Limitless (RP Excerpt)

Tris

Tristine glared up at the lantern bracket in the wall. She clenched and unclenched her fists, deliberating. It wasn’t that far out of reach…

She walked over to the row of elegant ballroom parlor chairs, wooden heel clicking on marble tiles. She grabbed one by the arm and dragged it across the floor, pushing it flush against the wall underneath the lamp.

Okay, easy does it.

She looked up again, frowning at the ornate sconce that held her walking cane captive. Well… arguably, she’d banished it up there herself, but she hadn’t expected it to go flying out of her hands so energetically. At least it hadn’t struck and broken any of the mirrors along the wall nearby. A hundred years of bad luck was a stiff price to pay for a few minutes of impatience.

So is a broken neck, she thought dourly, eyeing the chair cushion. But the chairs were sturdy pieces of furniture, and barely fifteen years old if she was remembering correctly. She trusted her own balance well enough, and it wouldn’t take long to snatch the cane down from its infuriating perch.

She planted her good leg on the seat, then hoisted herself up and braced her arms on the wall for stability. There, perfect. She still had to stretch a little, but she could just barely snag the end of the cane.

Darshil

Darshil jogged up the estate steps, hoping to make up a little lost time. He’d gotten caught up in a discussion about repairing some of the weathering in the Mandir’s perimeter wall, and found himself running a little late for his promised appointment. He had grabbed a carriage to the estate, not wanting to tire himself out with running before he even arrived, but now that he was there he made his way quickly to the familiar mirror room, hoping he was no more than fifteen minutes or so behind.

“Sorry I’m late!” He said as he entered the room, “I was just…”

Darshil trailed off, stopping a couple of steps into the room as he looked towards the woman standing stretched up on a chair at the side wall. “Uh… are you having some trouble, Minister?” He asked, a confused look on his face.

Tris

Tris froze, eyes wide and hands flat against the wall for balance as she flinched in surprise. “Oh! I’m… no I just needed to… try a new, uhh... warmup stretch…”

She evened out her footing again, then stretched up towards the cane. She pinched it between index and middle finger and tried to shake it free, swore under her breath, then swatted it. It tipped off of the iron curlicues and fell to the floor with a tremendous clatter.

“Ahah, don’t know how that got there.”

Darshil

He walked towards her as she tried to protest, fixing her with a look somewhere between abject disbelief and amusement.  Though as her cane clattered to the ground, he moved to retrieve it.

“Hmm, a warmup stretch, huh?” He hummed as he picked the cane up off the ground. “Funny, by the look of it, I could have sworn that you must have been spinning this,” He gave the cane a little twirl in his hands, “And perhaps it slipped out of your fingers and got stuck. But what do I know?” He asked, looking up at her with a rather mirthful gaze.

Tris

Tris snorted. “What? Don’t be silly...”

She moved her prosthetic so she could lower down on the mechanical knee, then shuffled off the seat and back onto the floor. She straightened, smoothing her skirt, and looked up at Darshil with a single arched eyebrow. “Maybe I threw it up there on purpose. Wasn’t an easy shot.”

Darshil

“Oh so you did throw it?” He grinned, “And here I thought you didn’t know how it got there.”

Tris

She blinked. “I… _dammit.”