[Sandbox] Hammer Academy - Training Rooms

[Rainbae]

Character Name: Koko Gero
Date | Time: 12.20 | ~6:20pm
Location: Showers
Wearing: Nothing -> Undies -> Jumpsuit
Tagging | Estelle @Dove 
Koko smiled widely as Estelle laughed when she ruffled her hair. How easily had this seemingly bad interaction turned to geniality. That thought sparked something really good in Koko. She liked being able to get along with people. She liked being able to diffuse situations like that. If only she’d been able to do the same with Maria. She sighed a bit thinking about that as she fished her clothes out of her locker. Friends was still a topic and a category of life that she just wasn’t fully able to wrap her head around. But she was trying and she was happy that it seemed she’d succeeded here today. She pulled her sports bra over her head and fought with her wild hair to not get stuck under the straps. Koko quickly slipped on a pair of panties with little narwhals on them as Estelle was looping her bag onto her back.

Koko was about to say something smug when she was taken aback at the flurry of compliments that came from the girl. She blinked several times, not really sure how to react. Sheepishly she ran a hand through her still damp hair and scratched her scalp. “Well shit. Thanks I ‘spose. Ain’t no one ever said somethin’ like that to my face ‘fore in all honesty. Least not ‘bout this part-a my life an’ all. I appreciate that.” She chuckled a bit at her own embarrassment before sighing and pulling her hair back to wrangle the crazy mop that it was into a messy flared ponytail. She nodded to Estelle at the mention of having each other’s backs. “We’re sympatico on that point little miss. I got yours if you’ve got mine, simple as.” She offered Estelle a two finger salute and a, “Definitely will, I’m pretty hard to miss.” before she watched her dash off out of the changing rooms.

Left alone in the slightly foggy humid room Koko paused as she was changing. She ran her hands over her curves and dips once more. She wasn’t trying to pleasure herself but just feel. Like she was considering what she was. She hadn’t been made to think about this kind of stuff for quite a while. She moved to a mirror set up on the far wall of the changing room. She looked over all the pieces of her, flesh, steel and otherwise. It was hard to see things the way Estelle had seen. Brave? She thought. Maybe. But only in that she was afforded the chance to be who she wanted to be and she took it. Without being her father’s daughter she wondered if she would be the same person she was today. Seconds passed as she stared at herself before realizing she wasn’t going to find an answer to the question. She quickly suited up into her jumpsuit and decided those were thoughts for a different Koko.

-End Scene- 

[shengami]

Character Name: Chee Tortious
Date | Time: 12.22 | 5:05pm
Location: Hammer Academy Training Gyms
Wearing: Tracksuit, comfy shoes, Darklash is carried
Tagging | Mentioning: @Aethyrium /Doya | Cub, Velvet
Note: If At First...

12.19 - Self-Directed Sparring Time - Hammer Academy Training Rooms

"Hey! Ease up, dude!"

"I said I wanted ta go all out."

"No-Wild-One-cursed-duh. I think you split my lip. I thought you wanted practice closing against a ranged target."

Chee frowned and shook his head, "No. I said I'm tryin ta learn how ta use Darklash."

The other Silenus stared at him for a long, silent moment, "Uh, yeah? That's why it has that ropey bit? Right? To fight at distance? That's part of it, dude. That-"

"No, I'm not dere yet. I need ta learn da blade."

Cub stared at him like he'd just used a fork to eat soup, "You wanted to practice melee against me? The guy with the guns? The fuck, dude? Your head on straight? Fucking-A. Brother of Light save me from idiots and jocks!"

Chee grimaced recalling how angry Cub had gotten. It had taken two days and a whole pack of pudding snacks to apologize to him. Upon reflection, it hadn't been the smartest move. But he needed something and he didn't know what. It had been his instinct to go to Cub. Koko might have helped, but she was no good in combat. Even with her new weapons. Not really. He'd also spent the afternoon yesterday helping Cub practice keeping melee specialists at range. That had been good work. Then, that night...

12.22 - Lunch Time - Hammer Academy Training Rooms

"CheeEEEeee!"

He stopped mid-strike and hopped back a couple paces. He watched as Velvet peeled one palm away from her quarterstaff and blew on a raw palm. He frowned, "What?"

"I can't keep up."

"But-"

She snapped that look at him that seemed reserved for him, Cub, and Artanis. The one that said he was being a brat. He swallowed his tongue. "Chee. Brother. I'm good. But , Brother of Light, you're coming at me like a rabid Ursoc!"

"Hey!" He stepped forward then back again as she sent another look. He grinned, "I'm tryin ta get better."

"Yeah, Cub told me. But Chee, I don't think I'm helping you."

He frowned at that. His ears flicked. Darklash went limp in his hand. His ears drooped. Velvet's eyes rolled, "The Infinite Black! Chee, you want help from a pure melee specialist. I can keep up with you, push back, but I can't teach you how to use a blade."

He looked down at Darklash. It flicked from forward grip to reverse grip. "And that! Why do you use it like that? It's not a knife! It's too long." He frowned at her. She mimed the reverse grip.

"How else am I suppose ta use it?"

"Like a sword! Duh!"

He looked his confusion at her then looked at Darklash. It was a Masamune blade. He flicked it back to forward grip and mimed stabbing a couple times. Velvet frowned, "That's still not how you hold a sword. It looks like your trying to spear someone's kidney like that. Here." She came over and grabbed his hands to start moving his fingers. A few minutes of confusion and cursing later he held the weapon awkwardly. She frowned at him and threw her hands up. "I don't know. You see a sword in my hands? Yoken taught me the basics, but not much else." Chee frowned. Then backed up a bit as a light came into Velvet's eyes.

She grabbed his hand around Darklash and grinned. She pulled him in close. Close enough he saw only her eyes. Her grin was a little sadistic. "You need Doya. Yeah, if anyone can beat the basic of swords through your thick skull, it's her. She's got the patience, at least. Oh, don't frown. I love you, but you and new ideas are like cats and water."

12.22 - Self-Directed Sparring Time - Hammer Academy Training Rooms

He swallowed. There'd been more after that. It had taken her most of the lunch period to talk him into it. It wasn't that the idea of sparring with Doya wasn't appealing. He'd wanted to do it since he started at Hammer. Her and several others were on a list taped above his bunk. Only a few names were crossed off. He'd left off challenging people habitually when he was learning from Shir. But Velvet wanted him to ask her to give him a lesson. He thought about it; it was like when he helped Thessa with her fighting style. Maybe?

Well, here he was now. He looked across the room to where MoCKerY trained. Velvet and Cub both caught his eyes and jerked their chins at Doya who was maintaining her equipment. Artanis and Azir were off to another side moving through forms. Swallowing hard. he blanched at the two and then started toward the woman. Challenge someone to fight, he was all confidence. Ask for advice or help, he was useless.

He grit his teeth; he didn't back down.

"Uh, hi, Doya? Hi. Chee. Er, you know dat." He stammered to a stop and looked at Velvet who rolled her eyes. She motioned pushing him forward. He sucked in a breath and pulled Darklash so she could see it, "Everyone says you're da best swordswoman in our year. Maybe in da whole Academy? I was wondering if you might show me a ting or two? I- I never used a sword before." He twisted the weapon in his hand so he could flick a glance at the maker's mark Shir had once pointed out to him. Was this a step? Did this move him closer to being worthy again? Of that mark, of the man that showed it to him? Something buzzing burned a hole in his diaphragm. He looked to his friends.

Cub and Velvet were grinning and giving him a thumbs up. He laughed nervously as his tail swished. He really loved them.

