Though dragging Murderbot face-down across a street may be an amusing mental image for some, Mel'arnach does not seriously consider it as a potential alternative, and would surely find the concept mortifying. She has an objective in mind and she is focused. Perhaps it is that inveterate Sarghress stubbornness in action. She waits until it answers - Yes, monotone, betraying none of its apprehension - and then drops to one knee, supporting its back with one hand and tucking another under its legs. It seems like it's going to work until Mel'arnach stands up and the full extent of Murderbot's weight becomes very, very apparent.
Mel'arnach is not a slight woman, but she isn't as strong as her mother and she isn't strong enough to carry Murderbot. She made a mistake. Panic flashes over Mel'arnach's face as she struggles, trying to catch herself as her knees buckle. "I-!"
Murderbot will feel it through their sinuses first - a whirling gust of ozone blooming around them, something in the air shifting and Mel'arnach shifting with it. It seems for that instant as if the darkness of the surrounding street is bearing down on her and seeping into her skin, into the ends of her hair as it billows around her face, into her fingers as they cling desperately for purchase. There is a sizzle, that ozone stink lingering, and there stands a silhouette in the drow woman's place. Mel'arnach's eyes, as they look to Murderbot's face, are no longer purple, but beaming with a white glow, and behind that light, there is the suggestion of her pupils darting back and forth.
The good news is that Mel'arnach has summoned assistance. As her newly-black hair cascades behind her, it becomes apparent that they are now forming tendrils that are supporting Murderbot's weight.
Mel'arnach blinks, once, twice, not realizing that this was all probably very unusual and that Murderbot must be, to say the very fucking least, very confused. "Are you alright?" Then, in spite of herself, she laughs a little. "Perhaps I should have heeded your warning."
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Mel'arnach is not a slight woman, but she isn't as strong as her mother and she isn't strong enough to carry Murderbot. She made a mistake. Panic flashes over Mel'arnach's face as she struggles, trying to catch herself as her knees buckle. "I-!"
Murderbot will feel it through their sinuses first - a whirling gust of ozone blooming around them, something in the air shifting and Mel'arnach shifting with it. It seems for that instant as if the darkness of the surrounding street is bearing down on her and seeping into her skin, into the ends of her hair as it billows around her face, into her fingers as they cling desperately for purchase. There is a sizzle, that ozone stink lingering, and there stands a silhouette in the drow woman's place. Mel'arnach's eyes, as they look to Murderbot's face, are no longer purple, but beaming with a white glow, and behind that light, there is the suggestion of her pupils darting back and forth.
The good news is that Mel'arnach has summoned assistance. As her newly-black hair cascades behind her, it becomes apparent that they are now forming tendrils that are supporting Murderbot's weight.
Mel'arnach blinks, once, twice, not realizing that this was all probably very unusual and that Murderbot must be, to say the very fucking least, very confused. "Are you alright?" Then, in spite of herself, she laughs a little. "Perhaps I should have heeded your warning."