[ota] pride is not a substitute for knowing how to swim

[messire_messer]

Spades on the third floor of the east wing apartments would have woken to a passing pounding on each of their doors early in the morning. Raphael's already long gone before they've poked their heads through the doors to answer, tapping at any wooden furniture and practically singing as he goes.

Well. Not really singing. Maybe a bit of light-footedness, though.

Because it's the Day. The Day of his bridge being completed at last. The previous day had seen sunset with only a few parts left to be nailed into place. Raphael fully intends to impart it with all the ceremony that it deserves.

It's an impromptu party atmosphere. He hadn't intended there to be a much bigger celebration than himself and the people he'd roped into working on the bridge with him, but someone's brought food and there's beer from somewhere. Probably Ben. He'll have to remember to thank him later.

For now there's a jaunty pounding into place of nails and a small balancing act on the rails to proudly declare the bridge to the ruins "OPEN!"

Later he'll be soaked and miserable and have to plan fixing the bridge up from its sudden breaking and dropping him into the ocean. But after all, hubris affects even the worst of men.

[ooc: Minnie will be the one actually saving him, but everyone else can tag before or after.]

Comments

[rarelight]

She wraps her soggy shirt around his shoulders as she pulls him t lean against her. Looking around, she yells out for help to the people near the ruins, gratefully thanking those who come closer for their offers of sweatshirts and other cover-ups.

[messire_messer]

Some of the stronger men decide it best to carry him back to the shore instead of the ruins, despite the latter being nearer. Those who trust the rest of the bridge stay behind. They are not many.

Of course, once Rap's coughed everything out and is breathing properly and wearing at least one dry article of clothing, he mostly sits there feeling sorry for himself. The Chives Scallions are good at brooding.

[rarelight]

Minnie will slip up next to him when all the commotion has died down, hesitating before place a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?" She's still in her own soaked shirt, a shrug hanging loosely around her shoulders.

[messire_messer]

"I'm breathing. I'm not in the water any more. Surely that counts for all right." Certainly how he's hunched over and long-faced can't account for that.

[rarelight]

"It makes you... not drowning, I suppose. But... not quite alright."

[messire_messer]

The sound he makes isn't as watery as it might have been, but it's distinctly exasperated. With her, with himself, with everyone else, it's unclear. "Do you have any suggestions for that, then?"

[rarelight]

"If you're feeling... both emotionally and physically well, then I suppose that would count as alright."

[messire_messer]

The sigh would be out of frustration if he weren't already brooding. "Then I am not all right. And have no ability to change it."

[rarelight]

"The bridge... it can be fixed. I'm sure- you can find people who will help."

[messire_messer]

"Would they still? After that?" He flings out a passionate hand toward the bridge and its hole. It had been such a nice day and now... well.

[rarelight]

"Yes," she says with a nod. "I would, if I didn't have my job to attend to."

[messire_messer]

...unexpected. His funk is completely forgotten for the moment. "What, really?"

[rarelight]

"If I was not Head Butler... then yes. I would." She hesitates. "Is that surprising?"

[messire_messer]

"You've shown little reason to appreciate me as a person or an artist."