[Aethyrium]

Character Name: Doya Yama
Date | Time: December 22nd | 5:05pm
Location: Training Gym
Wearing: Simple jeans, sweater, and cardigan
Tagging | Mentioning: Chee |
Self directed sparring was an odd class for Doya. When it came to one-on-one dueling she was a league above her classmates. Most of Doya’s true practice came from making strides with professors - Silk, Jericho, and the mentors. Xiratana had been amazing in that regard. But they weren’t always available, especially during class times. So most of the time she spent here was pushing her teammates and assisting them, or others, where she could. Mockery as a whole certainly benefited from having her to spar against as a unit. But when Chee approached, she was going through simple motions with Excalibur. The weapon might as well have been part of her, and yet she never stopped going through the basics, understanding and reinforcing her fundamentals. Right then, however, the motions were about ensuring that the weapon was transforming at peak efficiency. The sword collapsing and morphing into its longer javelin form. It changed back, and she did it again while moving, pausing when she heard her name. “Hm?” Excalibur was back in its blade form, and she turned to him, holding it at her side. Ceridwyn was strapped to her back. She smiled warmly, “I do,” said with the smallest hint of a giggle.

There was certainly no unfamiliarity with a bit of hero-worshiping. Doya knew the reputation that she had well. The way that the level of fame was a boon, but also a curse. She didn’t let it get to her, though. “Looks to me like you’ve used a sword plenty,” Doya said, glancing down to his weapon. She wasn’t one to disparage anyone. Doya had been, since day one, intent only to lift people up. Their efforts, no matter how small, were always enough and worthy of praise. And she had never been shy about assisting. “I would be honored to help you. Let me just tell Azir.” Doya motioned for him to wait, and quickly went to her team captain. While she could certainly spend this class doing whatever she wanted, and no one was going to question it, Doya respected the man too much to simply vanish.

It didn’t take but a moment though, and Doya returned to Chee and led him away from the others back toward the door. This room had Mockery and Xiphod in it, and while she and Chee would fit, if he wanted some dedicated attention, somewhere a bit more private might make sense. “So Chee,” she looked at him as they passed into the hall for another training room, “What seems to be the issue? I’ve seen you fight before, and it doesn’t seem like you're in need of any pointers. I heard you fought Shir and lasted, what, six seconds? That’s already very good.”

[shengami]

Character Name: Chee Tortious
Date | Time: 12.22 | 5:05pm
Location: Hammer Academy Training Gyms
Wearing: Tracksuit, comfy shoes, Darklash is carried
Tagging | Mentioning: @Aethyrium /Doya | Cub, Velvet
Note: If At First... (2)
Chee watched Doya flow for a few moments after she acknowledged his request. Her skill was palpable. He noted that she was perfecting the basics. He smiled; his ears flicked in appreciation. Doya's skill had long been apparent to Chee. It wasn't just the rumors he'd based his assessment off of. He'd watched all the squires and not too few of the upperclassmen either.

He laugh was enough to disarm some of his anxiety. His tail swished more.

He blinked in the face of the word 'honor' though. His head tilted to the side then the other. "Why-" Then his bit his lips. His ears flicked rapdily several times then he nodded slowly. His face split into a strangely closed grin, "Dat's great! No problem. I'll just stretch some."

But as Doya moved off, he followed her form briefly before twirling Darklash in his palm. The idea that it was an 'honor' to help him weighed on him. "Nah, da honor's got ta be helping. Not me." He looked around but relaxed as no one was close enough to hear him. He clutched the blade and then dropped into a fighting stance to thrust with it the way he'd seen Dolly do. But Dolly's weapon had always been a light fencing sabre. Chee knew there was a difference, but not what. He turned to regard Doya coming back and looked at the warrior's weapon. It, too, was vastly different from his own, but he suspected Doya would know the difference.

He cocked his head and nodded as Doya talked, "Ya, sure. I'm a scrapper. I'm not goin ta play dat down. Maybe just a bit ahead of da curve?" He flipped Darklash end for end and then once more then spun it in his palm. "And I know how to use a blade. Sure, Ya." He pivoted and squared off against a shadow opponent. He made a series of slowed-down attacks, "Dat's da liver. Da femoral's down here. Here or here's da lungs. Dere's da heart. Dis one'd cut da tendon in da elbow. If I get round back, I can go for da kidneys or spleen or hamstring." He stood and looked at the blade. He twisted it so it caught the light. The puddle of white slid along the black surface.

He sighed and scratched at his temple then nodded and tapped his head, "It's up here. Dat's where I'm interested in changin tings. I want ta be a champion. Ta do dat, I need ta change my brains a bit. Stop, er-" He hit that frustrating wall of words again. "I have a sword and I use it. But dat's not da same as swordsmanship, is it? I don't tink of Darklash as a sword. But I want ta. I want ta be able to fence wit it, improve my defense some, flow wit it like you do Excalibur. Stop relying entirely on speed, aggression, and audacity. Dey always worked for me, until Adir. But dat's not exactly da reason I came ta you. I want technique and- ta shift my perception a bit?" His ears flickered and he waggled his head. His thumb played with the ring that unlocked Darklash's rope-dart mode. He'd made the choice to learn each aspect of the weapon in more detail. He wasn't Doya; pure swordsmanship wasn't his goal. Darklash was more than that. But he needed to learn how to use that part of it. "Might be, den, I can last ten whole seconds. Should I get anoder chance." His ears flattened briefly then he sighed.

"But da technical and practical improvement isn't da primary goal. It'll be nice and good for da champion I aim ta be. It's dat change in perception I'm after. But... I'm not smart like some. I can't make dose changes witout da physical part. Dat's just how I work. I gotta carve it into my muscles and bones and skull. So, I tought dat swordsmanship is da way ta do dat. For a start." He blinked. He felt the ache, the desire to evolve, change, grow. He felt the need to be better. Images of Senja, Shir, gRAVIty, the Headsmen, Koko, Roar all flicked through his mind. They depended on him. Thessa's words echoed in his ears. He couldn't die yet. he could never let what happened with Adir happen again. He also couldn't run again. He nodded firmly and looked to Doya with resolution.

[Aethyrium]

Character Name: Doya Yama
Date | Time: December 22nd | 5:05pm
Location: Training Gym
Wearing: Simple jeans, sweater, and cardigan
Tagging | Mentioning: Chee |
She certainly wasn’t going to tell him that he wasn’t ahead of the curve. And not simply because it wasn’t in her nature to put anyone down - if she were to offer that sort of information, it would have been through a much more positive lens. But much more in this case because she thought he was right, at least, to some extent. He wasn’t, by her estimation, ahead of the curve so much as he had a natural - or previously trained - aptitude that made him slightly better.Among the people that she’d have deemed generally equal to him, he was probably behind the curve a bit - no doubt attributed to missing parts of time at Hammer. Over a greater period of time though, that distinction would become more and more fuzzy. Maybe that distinction didn’t matter, she thought, nodding to him as he explained.

Watching him mime attacks, two things become immediately obvious to her. The first was that Chee must have been trained to handle bandits, marauders, and bad actors who were normal. The unsoul trained, and non-Hollow. This information that he had was good, and things known to her, but in a fight against those capable of generating a Soul shield, it was largely useless from a tactical perspective. By the time one could make use of those things, the fight was likely to already be over. And against a Hollow it was entirely meaningless, their bodies simply didn’t work that way. The second might have been more important for the task at hand though, and that was the way Chee used his weapon was akin to a dagger. The only reason she had questioned that before was because it seemed inefficient to her, making use of the weapon in a way that it was clearly not designed for. But Chee made it work, and the styles of Champions - and those who were up and coming - were harder to evaluate. Still that first one nagged at her. If that was how he saw battle, and if that was how he showed his understanding of fighting, it seemed more than likely that it was, Chee was starting on the backfoot in any fight meaningful to his skill.

The white gleam caught her attention, “Well, understanding vulnerabilities is an important part of any fight.” He had that right! And she followed the gesture to his mental indication. It seemed he understood too. The more he spoke, the more clear things became and she understood what it was that he wanted. He seemed to recognize that he was leaving things on the table. But her thoughts jarred at the mention of Adir. Doya looked ahead, recalling that encounter. Stopping him from running Chee and Thessa over had been the easy part, what had come next had shaken her too. She recalled the arm numbing, thunderous force that had rattled her entire skeleton when Adir’s mighty, earthen fist had slammed into Ceridwyn. And at the end of the day, she hadn’t stopped him, so much as delayed him. That didn’t sit with her, but she wasn’t going to forget it either.

