The thrashing of water against rock, sounds of bird calls and the murmur of nature itself felt like a heavy cloak dragging the brunette down. The toe of her sneakers scuff against the rough concrete edges of the bridge.

The skin of her hands are raw and bloodied from scrambling up onto the ledge of the bridge. The dull throb of pain barely registers anymore at this point. Ophelia just finds her mind focused on the plunge.

Ophelia knows she's shaking, be it from the wind or her own fear- she's not sure which is the deciding factor. It doesn't really matter anymore.

Ophelia stares down at the dark waters, it isn't the sea, but the woman feels like she can't walk another step. She just has to leap, she has to go. It can all end so easily.

She was too weak to even make it to the sea of black tears itself. She laughs bitterly to herself as tears run down her cheeks.

Everything is heavy, so heavy, dragging her further down. She feels like she can't even breath anymore.

"Step back." The commanding voice startles Ophelia, the brunette looks over her shoulder in bleary confusion. A fabled Zaulia warrior stands behind her, grim-faced and serious even with the layers of paint covering her features. "You need not consider that option."

#####

There were mute nods of understanding at the command. Each woman had played their part in observing the meeting. Rima's gaze drifts between the women gathered alighting upon Zana.

"My Ears."

"There were no outright lies spoken." Zana's voice is crisp, well articulated as she held the queen's gaze. "There was untruths spoken under their natural tones about their plans. Misdirections attempted to try and gain your approval. Neither are outright lying to us, but have no concept of what we want to hear as warriors.

A trust, as well as tension, lies between the two leaders. A familiarity bred of time together. I could hear fondness in how they spoke one another's names. The man was cocky, impulsive, on the edge of something. The woman was frustrated by his responses and trying to win favor. Honeyed words with the intent of making promises likely unable to be kept."

Rima nods slowly, her gaze turning to the next woman, "My eyes."

Aamani spoke with no real preamble, calm and to the point. "Their body language was tense, anxious. The man was fostering a false sense of jovial behavior to hide how he was feeling from us. He was all sharp lines trying to be relaxed. The woman was keeping him tethered to the land, lest he bobble through the air like a gull lost to the winds. Both stood closely together forming a unified wall, with closed off body speak. A body cannot lie even if a mouth can. They are defensive, afraid, worried. There is more happening than either are saying."

Brauma spoke without prompt, quick in word and deed. "They lingered with each touch, drawing support from one another. Aamani's words are true, The blonde woman kept the man anchored with touches to remind him he must be grounded. The two need one another but are in disagreement in how to proceed. Disquiet is brewing amongst these people. The woman was quick to cut him off with her hands, a touch, or a look if she felt he was pushing in the wrong direction. While trust is there, its weakened by unspoken things."

"So my touch has spoken." Rima mused, undeterred by Brauma's quick addition. "Now, my heart, speak."

Ophelia frowned somewhat. "Neither of them have a plan, at all. They're winging it completely. All the observations are pointing to that very obviously." She nods respectfully to the three other warriors present, "They feel it is our obligation to join them because we too are human. They hope that will be enough to push us into saying yes." In another life Ophelia would have agreed with that notion whole heartedly.

"They believe in their cause." Ophelia still wanted to believe somehow. The conflict in her heart made the woman want to scream at the sky. "But are afraid of falling apart completely, they want more structure, more people on their side, but are certain they cannot win without us.

Their leadership is breaking down due to severe losses and need a win, even if it is just adding us to their ranks." She toyed with her spear idly. "Their forces are formidable when given enough motivation, but their leaders are weakening and causing cracks to form in the idealism that began their rebellion. It could go either way now."

Rima gave a thoughtful sound at that, "Thank you, all of you. I will contemplate this further." She motioned the women to follow her back to camp.

###

Ophelia exhaled lowly, eyes fluttering shut as fingers list through her hair. With the fall of night came the comfort and privacy of their tent. Rima was the steady comforting presence now, bringing Ophelia down from the rest of the day.

"Are you still considering their offer?" Ophelia questions after a moment, eyes half closed at the feeling of Rima coaxing her fingers through the short dark brown strands.

Ophelia just squirmed closer to snuggle against Rima. She still needed to wash her make up off, but… she was so comfortable. "Or should I not ask since its chief business?"

"I am not in my chiefly attire, so you may ask." Rima stated with a low amused sound. "I am still debating to some extent. It is not Zaulia business, that much is obvious. I try to stay out of non Zaulia business." The tribe was closed off to outsiders for a variety of reasons.

"I feel like there is a but in the air…" Ophelia prompted, her eyes finally falling closed.

"To some regard, I know with the gates have been thrown open, now demons are actively attacking this side of the continent." Rima nuzzled into Ophelia's forehead gently. "If they fall, there is a possibility we could as well."

