[Maketh doesn't flinch. She just turns away and goes back to her notes. Henry doesn't need to know. Henry won't like what she has planned, will like it even less when he discovers who she consulted in order to get it done.]
[He's not offering to help, so he has no place being here. Vaguely, Maketh realizes she might have to hurt him if he keeps talking. She has a knife up her sleeve, various gun components on the table. And a mug full of coffee. Hit him with any of those and he'll be out the door if he has any brains at all.]
[He'd been hoping she would just listen to what he was saying and logically follow the reasoning, take a moment, and realize she's acting rashly; it's perfectly normal to be angry and do--or plan to do--something stupid and have to be talked out of it, but she's not really... Listening to any talking, which makes things difficult.
Lance watches her for a moment, arms still crossed, tense as he decides whether to resort to the last tactic he had in mind. It's definitely a risk, but he doesn't have a lot of other options at the moment; she's obviously not listening, and he absolutely can't just step back and let her do something horrible or get herself killed.
So he takes a deep breath, straightens to his full height, and lifts his chin slightly before making a simple statement.]
Either tell your Guard members what you're doing, or I will.
Then, quite calmly, she draws the knife from her wrist sheath. It's a small hunting blade, well balanced, not the sort of thing she can properly throw. But she can fight with it if she needs to.]
[The reaction isn't entirely unexpected--there's only a few ways she could've responded--but it's still distressing. His gaze flickers to the weapon, heartrate picking up; he only outwardly remains calm because he'd prepared for this possibility.
He does uncross his arms though, raising his hands slightly in a cross between a surrender and a defensive gesture, but he makes eye contact with her once again and his voice is steady when he responds.]
Put it away, Maketh. Threatening me is not going to change the situation.
[He's not that easily intimidated--not anymore, anyway--and what is she expecting him to do if he does leave? Because making a call is first thing on that list, so if she wants that not to happen then it's a lot better to keep working on coming to a solution through talking.]
[She doesn't want him here. He's making things difficult, pulling up needless complications and talking. Always talking. She doesn't want the noise, she needs to focus. There's too much work yet to be done and not enough time. Sato has to be punished, she needs to find a way to hurt him. It needs to matter. If he thinks the Guard is weak, then there will be no holding him back.
A message needs to be sent. It needs to hurt.
She shifts her grip on the knife. Ready to fight with it if he doesn't back down. He's probably armed, but Maketh thinks she might be faster. She knows how to fight dirty, won't hesitate.]
[He's actually not armed at the moment, something that he's torn between finding good and bad; good in that there's on less weapon in play and that he doesn't have to decide whether to use it, bad in that if he needs to use it he doesn't have the option.
But maybe he won't need to. She'd seemed upset a week earlier when he'd said he was concerned about her stabbing him--a concern which he feels vaguely vindicated in having, now--and so he doubts she really wants to do so now. It's just a matter of figuring out exactly how much of this is show, and where the actual breaking point is.
It crosses his mind briefly to just leave and do exactly what he said he'd do, then leave it to Henry and the other Guard members to deal with her, but somehow he doesn't think that'd be all too effective. Besides, what if one of them got hurt because he'd escalated the situation?
Lance takes a cautious step back, gaze still fixed on her, not missing the change in her grip or the other subtle cues she's giving, and decides on what his next move should be; slowly, so as not to startle her, he pulls back the right side of his jacket briefly to reveal that he doesn't have his gun on him.]
I'm not armed, Maketh, and I find it hard to believe you want to stab someone who's posing no threat. I'm just trying to help.
[She doesn't want to hurt him, but he's in the way, he's threatening to put a stop to her plans. She can't allow that. There's work yet to be done. And he keeps talking like it's a reasonable thing to do, like she's the one being foolish.]
[His warning bells had already been going off, but they're almost deafening now and his sense of self-preservation is truly warring with his desire to do what's right.
Does he call her bluff, or retreat?
Lance really doesn't want to be stabbed. He's been shot before, which honestly wasn't as bad as he would've thought, but he's heard stabbing is worse and in a place like Hadriel it'd be very dangerous even if the initial injury isn't serious. And just because his pain tolerance is high, that doesn't at all mean he's reckless with being hurt.
But on the other hand, all the reasons he hasn't already left are still there. Walking away now would be knowingly turning his back on Maketh either being hurt or doing something really reprehensible, and if he did follow through on his threat to call the others he might be putting them in danger.
There's also the matter of needing to establish, very firmly, that he isn't an easy target or someone who can be intimidated into compliance; that's a reputation that would likely prove to be very important here, well beyond this one situation.
And a part of Lance is also just really, really hoping Maketh has it in her to make the right decision. So he takes a deep breath, willing his voice not to waver.]
Is this something you really want to do? After everything you told me about not wanting to be that kind of person anymore?
[That's a lot more of an answer that she's been giving, and he tentatively encouraged; he's just as still as she is, except to respond with a simple question.]
[His gaze flickers to the knife again and then back to her face, and he's starting to feel vaguely nauseous from fear and tension, but sounds as steady as ever.]
