tampered | Death to Death [closed]

Death to Death [closed]

When; Saturday | December 6 | Late afternoon, going into sundown.
Rating; PG-13? IDK the movies are like lol no bloooood...but there be blood here, so. Yes.
Characters; Caspian (

treadingdawn), Lucy (

lionesscouchant). Jadis (

queenoftraitors), Peter (

oshutup) Susan (

lionessjant) & SPECTATORS (see below cut for details)
Summary; A challenge made in public name of previous personal trespasses, for the otherwise undisclosed purpose of cutting off winter's stone-tipped chill.
Log;

♚detaiiiiils.♕
Location: stadium, looking vaguely like the ring with broken columns and whatnot you see here....but larger as to be in keeping with stadium size, etc, etc. That's a basic idea though.

Annnnd threads will be made for the following 83

I. Pre-duel
a) [locked: Pevensies + Caspian]
b) [locked: Jadis + Allies]
II. Duel [locked: Jadis VS. Peter]
III. Duel [the public, anyone present and watching in the stadium, and while this obviously includes Caspian, Lucy, and Susan, we are opening it for anyone else who would be there and wants to actually do a semi-real-time reaction log. It doesn't have to be fancy, it's just an opportunity that we thought might be interesting to offer, and fun, perhaps. Reply to the main [blank] thread labeled as such with whatever your character is doing, or similarly, to another character's action if you want to interact, reacting.]
IV. Post-duel [locked: Pevensies + Caspian]

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Edited 2008-12-06 19:12 (UTC)

Edited 2008-12-06 19:07 (UTC)

Edited 2008-12-06 19:11 (UTC)

Edited 2008-12-06 19:07 (UTC)

Jadis doesn't necessarily expect to have any allies attend her, which has her a bit peeved, because normally she'd have her circle of minions to attend her.

Nevertheless, she's here, dressed in armor and a headdress that isn't the mane of a certain sacrificed Lion but certainly resembles it. Because intimidation is a powerful weapon. And because she knows the reminder will sit ill with the Narnian children.

Peter doesn't pace, but he's not perfectly still either, holding his helmet, subtly shifting his weight from one foot to the other. The past days of preparations have helped and while the armor does not feel lighter, it will doubtless show in his fight today that he wears it as if it does.

The room is quiet, as is the High King. Words seem smaller than ever to him before fights like these, he admits to himself, but even small things can provide a degree of reassurance. That is, of course, something he would prefer to never say that he needs, but everyone does, and that is a more widely known truth than others.

Lucy doesn't feel like she should be here.

She feels like she's not welcome; not because she isn't, but because she disagrees so honestly with this duel, because she feels it is her brother's way of getting back at Aslan for forbidding him from Narnia, because she is terrified that Peter will die.

She isn't ready for Peter to die. She never will be. Peter is her golden brother; he tucks her in at night and laughs with her and sings with her, and she doesn't like being angry with him.

She didn't bring Aslan. She just brought her knife and her cordial. She didn't care if it was cheating to save him from death - he was more important than her honor.

So she sat, legs crossed, and watched.

Peter doesn't feel like she should be here either. He thinks it would be better if she could be at the house or with Claire, somewhere that isn't here, somewhere that she won't be compelled to watch. Part of him has the hope that she'll stay in here, but he also has a feeling that the likelihood of that is slim at best. Turning to the Valiant, he pauses before setting the helmet down on the table provided by the curious and private preparations room.

Then he moves over to stand beside Lucy, peering down at her in a way that denotes some level of unease, the same sort that he wears at any time that she is displeased with him and he is humble enough to recognize it--a less rare occurrence where Lucy is concerned. For a second he considers that it might be better if he doesn't say anything, and a second later, he changes his mind, kneeling.

"It's going to be alright,"he promises, again, for whatever it may or may not be worth.

He kneels in front of her and Lucy knows he doesn't like that she's there. In Narnia, during wartimes, any war, she was always the Steward of Cair Paravel; locked up safe behind a branch of Peter's army, even when she had grown older. And anyway, she knew the roads and the hills of Narnia so well that if even if an enemy had broken through, they would have never found the Queen, if she didn't want to be found.

She nods a little at his promise, and she closes her eyes to give him a kiss on the cheek. The last thing that he needs now is to think that she's never going to forgive him, because that isn't the case.

"You had best come back," she warns. It may not sound like a warning, but it is one. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a white linen handkerchief embroidered with the initials of her name. Maybe it was a silly, old-fashioned, stupid ritual, but it was her ritual, something that carried over from the Narnia that they had ruled. The Valiant's favors were rare and not given easily; Lucy had been a flirt but rarely serious about it. She tucks it into Peter's hand.

"You had best come back."

A presence, a ghost thing, unseen by the human eye and perhaps detectable only by the vertical pupil of a cat itself. Dream watches, everywhere and nowhere all at once.

