// 026. [video]
[A thunk. A jolt as the Forge strikes the ground and finds itself face up. Dropped in movement, the sounds of breath and the edge of a red sneaker in an uneven beam of light against brick and pavement. On closer inspection, the shoe's only half red - stopped in a skidded trail of the same red (darker, thicker, god it's almost black but for the light), reflecting and pooling beneath the foot (Dawn's foot if one is the type to pay attention to Forge identification numbers.) before the screen is full of the soft, mercifully obscuring darkness of the edge of her hoodie (it's covered in little stars. Count them, and there are nine.) as she sinks into sitting.
The breath that follows is fast and random. Reactive. A full two minutes pass in complete silence, other than the the faint sway of something, faint creak. A grunt, a huff and a low, choking growl are all that's heard - and no sounds from the dropped Forge are acknowledged until---
---Dawn shifts, palms to gravel as she hefts herself up to crouching - a dark curtain of hair rushing past and it's back and out of frame along with the leg that obscured what's now made visible.
At the topmost edge of the screen, the sway of dark-sleeved arms, of fingertips - their color deepened by shadows, and streaks of dark blood. (It's blood. You can be sure now if there were any doubt before. And god it's fucking bright when that happenstance light hits, but just on the fingertips.)
Lifting the Forge from the pool of blood, her own fingers a dark and sticky smear across the screen, staring down into it with a faraway darkness that's only crossed her face once before (and even then just a shadow of this) she opens her mouth to speak.
She starts instead, and her whole body shakes with it,. In doing so, the Forge catches the worst of what's in front of her.
Streaks of red along the brick walls (how many? it's quick, just a flash, but there are cuts everywhere) dark stains against the cloth of the woman's uniform. Blonde hair streaming streakdark, bloodcaked and reaching toward the ground (like her hands, but they never quite touch it, do they?) an open slash red and raw splitting her throat and spilling over into what's long since spilled out. A second, somehow more violent slash across Riza's bloodless face, one eyelid torn and hanging like a tattered wing. The rest is a ruin.
The view shifts quick because it was never meant to be seen, and it's doubtful that she realizes it has. Still crouched in the blood, now rising to stand, a little shakily at first. Tears threaten to spill over, but she's not mindful of them. Have a blank fucking stare, Anatole.]
I'm taking her down.
[...]
You should come.
[To anyone in particular? Who knows.]
[OOC: Riza's body has been found, and Dawn's had a canonupdate to the end of Season 6, whilst fighting the Elementals with Buffy, but not having fought their way to the surface yet. (Also she is now effectively sixteen) Also! Let me know if I need to change something and I will edit!]
The breath that follows is fast and random. Reactive. A full two minutes pass in complete silence, other than the the faint sway of something, faint creak. A grunt, a huff and a low, choking growl are all that's heard - and no sounds from the dropped Forge are acknowledged until---
---Dawn shifts, palms to gravel as she hefts herself up to crouching - a dark curtain of hair rushing past and it's back and out of frame along with the leg that obscured what's now made visible.
At the topmost edge of the screen, the sway of dark-sleeved arms, of fingertips - their color deepened by shadows, and streaks of dark blood. (It's blood. You can be sure now if there were any doubt before. And god it's fucking bright when that happenstance light hits, but just on the fingertips.)
Lifting the Forge from the pool of blood, her own fingers a dark and sticky smear across the screen, staring down into it with a faraway darkness that's only crossed her face once before (and even then just a shadow of this) she opens her mouth to speak.
She starts instead, and her whole body shakes with it,. In doing so, the Forge catches the worst of what's in front of her.
Streaks of red along the brick walls (how many? it's quick, just a flash, but there are cuts everywhere) dark stains against the cloth of the woman's uniform. Blonde hair streaming streakdark, bloodcaked and reaching toward the ground (like her hands, but they never quite touch it, do they?) an open slash red and raw splitting her throat and spilling over into what's long since spilled out. A second, somehow more violent slash across Riza's bloodless face, one eyelid torn and hanging like a tattered wing. The rest is a ruin.
The view shifts quick because it was never meant to be seen, and it's doubtful that she realizes it has. Still crouched in the blood, now rising to stand, a little shakily at first. Tears threaten to spill over, but she's not mindful of them. Have a blank fucking stare, Anatole.]
I'm taking her down.
[...]
You should come.
[To anyone in particular? Who knows.]
[OOC: Riza's body has been found, and Dawn's had a canonupdate to the end of Season 6, whilst fighting the Elementals with Buffy, but not having fought their way to the surface yet. (Also she is now effectively sixteen) Also! Let me know if I need to change something and I will edit!]