I'm not asking you to allow it. I'm asking you to do handle the situation in the best way, not the most immediate and satisfying one.
[He typically doesn't get into justifying himself when people say such things, but in this situation he needs her to listen to him and can't have her thinking she can just dismiss what he's saying as inexperience; she needs to listen.]
[He backs up immediately, on reflex, and it kind of undoes some of his attempts to look unflappable, but he's a whole lot more interested in just getting through to her at this point; he's suddenly speaking very quickly, looking from Maketh to her weapon and back rapidly while he does so.]
You're not doing what's necessary, you're doing what you think is easiest and is going to give you the most immediate satisfaction, and it's going to go wrong and you're going to paint an even larger target on everyone you're trying to defend. Is that what you really want?
I'm doing what I should have done in the beginning!
[She was soft, she let Sato off with only a small punishment. A warning, a threat, of course he retaliated. Of course he killed Shadow and now, having proven that he can, he'll go after her Guards. They're her responsibility. She has to protect them, has to set an example for the rest of Hadriel.]
I was soft, I let him go. No, no, no. I'll cripple him this time.
[This isn't working, isn't working, he won't shut up. Maketh doesn't want to listen to this. She needs to work on her schematics, improve the plan so that everything will work. It's like hunting Jedi all over again, only this time she can't fail.
[His heart is pounding and he's tense, ready to fight if it comes to that after all, but he's not done trying to make her see reason.]
You're so angry because you know I'm right, and don't want to admit to yourself that this is not the best course of action. Putting your pride above your sense is the opposite of what you need to be doing right now.
[Putting it that was is a change of tactics and a huge risk, but he'll either succeed in getting through to her, or see if she's bluffing or not after all.]
[He won't stop talking. Stars above, why won't he just stop? Maketh tips her head back and takes a deep breath, swallowing around the tension. She hurts all over, a deep ache radiating out from her bones, and part of her just wants to retreat back to her room and sleep, possibly forever. But she can't, there's work to be done.]
I warned you.
[She says it through gritted teeth. The knife isn't balanced for throwing but she does it anyway. It hits the wall with a clang and then skitters away without sticking. Close enough to his head that he ought to flinch, that he ought to know he needs to go.]
[He's had things--a lot of things--thrown at him before and so ducking his head and holding up his arms is automatic, although he's expecting to feel the knife at least hit if not cut him. Instead he hears it hit the wall and then drop to the floor, which he does as well shortly afterward, sinking to the ground in shock.
But she didn't hit him with the throw, and she definitely didn't stab him, and those are both good signs. It's not great that she'd resort to that level of threatening, but at least she didn't follow through.
Lance takes a moment just to gather his thoughts and try to break through the hazy feeling of shock that always settles over him after a close call, and also to try to figure out what to do next. He called her bluff and she didn't actually hurt him, so this is an opening to really get through to her, but everything else in him is telling him not to provoke someone dangerous; be thankful to be alive and just leave her to whatever fate she's so dead set on running into.
He can't make a decision yet, shaken, and instead just watches Maketh for a moment to see how she reacts to her own actions.]
[He flinched. He flinched, he flinched, and she didn't even touch him. Maketh takes a shuddering breath. Stars, her chest hurts. There's something tight in her throat as well, something she can't quite swallow around. A tension she doesn't have a name for. It's just there, spreading, sinking in.]
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mismanagement) wrote2016-01-25 02:02 pm
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[Doesn't take much effort to figure that out and he'd already guessed anyway.]
And you're not telling him because you know he won't agree, so you're already aware that this is a bad choice to be making.
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[He's not offering to help, so he has no place being here. Vaguely, Maketh realizes she might have to hurt him if he keeps talking. She has a knife up her sleeve, various gun components on the table. And a mug full of coffee. Hit him with any of those and he'll be out the door if he has any brains at all.]
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Lance watches her for a moment, arms still crossed, tense as he decides whether to resort to the last tactic he had in mind. It's definitely a risk, but he doesn't have a lot of other options at the moment; she's obviously not listening, and he absolutely can't just step back and let her do something horrible or get herself killed.
So he takes a deep breath, straightens to his full height, and lifts his chin slightly before making a simple statement.]
Either tell your Guard members what you're doing, or I will.
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No. She can't let him do that.
Then, quite calmly, she draws the knife from her wrist sheath. It's a small hunting blade, well balanced, not the sort of thing she can properly throw. But she can fight with it if she needs to.]
You will not.
[She doesn't blink.]
Leave. Right now.
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He does uncross his arms though, raising his hands slightly in a cross between a surrender and a defensive gesture, but he makes eye contact with her once again and his voice is steady when he responds.]
Put it away, Maketh. Threatening me is not going to change the situation.
[He's not that easily intimidated--not anymore, anyway--and what is she expecting him to do if he does leave? Because making a call is first thing on that list, so if she wants that not to happen then it's a lot better to keep working on coming to a solution through talking.]
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[She doesn't want him here. He's making things difficult, pulling up needless complications and talking. Always talking. She doesn't want the noise, she needs to focus. There's too much work yet to be done and not enough time. Sato has to be punished, she needs to find a way to hurt him. It needs to matter. If he thinks the Guard is weak, then there will be no holding him back.