Technique and perception. Doya blinked away the memory. It wasn’t important. No one had come to check on her after the fact, and if it had mattered they would have. That too didn’t bother her - it was normal, expected - so she wasn’t going to bog this down with such a memory. “I think I understand,” she said quieter, as they hit another door and she opened it for them to enter, “We’ll get you to ten seconds in no time!” Maybe. She didn’t want to undersell Shir, but if that was his goal then why not?

Peeking inside, the room was empty and that would serve their purposes well. Doya headed in first, pausing only a few feet from the door. “May I see Darklash, Chee?” She asked, holding out both of her hands for it to be set in them. Once she had it, Doya spent a moment weighing it. It was surprisingly light, she could see why he fought with it the way he did. Doya’s understanding of weapons wasn’t quite like Shir’s, it was somehow more intimate. Shir had understood the weapon because he was familiar and used things like it. He had the skill and knowledge to adapt and take advantage of it. But Doya touched Darklash like it was brand new to her. Because it was. As was any sword, any weapon, different from all others like it. There was, in her experience, no two weapons that were perfectly identical. They had different weights, imperfections, edges, balances. So she handled it like a lover. Stroking along it and allowing it to speak to her. Doya wasn’t the weapon master that Shir was, but she was a warrior with a natural understanding of these things. And at the end of the day, a sword was a sword. Doya let it spin in her hand. Rolling it over itself, then twirling it. She found its balance point. “This blade is incredibly well made,” she commented, thumb moving over the rope dart release. Turning from him, she clicked it and allowed it to detach. There was a small jerk in the extension, it wasn’t perfectly seamless. Her eyes scanned the length, and she understood its reach, its functions. Even without practice, the weapon told her what it was capable of. “It suits you.” She smiled, recoiling the hard light chain, and handing it back to Chee.

Doya motioned for him to follow a little deeper, toward the center of the room. Turning back to face him, she drew Excalibur, and then sat crossing her legs and laying the weapon across her lap. She brushed her fingers across the flat. “Where I am from, the sword is the first weapon that children are taught to fight with.” Her other hand ghosted the hilt, curling around the pommel and ever so lightly touching it. “It is the embodiment of humanity's unwavering determination to stand vigilant against the Hollow. It is a representation of an indomitable spirit, and our readiness to defend our homes against those that would seek to harm it. It is encouragement to tackle our problems, and our fears, head on.”

Reaching behind herself, Doya pulled Ceridwyn from her back and lay it atop Excalibur. Her hands lifted and drifted along the smooth, tight circular edge of the shield. “The shield is a symbol of defiance against the Hollow, and is a tangible barrier between the forces of life, and those of death. It is a bulwark against our enemies' insidious influence, and reminds us that there is hope amidst despair. It represents our resilience, and encourages us to never shy away from defending our homes and loved ones.”

Her hands settled, resting atop her shield. “Individually, each is admirable on its own, but flawed. But when wielded together, the sword and shield form a formidable union that embodies the balance between strength and protection, aggression and defense. They signify a holistic approach needed to combat the Hollow. The courage to face danger directly, tempered by the wisdom to protect and defend what is most precious.” She looked up from the weapons and smiled at Chee, her head very slightly leaning to one side, “Your shield isn’t physical, it is your speed. But if you truly wish to change your perception, you must understand something deeper than the weapon.” It was a lesson Doya had learned - was still learning - from the moment she could hold a blade. “So Chee, why do you fight?”

[shengami]

Character Name: Chee Tortious
Date | Time: 12.22 | 5:05pm
Location: Hammer Academy Training Gyms
Wearing: Tracksuit, comfy shoes, Darklash is carried
Tagging | Mentioning: @Aethyrium /Doya |  Velvet, Shir, Lindon, Senja, Yoken Daobi
Note: If At First... (3)
Chee was noting the appraising look in Doya's face as they discussed combat when he saw her eyes go vacant. A quick mental check and he gasped lightly as he recalled the end of the Adir fight. His cheeks warmed. He had been focused on his feelings during that fight; he'd forgotten that Doya had rescued them and gave them the moment and momentum to capture Mila. He felt a bit of shame that he hadn't considered that. Apprehension and bile flooded up his throat as worry blossomed in his head that he'd made another faux pas with a valued friend.

Then she was back and the moment seemed to break. He grinned at her comment and nodded enthusiastically. Part of him quailed at the notion of asking Shir for any such rematch, but the evolution that ten seconds represented harmonized with him. He blinked, ears twitching, and then spun the blade to offer it hilt first.

"It is-" He hesitated just a tiny second. He needed to stop holding this close like it belonged to him, "Speakin of tumpins I got. Dis weaponsmith, Senja Tsuedan, she whooped me but good wit her hammers. I recommend it. But she confirmed dat's a Masamune blade. So, ya, it's well-made. For sure." He grinned a bit sheepishly at Doya. He assumed that the skilled warrior might be able to do something with that knowledge. Or, if not, it represented him not guarding the knowledge. His eyes snapped to Darklash as the hard-light chain reeled in. It was a familiar sound, but it was odd not to feel the slight recoil of it at the same time. He chuckled at the odd sensation.

Then they were entering a private room and sitting down. He frowned as that didn't make sense to him; he wanted to practice. His jaw dropped ready to question, then it snapped shut as she started talking. His furrowed brows slowly relaxed. "Kids? Fightin?" He frowned recalling the darker moments of his childhood. It was an era of his life that few of the people in his life now had access to. He Hummed and focused as Doya continued. His ears were alert, swiveling.

He listened to her ideas; they rattled in his skull like lumps of gold ore. His ears flattened and rose to attention at various points. His tail flicked along the matt behind him. It took him a second to start to understand why all those ideas attached to swords-culture. Then she was adding shields. And he struggled to understand how this applied to him. Was she saying he ought to get a shield? He weighed Darklash and imagined a buckler or targe in his off hand. It was hard to imagine. He heft the imaginary shield and moved it this way and that. He looked up when she said his shield was speed. His jaw dropped and an 'ah' of awareness leaked out of him. He tilted his head and thought about it. He was good at avoiding blows, sure. "Not just speed. Flexibility, too. I can use angles most can't." It was a minor point, but he'd been learning recently to value his own opinions.

Senja's hammer hadn't thumped him on the head as hard as Doya's final question though. He stared back blankly at the other. His ears wandered aimlessly with his thoughts. "Why I fight?" He blinked, "Cause I have ta." The knee-jerk answer came. A second later he opened his mouth in self-protest, "I mean, everyone has ta. Dat's da world. I'm not goin ta hide behind walls and pretend everytin's fine. Dat it's someone else's problem ta make da world safe for me."

But while the words were true, they were generic. For others, those sentiments might contain personal motivations. He'd known some. For others, many mercenaries, it was a way to make a living or a way of life. But he'd never felt that way. He'd fight for free. "I mean, it's excitin, too. Dere's notin like it. No rush better." His ears flattened as that sounded bad, selfish, or worse. His thoughts wandered to the conversation he'd had with Senja. He smirked; she was coming up a lot recently. He ought to chat with her. But the idea of a rush wasn't right either. It was true, the rush helped him in the moment, but that wasn't why he fought. It was ancillary.

"Dat sounds bad, ya?" He was aware that she had just explained this grand, noble idea of why she fought, right? And here he was saying that it was exciting. He frowned at himself. He looked at the wall idly and words spilled past his lips, "I don't got any grand legacy like you. Pat and dem taught me how ta fight and survive ta fight again." He flourished Darklash. "I follow da Champions. Da Unity Games? Even got da cards. I've been learnin what went on durin da Great War and twenty years ago. Da Scorched Seven? Da Platinum Order? I hope ta be like dem one day Er, not like dose last two. Like Shir and Lindon. Ettinus. Blossom. Yoken Daobi? Champions." For a time, until he botched it, he'd also bene learning directly from the tap.

