[Bollocks; as far as Rip’s concerned, Peggy’s got absolutely no one but herself to blame for what happens next. Oh, he hears her getting closer: with the way her heels clip-clop on every stair, it’s likely the whole damn mansion does. And though he does his best to pick up pace in response, eventually she does make her grab and her pull, right as they head into a turn that promises nothing but disaster for them. Really, it should have been easy to see where they’d end up--they, because Rip would not be going down alone in this venture, thank you very much.
He careens into her when she gets him off balance, overcompensating until there’s absolutely no hope of victory for any force beyond gravity. About the best he can do is keep the locket out of it all; he snaps it shut as he grips it tight, his other hand gripping not the rail but rather the offending party in this whole affair. Not that he knows what part of her he gets hold of—just that it’s enough to make sure they both end up in a heap on the ground, half-sliding, half-rolling down the stairs before they end up at the base of the next landing.]
…Excellent work, Miss Carter. [Rip says the words with a groan, his eyes pinched shut as he just lays there (sits there?) for a moment. There’s utterly no chance of knowing just which way is up just then, so he doesn’t try. Rather, he allows the world a few precious seconds to stop spinning quite so violently.
--Hopes, for the sake of not vomiting, that it might do so quickly.]
no subject
He careens into her when she gets him off balance, overcompensating until there’s absolutely no hope of victory for any force beyond gravity. About the best he can do is keep the locket out of it all; he snaps it shut as he grips it tight, his other hand gripping not the rail but rather the offending party in this whole affair. Not that he knows what part of her he gets hold of—just that it’s enough to make sure they both end up in a heap on the ground, half-sliding, half-rolling down the stairs before they end up at the base of the next landing.]
…Excellent work, Miss Carter. [Rip says the words with a groan, his eyes pinched shut as he just lays there (sits there?) for a moment. There’s utterly no chance of knowing just which way is up just then, so he doesn’t try. Rather, he allows the world a few precious seconds to stop spinning quite so violently.
--Hopes, for the sake of not vomiting, that it might do so quickly.]