A message needs to be sent. It needs to hurt.
She shifts her grip on the knife. Ready to fight with it if he doesn't back down. He's probably armed, but Maketh thinks she might be faster. She knows how to fight dirty, won't hesitate.]
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But maybe he won't need to. She'd seemed upset a week earlier when he'd said he was concerned about her stabbing him--a concern which he feels vaguely vindicated in having, now--and so he doubts she really wants to do so now. It's just a matter of figuring out exactly how much of this is show, and where the actual breaking point is.
It crosses his mind briefly to just leave and do exactly what he said he'd do, then leave it to Henry and the other Guard members to deal with her, but somehow he doesn't think that'd be all too effective. Besides, what if one of them got hurt because he'd escalated the situation?
Lance takes a cautious step back, gaze still fixed on her, not missing the change in her grip or the other subtle cues she's giving, and decides on what his next move should be; slowly, so as not to startle her, he pulls back the right side of his jacket briefly to reveal that he doesn't have his gun on him.]
I'm not armed, Maketh, and I find it hard to believe you want to stab someone who's posing no threat. I'm just trying to help.
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[She doesn't want to hurt him, but he's in the way, he's threatening to put a stop to her plans. She can't allow that. There's work yet to be done. And he keeps talking like it's a reasonable thing to do, like she's the one being foolish.]
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Does he call her bluff, or retreat?
Lance really doesn't want to be stabbed. He's been shot before, which honestly wasn't as bad as he would've thought, but he's heard stabbing is worse and in a place like Hadriel it'd be very dangerous even if the initial injury isn't serious. And just because his pain tolerance is high, that doesn't at all mean he's reckless with being hurt.
But on the other hand, all the reasons he hasn't already left are still there. Walking away now would be knowingly turning his back on Maketh either being hurt or doing something really reprehensible, and if he did follow through on his threat to call the others he might be putting them in danger.
There's also the matter of needing to establish, very firmly, that he isn't an easy target or someone who can be intimidated into compliance; that's a reputation that would likely prove to be very important here, well beyond this one situation.
And a part of Lance is also just really, really hoping Maketh has it in her to make the right decision. So he takes a deep breath, willing his voice not to waver.]
Is this something you really want to do? After everything you told me about not wanting to be that kind of person anymore?
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The Guard is my responsibility. If I must be that kind of person to protect them, then I will.
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Is that really what this is about?
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He will not hurt my men. I won't allow it.
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I'm not asking you to allow it. I'm asking you to do handle the situation in the best way, not the most immediate and satisfying one.
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[He's not an officer, not even one of her Guards. How can Hux understand when Lance won't?]
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[He typically doesn't get into justifying himself when people say such things, but in this situation he needs her to listen to him and can't have her thinking she can just dismiss what he's saying as inexperience; she needs to listen.]
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[She advances on him, eyes narrowed.]
I will always do what is necessary.
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You're not doing what's necessary, you're doing what you think is easiest and is going to give you the most immediate satisfaction, and it's going to go wrong and you're going to paint an even larger target on everyone you're trying to defend. Is that what you really want?
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[She was soft, she let Sato off with only a small punishment. A warning, a threat, of course he retaliated. Of course he killed Shadow and now, having proven that he can, he'll go after her Guards. They're her responsibility. She has to protect them, has to set an example for the rest of Hadriel.]
I was soft, I let him go. No, no, no. I'll cripple him this time.
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[He knows he's said this before, but it doesn't seem to be sinking in.]
You know better than to walk into a trap, Maketh, just looking at this purely logically.
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[This isn't working, isn't working, he won't shut up. Maketh doesn't want to listen to this. She needs to work on her schematics, improve the plan so that everything will work. It's like hunting Jedi all over again, only this time she can't fail.
She shivers all over. Lifts her chin.]
I warned you.
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You're so angry because you know I'm right, and don't want to admit to yourself that this is not the best course of action. Putting your pride above your sense is the opposite of what you need to be doing right now.
[Putting it that was is a change of tactics and a huge risk, but he'll either succeed in getting through to her, or see if she's bluffing or not after all.]
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I warned you.
[She says it through gritted teeth. The knife isn't balanced for throwing but she does it anyway. It hits the wall with a clang and then skitters away without sticking. Close enough to his head that he ought to flinch, that he ought to know he needs to go.]
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But she didn't hit him with the throw, and she definitely didn't stab him, and those are both good signs. It's not great that she'd resort to that level of threatening, but at least she didn't follow through.
Lance takes a moment just to gather his thoughts and try to break through the hazy feeling of shock that always settles over him after a close call, and also to try to figure out what to do next. He called her bluff and she didn't actually hurt him, so this is an opening to really get through to her, but everything else in him is telling him not to provoke someone dangerous; be thankful to be alive and just leave her to whatever fate she's so dead set on running into.
He can't make a decision yet, shaken, and instead just watches Maketh for a moment to see how she reacts to her own actions.]
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Next time I'll hurt you.
[She says it softly.]
Get out.
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