Uttering the name of Velvet's mentor sent his mind down a path he rarely traveled, a childhood he rarely thought about. His ears flicked and he blinked. He smiled recalling the old champion. "Vee ever talk about Ol Daobi? Now dat's a ting ta live for, ya? Bein a shield behind which people can-" He struggled then sighed as something clicked, "Ta be da wall oders can hide behind? So kids don't lose deir folks? So lovers can love in peace? People can do deir shopping, laugh, smile, eat. So dat trauma doesn't have ta be automatic in dis world." He frowned darkly, "So no one ever has ta come up like I did." Chee couldn't recall ever speaking words that felt more solid. He couldn't remember anything that made more sense. His golden orbs were fixed and steady as he gazed at Doya, "No one. Ever. Should have ta be like me." He almost added, 'I'd die ta stop it,' but then he recalled Senja's lessons and smiled, "I'll fight toot and nail ta scratch every second of life I can from dis rock and spend it makin dat so." He had not inherited a legacy, but he'd send one forward into the future.

[Aethyrium]

Character Name: Doya Yama
Date | Time: December 22nd | 5:05pm
Location: Training Gym
Wearing: Simple jeans, sweater, and cardigan
Tagging | Mentioning: Chee | Velvet
There was a moment of surprise at the revelation of Darklash’s origin that had her glance down at the blade once more. Not everyone would be familiar with Masamune, but it should not have surprised anyone that Doya was. She felt a reverence in the presence of it. This must have been what it was like for others when they were near her. It was a strange sensational twist. “Incredible.” She murmured.

Her head bobbed very slightly at the idea of kids fighting. “In my home, everyone learns how to defend themselves and those around us. While not everyone stays on the path of the warrior, everyone starts there.” She looked down at Excalibur, “I was six when I was given my first blade, and made my first thrust.” Those memories were so distant. They were good, but also painful in a way. “Some call it barbaric, but for us it is survival.” She shook the distant thoughts from her head and returned her attention to him.

The first answer was weak. It was generic, and Doya might have called him on it, but she didn’t jump immediately. Doya had a patience in her, an understanding of when to act - and to speak. There was no need to correct him, because she could tell that he was working through it. It was an answer to her question, but it wasn’t the answer. If he had stayed on it, Doya would have counseled him differently. Such a reason was abstract, and in her mind, made for a poor Champion. That wasn’t a driving force, it was just a truth. Even the truth about the rush was closer to home - still not a good reason, but one she understood. Doya loved a good fight too. She was born for it. It was inside of her. On that she resonated. But it wasn’t a reason to fight, not one that could fuel oneself anyway.

Doya very slightly shook her head. There weren’t really wrong answers, so much as the answer that he landed on would tell her where he was. Her head tilted at the idea of a grand legacy that she had - perhaps he meant her accomplishments, but she wasn’t sure she’d have called it that. Ultimately it didn't matter because what he was doing was drawing a contrast. But it wasn’t one that she really agreed with. The notion, of course, the reason was good. But there was something diminishing to himself in his words. Doya looked the silenus over and regarded all that she knew about him - more than he realized, probably. His return had sparked a lot of conversation from Velvet. He was choosing to be a Champion, and really did she need anything more than that? “I don’t know about that,” Doya said with a gentle confidence, “I think the world could probably use more people like you, Chee.”

She had no doubt it was hard. Velvet’s story was hard, and she doubted Chee’s was any easier. What she knew of it specifically didn’t sound any easier. Yet all of that had led him to become the man he was. Was that perfect? Of course not, but who was? But he was trying, doing what he could, doing good where it was possible. “She’s mentioned him a few times,” Doya acknowledged. Velvet really didn’t like to dig into it. It made her sad, and filled her with anxiety.

“That’s a noble reason to fight,” Doya said, appreciating it despite the seeming lack of respect Chee had for himself. That was okay though, she had plenty for him until he figured it out. “When we fight for others, for something beyond ourselves, we can draw strength from it. Our reasons, when they are immovable, create an anchor that we can hold onto, no matter what we face. All of these people you aspire to compare to are not incredible because of their skill, but rather for the lengths they will go to to serve their purpose in fighting.” Lindon she didn’t know, but the others? She knew well enough to be confident she was right. “Being a Champion is more than the tools we use, it is what we stand for.”

Gripping the hilt of Excalibur, Doya lifted the blade straight up bisecting the vision of her face. “I can teach you to use a sword, but to become a wall against pain and loss, you will have to learn to be more than a fighter. It is not enough to simply slay Hollow, you must become the light others can look to.” Just like he looked to Shir, Lindon, Ettinus, Blossom, and Daobi. “That’s what Champions are, Chee.” She opened her eyes and looked at him past the smooth flats of the blade, “Hope.”

[shengami]

Character Name: Chee Tortious
Date | Time: 12.22 | 5:05pm
Location: Hammer Academy Training Gyms
Wearing: Tracksuit, comfy shoes, Darklash is carried
Tagging | Mentioning: @Aethyrium /Doya | Velvet
Note: If At First... (4)
"More orphans?" But his eyes were already apologizing to Doya for the comment. It hadn't been what she meant. It was something that was never far from his mind though. His ears flicked. Chee looked at her face. He thought about what she'd said about the necessities of this world. Children at the age of six with their first instrument of death. But that was how he saw it. That was the scared orphan running the street. He tilted his head and thought about it her way. His brain slid into it easily. A sword was not a symbol of death, it was a vow to protect. A shield was not a barrier to keep death away. It was a force to protect those behind you. He thought of the awe he'd seen in her eyes as she looked at Darklash the Masamune blade.

He turned to look into one of the mirrors on the wall and marshaled his own face. Doya kept talking about his answer. He smiled at the acknowledgement that, in her own way, Velvet was a little broken, too. Chee didn't know anyone from the orphanage that wasn't. He didn't think there were many at Hammer than weren't. He thought about the people he had just named, the ones Doya now praised, the feeling they filled him with, and watched his face. Yeah, it was similar to how she had looked when he'd revealed that information.

His head twisted back to her, he was grinning. "Sorry, I know- I-" He looked back at himself in the mirror. "Sometimes, just sometimes, I tink I see da champion I want ta be. Will be someday. And when I do, I know what you meant." His lips twisted wryly, "Maybe, recently, dat picture's gettin easier ta see."

He turned back to her. He felt the jitteriness in his legs. He listened as she talked about champions as symbols of hope. He nodded. He got that. He looked over his shoulder at the mirror. The moment's lapse in concentration saw his legs bending and flexing. His tail whipped. Could he be that? Broken, scarred, scared him? Could he be a real beacon of hope? He felt a bubble of levity rising up in him. The tension was bearing down on his shoulders.

"Ya, but da skill ain't notin to sneeze at. Nor da tools." His eyes flew open. His lips clamped shut. The last time he tried to use light humor like that, it had gone nuclear. He held up his hands for her to wait, "And like I said, I learn best wit my body. But I get what you're sayin. Dat's what I was talkin bout when I came over, ya?" He tapped his temple with two fingers. His ears flicked. "Da change up here, for me, starts here." He tapped his bicep with the same fingers.

He chewed his lip and looked at Doya, "Cause I'm not. A shinin light? I know dat was just a metaphor. I get dat. Da rest of it, what you said, one hundred percent. I want people ta look ta me, rely on me. Not da gun, not da darts, not even Darklash. Me. See me and know dey is safe or I got deir back. Dat as long as I'm fightin, dere's a bulwark against 'pain and loss.'" He grimaced as he used her words, but they had fit so well. He wasn't a beacon. He was sure of that. The metaphor felt wrong, but the intent was close. "But some symbol of hope? Ya." He shrugged 'sorry' for being pedantic, but the words felt like they mattered. The choice of words made it so it was his way of doing it. "I tink I can do dat. Be dat symbol." He thought about Lindon and the buying a few decades at a time idea, "I can do dat. I want ta try. I want ta hope, too. Dat if I can hold dat line long enough... dey'll see it and hold on, too." He huffed. It was almost as scary as when he'd promised Roar to try and figure out their thing.