"Always," he nods to her, accepting the favor. Peter knows the gesture, appreciates it, not so much for what it is but who it comes from. Lucy was the first to step into the world they all let pass through their hearts, the first to believe. She has always been wide-eyed and sometimes, despite all they have experienced, he forgets that just as he is a man turned back to the threshold of boy and adult, she is a young woman turned back to the perceptive stage of childhood. They keep within them those days that do not show in line or height, but sometimes glimmer through the eyes when the light hits just right, or the shadows fall just so.

No, Peter is not pleased at all that she is here, even in trusting Susan and Caspian to protect her, should something go awry, because the truth of it is that he worries for all of them. To outsiders, perhaps, it seems theatrical, misguided, unnecessary, but for Peter this is of little to no importance. What people do not understand they will often ridicule, or fear, or both. What they imagine they understand can often distort to the point of being laughable. What they will never know, they will never know because it is none of their business.

This is a responsibility ascribed to him by his titles, by his love of Narnia as much as by his loathing of the winter that once held it prisoner and possibly seeks to do the same here. There is nothing grand about it, and make no mistake that Peter finds it far from anything so gilded.

In the simplest of terms, once boiled down, it is just something he chooses to do for reasons he feels are right. If it is tinged with the residue of that first encounter on the battlefield, shadowed by the memory of his brother falling, he'll call it fringe motivation for a bigger purpose, but he won't deny it being there. That would be a disservice to the Just, among so many other things he chooses not to think about right now.

Right now, he receives the warning, receives the kiss, receives the favor, and with the lightness of one who knows it is uncomfortable to be embraced by a full armored body, places his arm around her shoulders. The touch is barely there, but the curve of it speaks enough without the pressure.

He's every much a grown man or rather a grown king. Susan does her best to be helpful and not fuss. He's got all of his armor on. Everything. Yes, he looks magnificent.

Not much longer now. The skin on her face feels so tight. All the same she spares him a smile. There's no going back. It's coming up so quickly. The week and all of the training that went into it went by so fast.

"Would you like water, Peter?"

If Jadis is aware of Dream's presence, she gives no indication. Her focus is on the coming battle.

But it's possible she may feel somewhat buoyed by the fact that she is not entirely alone.

Lucy doesn't care about the discomfort and she wraps her arms around his neck, knowing that her loose hair will tangle in his chainmail, knowing that it will pull out and stay there when he's fighting, and not caring.

"Be careful. Don't make stupid decisions." She's not crying. She knows it wouldn't make any difference except to make Peter worry needlessly, and that would distract him. "I will be waiting, when you get back."

And she would be. Always.

Very briefly Gabriel considered staying within the chapel. Reason and necessity won out in the end. As heavily misguided as Jadis may be, she was a valuable ally. And given their eerily similar appearances who knows what would come of this. The Pevensie children were given a prayer. This battle belongs to God. May He crown the victor.

"My, you do look most...prepared." Gabriel on the other hand wore a black suit that would betray no favoritism one way or the other.

His first answer is that he doesn't need it, but thank you. It doesn't make it past his lips, however, as he trades those words in for ones that he knows he would prefer to hear when hardly anything else can be done or offered.

"Yes, thanks." Having picked his helmet up again, he inspects it, as if trying to find a flaw in its shine. To be completely honest, he finds the thing stifling, but if it saves him from any given strike, then the stifling is well worth enduring. One would think he would be so used to it by now as to being desensitized to its covering, but this is not the case and he frowns at it briefly before glancing over his shoulder.

Susan has looked grimmer, he thinks, but she is also very good at that whole composure thing, and he's not sure if that's a good thing right now. They are honest with each other, but also protective of each other to the extent of braver faces and accepting glasses of water.

It won't be much longer now though, he thinks, gaze moving beyond Susan to the door that has been left open ever since they arrived.

Pevensie bravery flourished in Narnia but began back at home with mother. Watching her taught Susan how to put on a calm, brave face. And thinking of father fighting his own battle. That was another solid example to follow. They will all have their fights. Someday, Susan hoped that it would be without awful witches. Maybe even that there would be peace.

The water jug was left generously filled. Susan pours Peter a whole glass. "Here you go."

That being done, there is that distinct feeling of waiting. Oh bother.

"This is not my first battle," Jadis replies calmly.

She's pleased to see Gabriel there. It's always good to know who one's allies truly are, and this is one that Jadis has been cultivating with great care.

Relieved that she is not crying, selfishly so, Peter returns the hold as best he can, nodding at her words, processing them silently. When he leans back, he smiles at her, because a smile is the only thing he has left to offer her at the moment. For all his ability to posture and, even, to deliver, Peter prefers to not verbally dwell on it with his family.

