2026-02-16: A Bridge Too Far From The Others
- Cutscene: A Bridge Too Far From The Others
- Cast: Isabeau Fontaine
- Where: The Moonlight Bridge
- OOC Date: 2026-02-16
- IC Date: Wed, Sep 26 2012 (Dark Hour)
- Summary: Isabeau conquers the Moonlight Bridge... but no one's there to applaud.
The Dark Hour's fallen on Iwatodai, and there's an invader, there, now. As a green moon silhouettes the Moonlight Bridge, a girl stands, before it. She wears a longcoat over one arm, a vest and a dozen pouches at her belt, tights and boots -- plus her ruby knife.
"You're mine," Isabeau vows, in French, as she jumps up to grasp at a railing. She swings herself until her leg is able to hook around the strut. She navigates the massive hulking steel as much with those powerful legs as with her arms; she's a girl, and her lower-body strength can't be underestimated. At times her climb seems fluid, but look closely, and there are little stops, places where she tests her grip or her footing.
Even a dozen metres up or more, she doesn't slip. This path was never built for human traversal; regardless, she balances across beams and clambers over diagonal cross-bracing as if it were as natural as breathing.
When she comes to the top of the bridge, she didn't come the way she was supposed to.
"Ha HA! Did you see that?!"
... but no one did.
Isabeau looks out, over this vast vista she's conquered... and feels her victory tainted by the mocking of her peers. Even up here, she can feel the sting of Yukari's hand... "... whatever!" She huffs, haughty. "I'd like to see her achieve this! Those weak little... Kanae suits a crowd like that perfectly! I don't need them. I don't need anyone!"
She scowls, crouching on her horizontal beam. "If you could rely on other people so easily..."
But something gentle as grief breaks across her expression, and instead of finishing her sentence, she just murmurs,
"... mom..."
No one's up here, so no one can tell her it wasn't raining.
But this is the Dark Hour, and Shadows can taste those salt-stained regrets in the air. As one formless shade glorps up the railing, Isabeau straightens, grasping her knife and turning it to a spear with a toggle latch. "You want a piece of me?!" She yells, as that Shadow resolves into a raven, and three more follow its example. "Fine, then -- COME!"
If only someone were there to see the grace and skill she employed, thinking always of her balance as she plunged her spear deep into those Shadows, pinning bird to steel. But when she rises... still, she's alone.
"Don't you forget," she chastises the place where the Shadows once were, "I'm the best."
But if a girl is exceptional when no one's around, who can hear her...?
... what matters is that Isabeau knows she's special.
And it matters that she gets down to ground level without breaking anything, either.