply she reacted the night before. Usually tried to give an explanation as to why, at least in her own way. Which granted, she'd been informed that her usual approach of 'I'm nearly 200 years old and know better than you', didn't always work as ... diplomatically as it could.

So she swallows it and begins to move with him, not far, a little ahead and a dropped low as she scanned the cars surrounding for walkers. Blade at the ready and her movements steady. "A little, from how I've seen you all make your decisions so far." Admits it, if begrudgingly. "You are thinking of it quite wrongly, I imagine. Not a law court." How had it worked in this country after they had thrown out their King? She struggles to remember it's particulars, other than a complicated system of elections and laws, held in place of the divinity of a ruler's word.

"It was... perhaps like a great chamber of commerce. All men and women poured into the receiving area, to petition or to seek my or my husband's ear, perhaps simply to ask for advice. I dealt with matters usually pertaining to women, up until my husband died, then I oversaw all. There was often a great deal of discussion, though ultimately every decision was my own. My husband and I had the final word on everything that occurred, allowing for certain religious and social moors of course." She comes to a car, and there's a Walker trapped inside. It goes quick, stabbing it sharp in the temple, the wet sound of slicing meat, brain matter soft and rotten, the crunch of bone. Hears it groan, hears its breath ease out in true death.

Date: 2016-11-24 12:38 am (UTC)
shri: (» sparking up my heart)
From: [personal profile] shri
"They were my people. Could I do otherwise?" It comes quick, the response that it had always mean and all that had meant. They were her people, it was her Jhansi and they would never take them from her. There had never been anything else.

They had, anyway. She had never seen her home again. She couldn't bare to go back, she could not bare those memories.

Then she ducks, and she liked - watching him. Watching him fight, watching his precision. The surety he presented when she had not had it for so long. He was steady in way that she had craved so long, that she had not had since - Galahad, since Devi. Swallows, lets him line up the second shot before she darts around the back of the cars, letting him draw their attention before she circles around their back, the one at the far back taken down when she throws the blade, running forward, in the same moment as it hits the ground to yank it free and tackle the one beside it, blade into its head. Pulling herself up as the - woman, it looks like, perhaps she was out shopping.

Date: 2016-11-24 01:07 am (UTC)
shri: (» the gravel and the stone)
From: [personal profile] shri
She walks back to him, the blade cleaned off against her leg in swipes. Shakes her head in response, then carries on past him towards the building. "Being born there doesn't have anything to do with it. It's about a responsibility I had. Whether I liked it or not those people looked to me, a choice I did not get to make freely, either, I was married to the Raj when I was thirteen, and by the time I understood what it meant, I could not walk away from them."

Pauses, as she finishes, and realises where he's lead her back again. Shouldn't have indulged him. A displeased look. Which - shit, she walked right into it, didn't she? A sigh, a little worn at its edges. "Dixon..."

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