[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.]
[Lance watches her carefully, but reading her seems suddenly impossible; he's mentally exhausted, a bit dazed from shock, and having more and more difficulty fighting the deeply ingrained instincts not to anger someone who might harm him. The one thing he is certain of, at least, is that this isn't working.
He still doesn't want to call someone for backup, but he's out of ways to handle this otherwise and is unable to keep mustering up the willpower and courage it takes to keep trying to get through to her when she seems about to snap on him. So this time her threat gets a silent nod and he manages to stand with the help of the wall, gaze fixed on her as he heads for the door, not turning his back on her in case she changes her mind.
The moment he's out of the apartment he lets his calm facade drop, at least for a few seconds as he goes down a flight of stairs to put a floor of distance between them, stopping then to lean back against a wall and take a few deep breaths. He's okay. Don't panic; this isn't over. Focus.
It takes a moment before he pulls out his phone, scrolling through to find Henry's number, and hopes his voice will be steady as he makes the call.]
[Henry is Rage's temple with Nick when he gets the call, after they both showed up to remove Shadow's body from the altar. His departure is rudely abrupt but there will be time for Henry to explain later. He and Nick managed to talk a little of what the Guard should do; that should be enough. Nick is reliable. He'll follow through.
Right now he needs to stop Maketh from getting herself killed.
It's maybe five minutes later when Henry bursts through the Spire's front door. Having headed out in full armour, he's easy to hear coming up the stairs. The rapid clinking that echoes through the stairwell heralds his arrival as he quickly ascends.
He glances at Lance as he passes the other man by, but he doesn't stop or slow down his march to the third floor. Once there, he heads straight into his and Maketh's apartment, shutting the door behind him loudly. As he looks for sign of Maketh, he calls out urgently.]
[Maketh doesn't look up from her rifle. She's in the process of reassembling it, nearly done. The process that Hux suggested will take to long. She needs something that will work now, an immediate response. There's not enough time to build a new weapon to take Sato on with, she'll have to make do with the one Lilith left her. The rifle itself is powerful. Now all she needs to do is coat the bullet in something to keep it from fragmenting too much, keep it together once she shoots him. Then the real work can begin. She's laid out a series of knives as well, daggers and hunting knives and even a meat cleaver. It would better if she could find a bone saw as well, but there's not enough time. The clever will do. She's found a hammer, too.
It will be enough. She's planned it out.
And then someone in armor comes through the door.
Oh. Henry.
Maketh doesn't look up. She's moving slowly, almost sluggish. There's nothing at all on her face.]
[The way she moves, that look on her face, disturbs Henry as he approaches. He frowns deeply and scrutinises her spread. The rifle is no surprise, but there are too many knives. The addition of a meat cleaver — a tool meant only for butchery — alerts him to the nature of her plan. The hammer only seals it.]
You would resort to torture...?! [A mix of rising shock and disgust colours his tone.] Where is your source of fire, to melt closed the open wound of his stumps? Will you splinter the bones of his hands and feet before you remove them? His knees and his elbows next? Do you intend to flay the flesh from each first? Shall you crush his hips and his spine for good measure?!
[Henry reaches out and takes hold of her shoulders. The confrontation in his voice vanishes, and he beseeches her.]
You cannot do this, Maketh.
[He does not care about Sato; he cares about her soul.]
[Maketh doesn't say that she intends to get a blowtorch from Hux's makeshift lab before this is done. A contained flame to cauterize the wounds that will inevitably come. She doesn't want to say anything at all - forming words takes too long, they're pointless - and she knows, vaguely, that Henry doesn't want to hear her answer. Not the honest one, at least.]
I will incapacitate him.
[She says it softly, without emotion. It's ugly and cruel and utterly necessary. Someone must do it to protect the Guard. And as one of the commanders, the deed falls to her.
It's okay. She's a psychopath, after all.]
I will take the blame. I allowed him to exist unchecked.
It is no solution. Did you learn naught from his assault on headquarters? His friend will simply kill him. Or perhaps he will find a means to kill himself. But not before showing Hadriel the evil that the Guard has inflicted upon him. At which point does his maligning of us become truth?
[Henry shifts his weight restlessly and shakes his head.]
Forget our reputation. Forget about Sato.
[He moves his hands from her shoulders to cup her face. He lowers his voice.]
You shall hate yourself for this. You are my sister; I will not stand back and watch you put this on your soul.
[Maketh just closes her eyes. She doesn't want to be here, existing, in this moment. If she looks Henry in the eyes, she'll falter. And this must be done. She has it planned out.] Please, Henry.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mismanagement) wrote2016-01-25 02:02 pm
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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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He still doesn't want to call someone for backup, but he's out of ways to handle this otherwise and is unable to keep mustering up the willpower and courage it takes to keep trying to get through to her when she seems about to snap on him. So this time her threat gets a silent nod and he manages to stand with the help of the wall, gaze fixed on her as he heads for the door, not turning his back on her in case she changes her mind.
The moment he's out of the apartment he lets his calm facade drop, at least for a few seconds as he goes down a flight of stairs to put a floor of distance between them, stopping then to lean back against a wall and take a few deep breaths. He's okay. Don't panic; this isn't over. Focus.
It takes a moment before he pulls out his phone, scrolling through to find Henry's number, and hopes his voice will be steady as he makes the call.]
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Right now he needs to stop Maketh from getting herself killed.
It's maybe five minutes later when Henry bursts through the Spire's front door. Having headed out in full armour, he's easy to hear coming up the stairs. The rapid clinking that echoes through the stairwell heralds his arrival as he quickly ascends.
He glances at Lance as he passes the other man by, but he doesn't stop or slow down his march to the third floor. Once there, he heads straight into his and Maketh's apartment, shutting the door behind him loudly. As he looks for sign of Maketh, he calls out urgently.]
Maketh? Be not rash.
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It will be enough. She's planned it out.
And then someone in armor comes through the door.
Oh. Henry.
Maketh doesn't look up. She's moving slowly, almost sluggish. There's nothing at all on her face.]
I am not being rash. I have it planned out.
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You would resort to torture...?! [A mix of rising shock and disgust colours his tone.] Where is your source of fire, to melt closed the open wound of his stumps? Will you splinter the bones of his hands and feet before you remove them? His knees and his elbows next? Do you intend to flay the flesh from each first? Shall you crush his hips and his spine for good measure?!
[Henry reaches out and takes hold of her shoulders. The confrontation in his voice vanishes, and he beseeches her.]
You cannot do this, Maketh.
[He does not care about Sato; he cares about her soul.]
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I will incapacitate him.
[She says it softly, without emotion. It's ugly and cruel and utterly necessary. Someone must do it to protect the Guard. And as one of the commanders, the deed falls to her.
It's okay. She's a psychopath, after all.]
I will take the blame. I allowed him to exist unchecked.
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[Henry shifts his weight restlessly and shakes his head.]
Forget our reputation. Forget about Sato.
[He moves his hands from her shoulders to cup her face. He lowers his voice.]
You shall hate yourself for this. You are my sister; I will not stand back and watch you put this on your soul.
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[It's okay, she wants to say.]
I'm--tired.
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