Who'd trust you? The intrusive thought made him flinch, but he pushed it away.

Smiling, he tapped his temple with Darklash this time, "But I got ta make dat shift here. And part of dat, for me, is learning da bits. Not a mercenary, a warrior. Not a soldier with a tool, a champion..." He flourished Darklash, "With determination..." He rocked onto the balls of his feet and bounced rapidly, "And resilience."

~~End Scene~~

[shengami]

Character Name: Chee Tortious
Date | Time: 12.28 | 5:05pm
Location: Hammer Academy Training Gyms
Wearing: Tracksuit, comfy shoes, Darklash is carried
Tagging | Mentioning: @FyreFoxx /Lyra |
Note: The Problem Is...
Chee never had much chance to do this. He frowned down at the cannister in his hand and shook it. His ears twitched and picked up the shushing rasp of the soft Arcanite within. He dropped idly into a crouch on the matt and then opened the top. He sniffed experimentally and then frowned. It smelled a bit like spicy food. Or was that his imagination? His ears flicked as a loud thumping nearby almost saw him jump. He glared at Cub who stuck his tongue out and ran back to his own team. They were doing something with assisted movements, ally-oops and such.

He looked back at the cannister and then grumped.

It was the one area that he just didn't get. It wasn't the only area he struggled, but it was the one where he just couldn't bash his way through. Professor Lowed's class was like trying to do somersaults while juggling chainsaws. Except, juggling while doing handstands was something Chee might enjoy trying.

"Problem here is, dis stuff is expensive! How's a body suppose ta practice when he's flushin good cor down da toilet like it's tissue?"

He licked his lips. Sandra had taught him the basics at one point when it had become obvious Chee could wield his Soul. Having someone else who could was a benefit to the team, but not that much. They couldn't afford a ton of the stuff and they could rarely afford to use it on anything other than heat, power, and other needs. As such, before he'd come to Hammer, he'd used Arcanite maybe a dozen times total. Since joining Hammer, he'd added half again as many uses. And each had been tricky and fraught. He recalled the boosted leap he'd used in the fight with Mila. That had been cool. Really cool! And he'd seen what the others did, especially Lyra. And using Arcanite was an essential part of being a Champion, right? It could do fantastic things.

He frowned as he recalled Adir and the best use of Arcanite he could come up with being to stab the guy with more and hope. Frustration bubble in his chest and his tail whipped behind him. He capped the cannister again and scanned the room. He had a plan; Chee never backed down.

Spotting the dainty elven woman, he bounced to his feet and jogged over, "Lyra! Hey!" He smiled as he came in closer. They hadn't really spent much time together, as teammates, since the great Chee and Koko Vs. Thessa and Lyra match. Well, there had been the rally, but they'd not exactly been there together as such. He blushed deeply and his eyes fell to the matt as he recalled the disaster with Shir. He chewed his lip. He was putting that off dangerously. He huffed and looked back up, "So, I was going to ask if you can help me out, ya? Wit dis?" He tilted the cannister so the soft red Arcanite inside could slither from one to the other. "Not great wit da stuff. Not even sure why outside I've never practiced much. And I don't exactly tink of it in da pinch. Da stuff we do in Professor Lowed's class is... well, I don't get dat stuff. At all!" He sent her a flabbergasted look of exasperation.

Then his face brightened, "Well, I did dis one cool ting? I poofed da red stuff in da air like waaah!" He spread his fingers and arced his hands to indicate it was everywhere. Then, effortlessly, he bent over backwards, planted his hands on the floor, and stuck his feet into the spot we'd just indicated, "And I stuck my feet in like dis. And Den I made dese little jets of fire like? And dey shot me to da next rooftop." He spun and rolled and stood up. His ears twitched. That had been during the rooftop chase and fight with Mila. That had been fun. He grinned at the memory, but avoided remembering too far beyond it. "But even den, I could feel I barely had it under control. Cool, but a bit scary. Ya?" "And just da oder day, me and Hulta and Stella were doing dat Blue Arcanite homework and... boy! Dat stuff does not like me? Gives me da heebie-jeebies! Any of it do dat for you or all of it loves you?" He looked into her eyes with naked curiosity. He'd not exactly seen what she did that day at Rishi Valely but he'd heard of it. And he had seen what she did with the Ursoc and in the way she dealt with Koko and her disastrous trap pit. That had been funny looking back on it. IF anyone was going to help him get some skill here, it was Lyra.

[FyreFoxx]

Character Name: Lyreilynn "Lyra" Xyrven Myalis
Date | Time: December 28 | ~5:00 PM
Location: Hammer Academy Training Gyms
Wearing: teal Arcanite pendant, Black wrap top and matching black pants, white overjacket
Tagging | Mentioning: Chee | Vesper

Being alone during training was a common occurrence for Lyra, who normally spent the time stretching and doing small things on her own. Occasionally, she would participate in group sessions, or smaller spars, but she still liked doing things on her own. Still, since coming to Hammer, the little elf had started to integrate herself a bit more with her team and stopped secluding herself so much. The class had only just started and Lyra was off to the side, doing some warm-up exercises and stretches. Despite her small frame, the dainty elf was extremely flexible, as seen by the way her legs were spread wide to either side of her body, sitting on the floor as she reached out in front of her as far as her fingertips could reach.
 
The sound of someone calling her name snapped her to attention, blinking as she walked her hands along the floor to shift into a sitting position, still doing a split as the Silenus bounded over to her. As he held the canister up, recognition flashed in her eyes as she spotted the red soft powder shifting side to side. “Ah, Arcanite,” she mumbled quietly. Placing her hands flat against the mat, Lyra pushed herself up into a kneeling position, then stood up slowly, brushing the dust from her clothes. She offered him that signature soft smile of hers, nodding her head. “Um, sure, I can help as much as I am able to. I am not sure what you hope to gain from me, but I would be happy to help in any way I can.”
 
There were rapid blinks as Chee began his little storytelling, taking a step back at the way he was gesturing the little explosions, clearly caught off guard. She’d forgotten how animated her teammate could get. Tilting her head to the side, Lyra tried to follow his explanation, but the flabbergasted look on her face was nearly an identical image of the one he recently had. “Um, okay? That sounds… dangerous?” Jets of fire on his feet? “Were you okay after that? You did not burn yourself, did you?” Almost as if on cue, those blue eyes drifted down over his body, like she was expecting to see burns somewhere on his form. Still, there was at least one part of it she understood. ‘Barely under control.’ ‘Scary.’ That she knew all about. Mentally, her mind drifted off somewhere far away, a hand snaking to her left arm where her fingers dug in almost painfully.
 
But Chee’s incessant chattering brought her out of those depths, bringing a small smile back to her lips, even a giggle escaping as she caught sight of his open curiosity and honest praise. “No, there are some that even I am not skilled with. Green and yellow, mostly. Especially yellow.” There was a small shudder as she repeated the second color. Lyra was extremely sensitive to sound. “Handling Earth is tricky for me. And Sound is…” Loathsome. She waved her hand as she dismissed the intruding thought. “But you wanted help with red specifically? Or Arcanite in general?” Light glinted off the golden metal that encircled her wrists. “Red is not my specialty - blue is - but it is not a weakness, either, so I should hopefully be helpful?”
 
Lyra pointed over towards the side of the room, gesturing towards a training dummy set up for ranged attackers to practice on. She’d used a similar one when she and Vesper had demonstrated their skills for one another all those weeks ago. “I admit, I… do not often use Arcanite myself. I have no need to, really,” she admitted with a shy smile, reaching up to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind a pointed ear. “With my bracelets, I basically have everything I need right here.” Blinking in surprise, she quickly raised up both hands in defense as she waved them back and forth. “But that is not to say I am unfamiliar!” She touched the sash at her waist, where a hidden belt was underneath, holding onto a series of small vials, each containing an assortment of soft powdered Arcanite.
 
