[Sandbox] Hammer Academy - Training Rooms

[Intimate Ink]

Character Name: Vesper Cabello
Date | Time: October 14th | Evening (~17:10)
Location: Hammer Academy - Sparring Hall
Wearing: Layered, soft neutrals
Tagging | Mentioning: Lolo |

Given the puddle of goo that Vesper currently felt his bones were rendered into – to say nothing of his rather precarious- looking soul – Lolo’s sentiment about Kenny inspired a laugh. A pained laugh, but it was still a laugh. ”Well, I can’t say what you were like prior to the Academy, but you’re certainly difficult to ignore now.”

He paused for a moment, breathing heavily at the idea of moving quite yet, but he was also aware that they would be dismissed soon enough. It was time to rally whether he wanted to or not, lest one of the two newest members of the team look like they were already lagging. Delaying that move another moment, he commented, ”It does sound like we share some things other than some mutual bruising then. My own family would like nothing more than to see me return with my tail between my legs. I can assure you that they would not be so bashful as to resist giving me a litany of ‘I told you so’s’ either.”

As Vesper finally submitted to what seemed like a sudden, agonizing fate of being horizontal once more, he glanced to his sparring partner. ”You know, you remind me of someone…”

Vesper paused, the vision of his headstrong, melee-skilled and comparatively fiery-tempered and impulsive brother flooding his mind. It suddenly felt awkward. ”I can’t quite put my finger on who, but it’ll come to me soon,  I’m sure…”

Flipping back into the more playful register, Vesper cocked his head, ”I know you like to play the field and all, but hopefully I’ll merit a round two soon. I’ll work on my technique in the mean time so I can last even longer for you.”

“It was good sparring with you, Lolo…”

Vesper extended a hand out, determined to push what energy he still had into that grip despite already wanting to collapse once more.

{End Scene}

[FyreFoxx]

Character Name: Lyreilynn "Lyra" Xyrven Myalis
Date | Time: October 25 | Evening (~8pm)
Location: Hammer Academy - Training Room
Wearing: Embroidered light blue wrap top, dark blue skirt, simple laced boots
Tagging | Mentioning: Doya | Ettinus, Alamaradi, Azir, Marlowe

Lyra considered Doya’s words but she kept her eyes adverted. She didn’t want to see the look on her face as she said them. She didn’t want to see the truth on her face. Didn’t want to hear the truth in her words, but she listened anyway. If all she was seeing was failure, there really was a good chance it was because she was looking for it. It’s all she’d ever been. A failure. At least, that’s what she had grown up believing. She never measured up to her siblings, as much as she tried to. Never had their skill or abilities. Never had their aptitude. But did she need them? That’s what Doya was trying to make her realize, wasn’t it?

Doya mentioned Alamaradi, a student many years her senior, but ones whose skills were similar to hers. True, she couldn’t compare herself right now to the Silenus, but perhaps in time she might? Lyra grimaced, closing her eyes. Why was she so insistent that Doya was wrong? Why was she fighting so hard against it that she was willing to believe everything she grew up hearing, when there was now something presented before her that disproved all of it? Why couldn’t she just… let go?

Her grip on the blade finally started to relax, the pain in her palm from the biting nails fading as she did so. But she didn’t let it drop this time. Opening her eyes, she stared down at the sword in her hand, lifting it slowly to a forty-five-degree angle in favor of the ground. Doya was trying so hard to get her to understand something. To understand that what she possessed was more than capable enough. That she didn’t need another battle skill, because she already had one. Lyra didn’t need to wield a sword any more than Doya needed to wield Arcanite. Taking her lower lip between her teeth, the elf bit down softly in contemplation. Just why was she going to such extremes to learn a skill she had obviously failed at so many times back home? Did she really think a new environment was going to produce new results? Well, while that certainly could be true, why was she trying so hard to fit into that mold her mother wanted her to be? Why couldn’t she just be… who she wanted to be? Who did she want to be anyway? Who exactly was Lyra?