"True enough- the demons will be on a warpath…" Ophelia opened her mouth to speak further before the bell outside of their tent was rung thrice rapidly. Both women jerked up from their comfortable lounge in bed. Rima was up before Ophelia was, throwing the tent flap open.

A wild eyed zaulia warrior clutched onto her spear. Black blood splattered against her bare skin, her makeup smudged wildly. The call horn hung from her hip. "My queen! The Doom!"

Rima snarled, "The sea?! It can't be uncapped?" She shook her head, knowing now wasn't the time to ponder details. "Rally the troops! Quickly! Formation 8."

"Of course." The woman fumbled with the horn, blowing loudly into it. Rima snapped back into the tent grabbing her gear, quick to change regardless of anyone seeing it. Ophelia was already on her feet, yanking on her own gear. Makeup was cast aside in favor of quickness.

Rima only glanced up from what she was doing to speak directly to Ophelia now. "I ask of you a great favor, make sure Ironheade warriors stay out of our way." The short haired woman let her discomfort and surprise roll away to simply nod. They didn't need to discuss it any further than that.

Ophelia grabbed Rima's spear from the holster on the tent wall, chucking it at her wife, "Go!"

Rima needed no further encouragement to run out of the tent. The camp was soon alive with chaos of people, metal beasts and the undead lurching.

Ophelia hated to leave, but knew what her duty was. She grabbed her own weapons before taking off into the night. She found her metal beast easily enough, taking the drowsy cat from her pen. The low clicking noise from the back of her throat hurried the beast along.

It hurt her heart to run from her home in peril, but Rima needed her to keep things orderly. If Ironheade tried to help and got caught in the crossfire that would only cause more problems.

The fires of Ironheade's campfire were easy enough to pick out in the darkness of the jungle. It lead her across the bridge in the darkness. The the lurching dead was equally easy to see once she crossed over, the doom were attacking the tour bus. Ironheade was in chaos just as much as the Zaulia. Ophelia could pick out headbangers trying to mosh around men with shovels. Razor Girls shot at walking heads, as bassists struggled to heal their friends. Eddie and Lita were back to back, swarmed by the dead.

Ophelia swore, speeding up her run as she switched from her spear to her swords. The familiar grip felt better in her hand as she cut her way through the undead with blade and fire.

The sudden burst of heat and light caught Ironheade's attention to some regard, it certainly caught the ire of the undead. The horde nearest to her turned to attack, only to be consumed by the fire bursting forth from her beast.

"Hell yeah! Fiiiireee!"

"Thank Ormagoden's tusks, some help."

"Haha, buurrrn!"

The cheering made Ophelia wince, they would and could turn on her so easily- the thought is dropped in favor of burning the next undead. Battle comes first. Her own emotional fuckery was going to have to come second, especially given the undead were starting to lose interest in Ironheade. A good portion were coming towards her now. Ophelia swung her blade to try and discourage any grabby undead hands trying to pull her down off of her perch.

Freed from direct attack, the headbangers regrouped with Eddie on hand- they moved forward to cover her side, knocking people aside. Lita directed the bassists with quick sharp commands, Razor Girls rallied around the healers, taking shots. Roadies crept up around the healers and Razor Girls keeping the undead back. They were regrouping, regaining ground and lessening the horde.

Ophelia tightened her grip on the hilt of her blade, swinging again sending an undead man's head flying.

"Haha, fuckin' sweet!"

Eddie's voice cheering her on felt like he was twisting the knife in her gut. Ophelia made sure her expression was as blank as she could make it as she cut another undead man down, then another, and another. The black blood was staining her skin, her blade- she couldn't care about it now.

She focuses on fighting, beheading more of the undead as she goes. Falling into the rhythm of battle, only the thumping of her own heartbeat in her ears. She's trying not to focus on who she's been battling with.

The sound of the horn in the distance only stilled Ophelia's furious swipes. She turned back to glance over her shoulder, able to pick up its meaning. The battle back at camp is ceasing now.

She pulls her beast back, her gaze sweeping across the landscape before her. The hordes had been cut down immensely with only a few causalities amongst Ironheade. Ophelia wordlessly turns her beast around, heading back across the bridge. Ophelia relaxed as she started to put distance between herself and Ironheade.

"Hey, wait!" The brunette woman winced openly now. She glanced back seeing Eddie of all people calling out to her.

Eddie jogged after her, barely catching up. "Hey! I don't know your name, but, thanks."

Ophelia didn't reply, refusing to make eye contact, hurrying her beast as she gave a sharp nod. The metal beast went from an amble to hurrying forward across the bridge leaving Eddie behind. Ophelia refused to look behind herself, instead focusing forward trying to calm her heart.

He still had no idea who she was. Maybe that was for the better?