She let out a breath, closing her eyes for a moment. This was going poorly and they hadn’t even started yet! After one more calming breath, she looked back up at the grinning Silenus. “I apologize… That… That came out wrong. Let me start over. What can I help with, Chee?” 

[shengami]

Character Name: Chee Tortious
Date | Time: 12.28 | 5:05pm
Location: Hammer Academy Training Gyms
Wearing: Tracksuit, comfy shoes, Darklash is carried
Tagging | Mentioning: @FyreFoxx /Lyra |
Note: The Problem Is... (2)
Chee watched Lyra disappear. She did that a lot, so he was used to it. Her eyes looked inside herself and he watched her body process internally. He noted her left hand. Chee knew the look of trauma and pain. But he left it alone. If Lyra wanted him to know, she'd tell him. If she didn't tell him, then it wasn't his business. "Oh ya! Sure. Bet it was super dangerous." He laughed loudly. "Ruined a good pair of sneakers, for sure. Melted da souls and everytin. Was cool dough." He jabbered while she came back from wherever. "Lucky, I had anoder pair. Bought some more since den. I can show you how I did it, if you want?"

He went silent a moment, waiting to see what she thought or would say. He felt a little disappointed that she moved on. His tail snapped behind him. He moved on with her.

"Yellow, eh?" He tapped his lip and blinked big golden orbs at her. He grinned, "Me and Hulta and Stella talked a bit about da oder colors da oder day." He moved beside her for a few steps and then hopped forward to turn and walk backwards so he could face her. His hands clasped behind his back and he waggled his head. "Yellow feels like whistling ta me. Not like-" Chee pursed his lips and sent a few shrill notes into the air. There was a lot of air mixed in though, Chee winced at his own efforts and looked an apology to Lyra. He grinned. "More like... Hmm, ever heard a bomb traveling trough da air? Like an object cutting through da wind? Like dat." He leaned back as he walked and thought. "Black is da best  dough, den Red and Green."

He was frowning inwardly though. Then he shrugged, "Is dat how it works? You gotta practice each one? I was hopin I could just... get better at dem all.". He chopped the air sharply to demonstrated how easy he hoped it would be.

Then his eyes got big and he looked at the golden bangles on Lyra's wrists. His mouth made an 'O' of surprise, "Cool. Is dat dat sorcery stuff? You can do what Arcanite does without Arcanite? Bangarang!" He looked up at Lyra, "Dat's heckin cool! No wonder you're so good! Never had ta worry bout da stuff costin an arm and two toes." He listened as she stopped and redirected herself.

He grinned, "Nah, I got you. Knew you were da one. Tanks!" he whirled to face the target dummy. Pursing his lips, he opened the tube he held and racked it once lightly to send some red into the air. He pushed his hand into the glittering mist and focused. He pushed his soul into it, imagined the effect. The Red twinkled, flared, and then a bar of red light speared out from it. It raked across the dummy. Hissing, Chee snapped his hand back. It was a little flush from the heat. He eyed it, blew across his knuckles, then looked to Lyra for critique. "See, it worked dere. But I could feel da Red trying ta... tryin ta-" He frowned. "Professor lowed calls it Chaos, ya? You can feel it trying ta go everywhere at once, not where you sent it? It was trying to... go into my hand." He flexed his fingers and showed her the fading red patch.

His ears flicked up. He closed the cylinder of Red and tucked it away to pull out one of Black. This his opened and racked the same way, like an addicted getting a cigarette from a package, this time he snatched at the bits of black. It was still soft but slightly larger particles. "For da Black, I like a coarser size. I can feel it like sand against my flesh. Actually, I like da Black crystals more, but, Wild One's hairy ass, dey're expensive!" He focused again. This time, it came easier. His fist shivered, electricity arched between his knuckles, then a bolt shot from his fist to the target. It felt a black, smoking crater in it where the red beam had only left a small black line. He smirked at it. "See? Da Black works better. But I've used Black lots before." He looked to Lyra again.

[FyreFoxx]

Character Name: Lyreilynn "Lyra" Xyrven Myalis
Date | Time: December 28 | ~5:00 PM
Location: Hammer Academy Training Gyms
Wearing: teal Arcanite pendant, Black wrap top and matching black pants, white overjacket
Tagging | Mentioning: Chee | Vesper

Lyra had a hard time relating to the way Chee rambled on about Arcanite and his disastrous attempts with it and it being cool. “I am… a bit interested?” she admitted, eyeing him warily. “But please, no burning more shoes!” she chided, but it wasn’t meant to be mean, a ghost of a smile on her lips. Was his lack of awareness of the danger coming from his lack of knowledge? Then again, hadn’t that also been Lyra once upon a time? A young girl eager to learn and experiment, despite the obvious dangers it presented?
 
Talking about Arcanite felt easier to handle. Even if it were colors she disliked. Lyra had never really thought about the way the elements felt to her, so it was certainly an interesting and enlightening experience to her. There was a bit of a light giggle as Chee attempted to whistle to demonstrate his point, her smile widening a bit. It had been a terrible attempt and even Chee knew it. “I cannot whistle either,” she admitted quietly. “My brother does it with his fingers, like this.” Lyra placed the tips of two fingers together between her lips and blew softly. Like Chee, it was mostly air and produced little to no sound. Her cheeks grew warm as red darkened them at her failed attempt. At his question, she shook her head.
 
“Well, there is a general way to learn and then there are specialized ways. At least… It worked for me?” Lyra canted her head to the side, pursing her lips together. The way she learned and did things certainly wouldn’t work for most people. She shook her head as he sliced the air. “Well, you could learn to activate it that easily, but to control it? To have it follow your will? That takes a little more practice.”
 
Switching her focus back on practice, Lyra watched in silence as Chee demonstrated what he already knew. If she had a basis of what he already had a grasp of, it’d be better to know where to go from there. The way he handled the red powder was curious to her, lifting a hand to her face as she tapped a finger against her jaw, watching, critiquing. She could see the problem already. “Chaos is a natural part of all Arcanite use. It is when you lose control.” Lyra stepped closer to Chee, reaching both hands down to take his injured one in hers, inspecting his red palm. “You are forcing it too hard. Inviting it in and then shoving it away.” It was an apt metaphor considering the way he activated it.
 
He drew his hand back and repeated the showcase, only this time with black as his source. She never thought the grit of powder would make a difference but the more she thought about it, the more she realized that maybe it did. Perhaps it worked the same way that the purity of crystals did, so it only made sense. “Your affinity is with black, yes?” When Chee nodded, Lyra continued. “It would make sense that you have better control over an element you are more familiar with.” That blush on her cheeks darkened considerably at his cursing, but she tried to ignore it, although the twitch in the corner of her lips and the way her fingers flexed were the only other indications. “Crystals can be expensive, yes…” The disparity of her ability to access crystals and his was huge. Had that been a factor in his ability to learn? “My family deals directly with Arcanite, so I suppose I… never really noticed.” There was a slight frown. Her wealth had never barred her access before, nor had her family’s dealings in the stuff been an issue to get more of it. Suddenly, the new regulations came to mind and the price increases for everyday citizens to access Arcanite.  
 
Lyra lifted a hand up, palm facing her, as she tapped the golden ring with the opposite hand. “To answer your earlier question, yes. I can draw forth and sort of… borrow the elemental energy? Instead of letting it consume the crystals. I do need to draw a negalu - a symbol representing what I want it to do - however.” Lyra scribbled a basic one - a familiar one for a small fireball - in the space between them. Of course, no spark activated, since she was just drawing the symbol and not pulling forth the elements. “There are more etched into the metals so that when I hold them,” her bracelets in spherical form, “I do not need to rely on drawing them myself.”
 
