http://jonadarkhair.livejournal.com/ (
jonadarkhair.livejournal.com) wrote in
shatterverse2007-11-06 08:13 pm
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They scrub her up, dress her all nice in dirty grey, tie her hands behind her back and lead her blind out of her cell with the black hood knotted closed at the front. She can't breathe in the smoky street air, can't hear over the press of boos and cheers and chatter that erupts on her ears.
This is it. She's going to die.
The hangman's hands are surprisingly gentle -- but then they have to be, don't they? The crowd needs to be told who's the hero and the villain of the scene -- it's just like a play, she realises, just the endlessly-retold fable of the Bad Little Thief who was Brought To Justice. She's blithely accepted it hundreds of times as part of the gleeful crowd.
This is it. This is it. She's going to die, and they're going to mince her body so she can't come back, and--
--there's a split second's nothing as the hangman pulls the trapdoor lever, clunk, and--
--SHE SCREAMS as the wood beneath her feet vanishes, crack, and--
--hits grass, crumples, struggles, falls, screams again, is she dead?, screams again.
This is it. She's going to die.
The hangman's hands are surprisingly gentle -- but then they have to be, don't they? The crowd needs to be told who's the hero and the villain of the scene -- it's just like a play, she realises, just the endlessly-retold fable of the Bad Little Thief who was Brought To Justice. She's blithely accepted it hundreds of times as part of the gleeful crowd.
This is it. This is it. She's going to die, and they're going to mince her body so she can't come back, and--
--there's a split second's nothing as the hangman pulls the trapdoor lever, clunk, and--
--SHE SCREAMS as the wood beneath her feet vanishes, crack, and--
--hits grass, crumples, struggles, falls, screams again, is she dead?, screams again.
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...What? She can try!
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"I meant the other way round!" She mimics his motions, offering him her own hand-step
and hoping that he isn't very heavy. "Not much point you lifting me up if you can't climb up after, is there?"no subject
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Point.
"You sure you'll be good to get up, though?"
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She tugs off her thin shoes, sticks the laces in her mouth to carry them, and swings up as gently as possible onto the bison's flank. It says grrrrrnh again, and shakes its head at her. But it means it amiably, she swears: it's not like she weighs that much to cause it trouble.
(She tries to ignore the fact that her arms and legs are shaking, and she's out of breath, by the time she reaches its back. She could go on like this forever. Right.)
"He seems fine with it," she calls down, sticking her head out the better to see Iroh. The height doesn't bother her at all.
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They could... tie it to the horns, or... something. Hang on, let her think this through a bit better.
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See how easy it is to distract Jona from the task at hand?
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"What guards?"
And poof, her voice is quick and wary. Jona sort of fails at hiding her emotions, really.
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With her inner monologue for this one skirting somewhere between 'the poor man, prisons are horrible' and 'if he says it was for stealing I am going to be seriously weirded out'.
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As you do.
...bit of a conversation non-starter, really.
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"Only picked a few pockets." Because she can totally justify herself to him, yes. (She consciously avoids mentioning the quite literal deadline that her prison sentence carried.)
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"I... think so? Maybe a little less?"
Why on earth should he be offended?
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"Ah, well, prison food isn't that good," he manages a smile. "So... any idea how to get me up there?"
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...Hang on, that means she actually has to think of something. Hmm.
"You could... climb up its tail? It's sort of like a ramp, right?"
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Yes, she's talking to the bison.
"DO... YOU... OBJECT?"
Muuuuurgh, yawns the bison. Translate that how you will.
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