[It's lengths away when she sees it start — really start, in last dying lights of the pool. Lights flicker on from various sources, her own omni-tool flashlight blazing to life as she runs. Lavellan, who shouldn't even be here, spilling his own blood on the cave's floor, was attempting to talk sense into Chara — knife and all.
The slash is swift, fast — the arc, low, promising a fatal finish. There's no time to disable, now. Only time enough to block.
And so Chara's blade comes down squarely on Shepard's armored gauntlet, cutting deep, impossibly deep into her vocation stripe, still going — through silicon carbide and ceramic plating, hitting her own heavy weave with a grunt of a grimace that she barely contains. The trail of the weapon fades, blood pooling around the blade.
But now at least, she can disarm them. Twisting her body, wrenching it free of the knife, she pins Chara's arms in a style familiar, so familiar.
no subject
The slash is swift, fast — the arc, low, promising a fatal finish. There's no time to disable, now. Only time enough to block.
And so Chara's blade comes down squarely on Shepard's armored gauntlet, cutting deep, impossibly deep into her vocation stripe, still going — through silicon carbide and ceramic plating, hitting her own heavy weave with a grunt of a grimace that she barely contains. The trail of the weapon fades, blood pooling around the blade.
But now at least, she can disarm them. Twisting her body, wrenching it free of the knife, she pins Chara's arms in a style familiar, so familiar.
It wasn't so very long ago.]