“But for this,” lowering her hands, she let her fingers slip underneath the sash tied around her waist. It took a moment before she withdrew a small glass vial, tilting it to one side as red powder shifted within. “I will use soft Arcanite.” She popped the vial with one hand and spilled a tiny portion of it out into the waiting open palm of her other hand. Raising the hand with the vial to her lips, she licked the tip of one finger to wet it before tapping the miniscule pile of powder with it. The red granules stuck to her finger and now free of powder, she swapped the vial to the other hand. She focused her Soul on the small amount, igniting it like someone lit a candle, burning down the length of her finger. As the flame died out, there were no red marks left on her skin.
 
“You need to feel the energy and harness it. You cannot force it or you invite chaos.” There was a grim smile as she looked up at him. “Although, even with the best of intentions, that can still happen.” Tilting more of the powder into her palm, Lyra grinned at Chee. “Just watch.” Mimicking his earlier actions, Lyra tossed the handful of the soft Arcanite towards the dummy and pressed her hand to the cloud - against it rather than in it - and activated it by channeling her Soul. In a similar manner, but not quite the same, a spear of flames shot forth towards the dummy. “Try holding your hand further back. The way you handle it is like.. Like sticking your hand into scalding water and hoping to not get burned. This way, it is more like… skimming the surface? Have a clear mental image of what you want the element to do for you. You are harnessing it, not creating it. It just needs to follow the path you open up for it.”

[shengami]

Character Name: Chee Tortious
Date | Time: 12.28 | 5:05pm
Location: Hammer Academy Training Gyms
Wearing: Tracksuit, comfy shoes, Darklash is carried
Tagging | Mentioning: @FyreFoxx /Lyra |
Note: The Problem Is... (3)

He listened as she talked then. Both about her tools as well as her analysis of his use. He thought of how they had used that Blue the other day. It had been the same. He was trying to force it. He flexed his fingers. Then he blinked hard as Lyra was next to him. He almost jerked his hand back. Catching himself, he let her take his hand. Her fingers were soft, light. The pressure of them was almost negligible. Still, his focus was locked in, hard to move, and he stared at a wall. He counted under his breath then tried to draw his hand back calmly instead of snatching it.

"Dat's what Lowed said, yeah. Made sense ta me. When I first learned ta wield my Soul, Sandra taught me a few tings. We couldn't afford too much, so she had me try a pinch of each color. After dat, used almost only Black or Red for years."  He grinned, "Nah, don't suppose you'd have noticed." He chuckled. He pursed his lips and considered the facts as they were. Green Arcanite would have made his ranging a lot safer, for sure. It would have been nice to have money like that, but he hadn't. He shrugged. Reality was what it was. Lyra was no more at fault for being from her family than he was for being from none. "Well, I'm glad you had da access den! Cause now you got da experience ta help me, ya? Bet it was nice having a family like dat." His ears flicked brightly and his tail swished.

He focused as she moved to the demonstration part of the interaction. He noted her grimace as his colorful language though.

Chee put his fingers in his mouth the way Lyra had demonstrated and tried whistling like her brother as her spear of fire struck the target. He ended up just spitting all over his bottom lip. Frowning darkly for a moment, he licked up the spittle and looked at Lyra. Respect shone from his eyes. Then he looked at her bracers. He looked up at her with a lop-sided grin, "Seems we're both failures at whistling." He shrugged. He pursed his lips and, on impulse, drew Darklash. He flicked it so the little maker's mark showed. She was sharing, so he would as well, "Darklash's mark ain't magic, but it is special. Dis a Masamune blade." He let her have a look then returned it. He felt like he was on even keel now.

"Negalu? Lowed said sometin bout dat. But dat's all nonsense ta me. Is it anytin like what dat Adir Udan did? Man jammed WHOLE crystals inta himself. Well, I jammed one or two as well. Tink Tessa did also. But dey just lit him up. Like... like... You ever had a scoop of fudge ripple ice cream? How da chocolate is sorta laced inta da surface? Like dat." He tapped his chin mimicking Lyra's own motion and looked to see if the petite elf understood the image. "Den he went all- GRAHHHHH!!!" Chee roared and put his hands up to mimic size and power. His voice boomed in the room. "Tossed me and Tessa around like ragdolls. Dat-" Chee shuddered visibly. He looked up to a corner of the room and his hand went to his throat where the man had gripped him. Chee had never yet felt so close to death. The man's pure physical power had been amazing. He wobbled his head a bit then looked at Lyra, "Nah, can't be. He still needed da crystals, right? You don't? Just dose bracelets?" He stepped in and leaned close to look at them curiously. "Wish I had dem or soemtin like dem. Crystals are very expensive! Plus, one in tree times I don't get what I want."

He stood and took another breath. No force. He could do that. Delicate, agile, precise: he could do those things. Not everything was bulling through it like a Taurus. This time, he poured some of the soft Red into his palm as she had and eyed it. Sticking his tongue out the side of his mouth, he thought about how to go about it. He bounced his hand and through about just tossing it up. His lips pursed as he considered blowing it into the air. He cocked his head to the side and his tail snapped. He nodded. He took in a big breath, was about to blow, when the room's door opened and Professor Ares strode in.

Chee's fist clasped over the Red and his eyes went wide. "Professor! You here for Lyra? I can-"

The man shook his head and looked at Chee. "No." He held up a strange devise in one hand and two orange crystals in the other. "Recall? You volunteered." Chee's ears went alert then and he nodded slowly. Ares had asked for students to help with Arcanite experiments. he'd signed up no questions asked. He looked to Lyra and smiled sheepishly, "Ok, so... uh... cotinue with orange?" His fist clenched and he felt the granules of Red. He waited to see what happened.

[Aethyrium]

[TheFluffyOne]

Stats

Strength: 1
Stamina: 2
Speed: 3
Shimmer: 5
Soul: 2
Brawl: 0
Melee: 3
Ranged: 1
Preparation: 2

Terrain Affinity: Forest
Terrain Weakness: Aquatic
Element Affinity: Air
Element Weakness: Water

Weapon Bonus: 12+2

Character Name: Hulta Elderfond
Date | Time:  01.8.1323 | Afternoon (~2:40pm)
Location: Hammer Academy - Training Room
Wearing: Her Uniform
Tagging | Mentioning: Professor Ares Halo | Marlowe & Dari (m)
Content: Another 'lesson'
It was unusual for Professor Ares Halo to request a student of his to be excused from a class. It was even more unusual when that student he requested was not actually one of his. Hulta fought the blush on her cheeks as Professor Halo requested her presence in one of the training rooms during Hollowology with Professor Field. The class had barely started which meant that she was missing a good hour of the course work but it had been requested by another staff member after all. Hulta gave a small smile and whisper to Dariaq as she left her seat. “I’ll steal your notes later.” Not a single glance to Lolo, Hulta was just gone.

Heading to a training room alone with the man who had taken her mouth the last time they were truly alone. She had seen him a few times since then, mostly when she had only students nearby or he spotted her when he was talking to another teacher.  Progress updates that made her initially forget how intimate their meeting had truly been. It was only when she was alone and getting stuck in her thoughts about pesky Lolo that she remembered what Ares had done to her. How her fingers strayed when Dari was out the room at the thought of Ares doing that again.

She hadn’t truly expected him to want..or even need to. Surely, it was enough for what she needed to know. Words trickled from his lips, something about how confident he was in the process of the dagger. That he was certain he could teach her how to use it. She followed him like a loyal eager puppy and let the door to the training room close behind her. Not even noticing how it locked and the door dimmed to give privacy.

The dagger was placed on a nearby table and she expected it to look different but it was the exact same. Hulta greedily drank in the information that he gave her, the small details that she hadn’t even noticed let alone could even attempt to comprehend. Her fingers hovered over the blade and she felt like everything he said was more information she could give her parents. They would be pleased with the next letter that she sent home. She could already feel their disappointment in her disintegrating.