With Jadis, perhaps, because banter can be a fair distraction and confidence is key, but not with Lucy who would only see through him. Guarded, careful, he is strong beneath those words, but also mortal, flawed, threaded with doubt just as much as certainty, as any Son of Adam will always be.

That Lucy will be waiting for him does serve to make his smile even more sincere, even if it is a slight one, corners of his mouth turned up enough to keep from looking too weighed down or distant.

Blue would have his arms crossed, but he's missing a critical limb for that. A battle with a White Witch is more than just one woman and one man. He remembers when he fought Lumi, and he scowls. She was still out there, and Peter was fighting someone so like her; it was hard to disassociate.

He hopes that Peter would stop leading so obviously with his right side. He hopes he had broken the young king of that habit, but he is still nervous.

He watches.

"I have no doubt of that." Not given her intensity and insistence on this duel. There is no persuading her otherwise. For now it would be unwise to upset her further. Gabriel is never one to swiftly deal "I told you so" unless it is to oh-so-smug trench coat wearing exorcists. Even though they have the same problem with logic.

"Forgive me for asking, this is all under the code of Deeper Magic?" Would that be the work of the Holy Spirit? Or just His will?

Jadis nods, looking confident and sure that the eventual outcome of this little duel will be in her favor.

"It is. I would not have accepted any lesser challenge."

Rather than repeating himself, he inclines his head a bit, a nonverbal thank-you as he takes the glass, and then a swallow from it. Peter wonders if he ought to say anything about anything, his own feelings on conversation before battle going to the wayside as he further considers the Gentle, standing here with him, waiting, echoes of that self-same mother in the combination of strength and a sad sort of hope that begins with sharp eyes and a soft mouth.

Is there an echo of dad in him? Peter isn't sure, but maybe that's how it ought to be, because while he remains entrusted with the position of 'the' man of the family, he isn't dad, as Edmund once pointed out. He is his own person, as much as Su is her own, the touches of their mother only accentuating everything else that is purely Susan's. They may fashion themselves unconsciously or consciously toward some of those cutting qualities that they see in their parents, but they do not rely on them alone.

Taking another drink from the glass, he offers her a smile, perhaps a bit less confident than the one he gave to Lucy, because while the youngest can often see through him, the older sister doesn't even need to look. It isn't so much a case of being easily read as it is one of family being close, and knowing this, his smile doesn't last very long, but the expression that replaces it has a strength in it as well, committed.

Would that there was something more useful to offer up than water. And even without a thank you right now, Susan wouldn't mind. In light of the situation, manners are not so important. In fact a few things seem so important. What's being royalty in a far away land to a brother? How could they ever return without Peter? That was absolutely out of the question. They had all come and they would all go. Not because that is what Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie would want but because that is how it simply had to be. Susan would never see it any other way.

That different degree of smile isn't lost on Susan. She wants to hold him tight. Like that was something to make sure he wouldn't get hurt. Instead she looks him in the eye. "We'll be cheering for you." We are right here with you.

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Page 1 of 6

Death to Death [closed]

♕PRE-DUEL [locked: Pevensies + Caspian] setting: stadium [private room]

♕PRE-DUEL [locked: Jadis + Allies] setting: stadium [private room]

♕DUEL [locked: Jadis + Peter] setting: stadium [arena]

♕DUEL [public/open] setting: stadium [bleachers]

♕POST-DUEL [locked: Pevensies + Caspian] setting: stadium [arena, etc]

PRE-DUEL [locked: Jadis + Allies]

♕PRE-DUEL [locked: Pevensies + Caspian] setting: stadium [private room]

♕PRE-DUEL [locked: Pevensies + Caspian] setting: stadium [private room]

♕PRE-DUEL [locked: Pevensies + Caspian] setting: stadium [private room]

♕PRE-DUEL [locked: Pevensies + Caspian] setting: stadium [private room]

As he fell, his face undefeated, his eyes still proud; Dream

♕PRE-DUEL [locked: Pevensies + Caspian] setting: stadium [private room]

♕PRE-DUEL [locked: Pevensies + Caspian] setting: stadium [private room]

Dream;

♕PRE-DUEL [locked: Pevensies + Caspian] setting: stadium [private room]

PRE-DUEL [locked: Jadis + Allies]

♕PRE-DUEL [locked: Pevensies + Caspian] setting: stadium [private room]

♕PRE-DUEL [locked: Pevensies + Caspian] setting: stadium [private room]

PRE-DUEL [locked: Jadis + Allies]

♕PRE-DUEL [locked: Pevensies + Caspian] setting: stadium [private room]

♕DUEL [public/open] setting: stadium [bleachers]

PRE-DUEL [locked: Jadis + Allies]

PRE-DUEL [locked: Jadis + Allies]

♕PRE-DUEL [locked: Pevensies + Caspian] setting: stadium [private room]

♕PRE-DUEL [locked: Pevensies + Caspian] setting: stadium [private room]