“I can teach you, if you still want.”

Those amber pupils returned to him and she gave him a timid smile. “Yes please. I would like to learn.” She knew by now that this meant more was required. She had done ‘well’ the last time. Maybe it would be the same again. She was dressed in her uniform this time, the outfit not nearly as tempting as it was last time.The thought of Marlowe fluttered into her skull but her doubt and guilt was dwarfed by the potential feeling of her parents not being disappointed in her anymore. “What would you like me to do, Professor Halo?” Hulta asked, her head tilting to one side as her lower lip was dragged between her teeth.

[Aethyrium]

Character Name: Ares Halo
Date | Time: January 8th | Afternoon (~2:40pm)
Location: Hammer Academy - Ares’ Classroom
Wearing: Casual linen blue shirt, white pants
Tagging | Mentioning: Hulta
Notes:
Working with Mithril had been exciting all on its own. Ares thoroughly enjoyed the challenge and opportunity. It expanded his understanding of things, and was probably the only time in his life he’d get to toy with this sort of old magic. It was exhilarating to understand. He had contemplated how he might barter the dagger away from Hulta, it was the sort of relic that he’d like to have spent years working with. But knowing its story, its connection, there was nothing he felt he could offer her for it - and so, he never brought it up. What he had brought up to her, periodically, was his progress. Whatever someone else might think about the nature of friendship with Ares, he was dutiful to his friends and Hulta commonly given updates about the work he was doing, and how the friendship she’d begun with him was paying off for her.

But it was a friendship that felt neglected. Despite her promise to return, it hadn’t happened. And Ares was comfortable making demands of his students - his friendship with Vesper, for instance, was about the boy giving, and Ares taking. He and Hulta hadn’t worked out something so precisely. Yet. That would need to change if she was wanting to learn what he had about Mithril.

He set the blade down on the table, and turned to look at her, “I can teach you, if you still want.”

The answer was exactly what he wanted to hear. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he admitted. Not because he was specifically drawn to her - at least, not beyond the nature of whatever this sort of relationship was - but because he enjoyed what he had with all of his friends. It was unique. With Hulta, Ares felt like a guide. That was unique among his collection of friends - such things were always better when they occupied a unique place. “I was worried, after our last meeting… You left in such a hurry.” Ares mused, stepping in close to her.

He reached up and cupped her cheek in his palm. His thumb brushed the ridge beneath her eye. “If we’re going to be friends, Hulta, I think we should be clear about our… Expectations. Our wants. Our,” he smiled, “Needs.” His hand dropped to her shoulder and gave a small squeeze, “For instance, I don’t like going so long without seeing my friends. I prefer to be able to call on them.” But that was maybe getting ahead of himself. Ares slipped his hand from her shoulder, and pushed it into his pockets. “Last time we were together, you seemed uncertain,” he took a few steps back, giving her space. “This sort of thing only works if we’re both honest, and both interested.”

[TheFluffyOne]

Stats

Strength: 1
Stamina: 2
Speed: 3
Shimmer: 5
Soul: 2
Brawl: 0
Melee: 3
Ranged: 1
Preparation: 2

Terrain Affinity: Forest
Terrain Weakness: Aquatic
Element Affinity: Air
Element Weakness: Water

Weapon Bonus: 12+2

Character Name: Hulta Elderfond
Date | Time:  01.8.1323 | Afternoon (~2:40pm)
Location: Hammer Academy - Training Room
Wearing: Her Uniform
Tagging | Mentioning: Professor Ares Halo | Marlowe & Dari (m)
Content: Another 'lesson'
Hulta kept her fingers clasped behind her back. Unsure of what to do with them. Would he want her to touch him right away or was this a different experience than last time? She knew that she had left awkwardly in a rush last time. There was that worry about what exactly he was going to do to her. A warm hand cupped her cheek, and she fought to stop her eyelids from fluttering instantly on the contact. It was strange and unnerving how much physical affection could make her melt. Marlowe was back in her life now so there was no lack of it yet this was different. Expectations…Wants…Needs. His hand dropped from her face, and she kept her gaze latched on his.

Her teeth remained deep in her bottom lip. He didn’t like going this long without seeing his friends. She should have known that her busy schedule would mean little to someone who was doing this great favour for her. Hulta should have come to see him earlier, she chastised herself silently as his hand slipped from her. “I am interested.” That felt like a piercing shot into her hollow stomach. Fighting back the doubt and regret for saying such things just after Marlowe had forgiven her, she concentrated on the moment instead.

“I was uncertain…As I have never..” She paused and dropped her eyes from his face to the centre of his chest. It was easier to concentrate on the pale blue and not his eyes. “I have never been intimate with anyone before.” There. That made one slither of weight shed from her shoulders. “I won’t lie. I did want you to touch me back…I was just worried that yknow…” She danced around the direct comment. Placing her teeth back in that slot in her bottom lip, she took a small step towards him. Looking up at him through her eyelashes. “I do not truly know what I want…or need, Sir. I know what I like…but perhaps another lesson is in order?” Hulta tried to channel that confidence that had helped her last time, when she turned the table on him to stop him from tasting her. Slowly, her fingers unlatched as she brought her hands to his chest. Toying with one of the pale buttons of his shirt.

He had wanted information. She should give him at least something that she did know. "I..I liked it when you kissed my ears." Colour burned onto her skin as she tried to focus on the button and not on him. "I liked how your hands felt on me...and I know that you liked how my tongue felt." The colour blended to the very tips of her ears. "What else do you like?"

[Aethyrium]

Character Name: Ares Halo
Date | Time: January 8th | Afternoon (~2:40pm)
Location: Hammer Academy - Ares’ Classroom
Wearing: Casual linen blue shirt, white pants
Tagging | Mentioning: Hulta
Notes:
To Ares, virginity was a strict neutral. It was neither particularly enticing, nor something that bothered him. So when she said it, Ares didn’t flinch or seem concerned. It was just something to note - and it explained plenty. “Ahh,” he sounded, mirroring her gaze and looking down at her. “I understand.” Even if that didn’t hold appeal, Hulta’s shyness did. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he tried to soothe her embarrassment, “We all start somewhere.” His own tale had begun long ago, before he was Hulta’s age, and certainly under less beneficial - and, hopefully, enjoyable - circumstances. “I think that’s a good idea,” he grinned.

She was right of course about enjoying the way her tongue felt. In fact, he was rather looking forward to that again. “We spent a lot of time last time we were together on what I like,” his hand dropped from her cheek and settled on her shoulder. This time would be different - reaffirmation of her interest, and a call for another lesson insisted that it would be. “I’m interested in seeing what you like right now,” he placed his hands on her waist, and squeezed her slightly. His touch glided slowly upward, paused, and then left her. Ares took a step back, letting the toying of his shirt buttons strain the shirt, inviting her to follow him with each backward step. Just before bumping the table where Mithril lay, Ares snagged Hulta again and spun her around. He pushed her into its edge and then retreated another step.

“My hands on you,” he mused, lifting one into the air to draw her attention - and something in the air. An extended index traced some sort of shape into the nothingness, like he was carving into the air. The gesture would have looked somewhat familiar to Hulta, because it was the same general idea that Lyra used to conjure her magic. In the moment that followed Hulta would feel the strangest sensation - an elemental force that she was not used to, unfamiliar with entirely, and yet she could vaguely recognize as being present. Her clothing, her uniform - and everything beneath it - all felt light before it fell away. Through her. As it lost cohesion with the physical world entirely and shifted away with Ares’ will. It passed through the table, and uniform, underwear, and shoes all dropped into a pile on the floor, finding their physical mass again - leaving Hulta bare for Ares. “Let’s start there.” he smirked.

That same hand reached out, and Ares cupped her breast fully in his palm. He stepped in against her and wrapped another arm around her waist. His hand dropped to take hold of the full curve of her back side and lift it - guiding her, if she’d listen, to tippy toe up and sit on the edge of the table.