At the mention of calligraphy and drawing, Lyra lifted her gaze to meet the other woman’s, finding that common ground between them. “That I can relate to…” Being a child of those in high circles, Lyra had been taught the arts, as well. It was only natural for those of her status, regardless of any of her other failings. Music, dance, art, drawing, embroidery, among other things. A cultured lady held value beyond her appearance. Something in the way that Doya related drawing a line with a brush resonated with her, more than anything else she had said before. That was something she could visualize, something she could relate to. She remembered all the times she had started a drawing, been interrupted, or lost focus, and ruined whatever it was she was attempting, all because a single line was out of place or she hesitated. Her research had been like that once upon a time, too, where hesitation and lack of confidence that nearly disastrous results.

Lyra glanced down at her injured arm, frowning slightly. She had tried something silly, without proper training, and hurt herself. Although her Soul had absorbed most of the damage, her concentration had faltered and now the crimson stain on her sleeve was the result. She’d have to bandage that later, and then wash and mend her outfit. A flicker of a smile was brought to her lips as she imagined Marlowe fussing over the small gash on her arm. This was nothing compared to what else lay beneath those thin fabrics.

She flinched as Doya accused her of not believing she could win her duel against Velvet. It was true, after all. Even before the fight began, she didn’t think she stood a chance against the Silenus woman. She barely lasted a few minutes against her teleporting opponent and had barely gotten more than a single spell off in that timeframe. Her own brows were furrowed as she narrowed her eyes, looking up at Doya. She opened her mouth to protest, but how could she speak out against the truth of the matter? Instead, she let out a sigh as the other woman continued. Versatility, was it? How was that better than being skilled with a weapon?

As Doya reached out for her shoulders, Lyra instinctively flinched away from her hands, moving to dodge the touch, but Doya was gentle and moved slower. After a moment, she relented, Doya’s fingertips resting against her shoulders, looking into her eyes. It was like a smack to the face the way Doya phrased her next words. Those powder blue silvery eyes widened and she felt her hand holding the sword go slack, nearly dropping the weapon for the umpteenth time, but she held on, if only barely. Lyra felt her body tremble, long after Doya let go of her. She didn’t even register that Doya was smiling at her, hoping that her words had been encouraging. Instead, the elf just stared blankly ahead, the gears in her head turning and thoughts running a mile a minute.

Had… that really been what Ettinus had been trying to get her to realize? All the way back on her very first day here? He had certainly seen something in her then, and Lyra even agreed with him, in a manner of speaking. She had so wanted to believe that she could live up to that dream of being one of its very best champions, but somehow, she had lost her way. Had she really been so caught up in her own mind, in her memories and obligations and trying to live up to someone else’s ideals that she had lost her footing and started down the wrong path? After all that talking with Azir about making this path her own, and him forging his own path, too, and here she was, being self-sabotaging on her own path.

Lyra clenched her teeth, her jaw tightening as her eyes refocused on Doya, like she was seeing her for the first time. Those silvery eyes glossed over with unshed tears as she declared that Lyra was enough. She was enough for her team, for the academy, for herself. She was enough. Had that been all she needed to hear? She’d been so concerned with disappointing others, disappointing her mother, her teammates, everyone, that she had started to lose sight of the path ahead of her. A path she had once decided to walk on her own, by her own choices and abilities. Not using her mother’s influence. Her own worth. And she had nearly forgotten that, blinded by her insecurities and her mistakes. She had let her fear control her actions.

But not anymore.

A smile slowly crept back to her face as she clenched her hands into fists, one balled up in the fabrics of her skirt while the other held fast to the sword in her grasp. “Thank you, Doya. Thank you for that… I… I did not realize,” she started, but paused, clearing her throat. “Realize I needed to hear that.” With a shuddering breath, she looked down at the sword in her hand again, like she was seeing it for the first time once more. Frowning, she gave it another practice swing off to the side, without dropping it this time. “Perhaps you are right. I thought I needed this. That I needed something tangible to fight. A sword, dagger, spear. Just something. I still do not think my skills are a thing to be admired, but… They are mine, and mine alone.”

Turning towards the training dummy, Lyra took a step towards it, swinging the sword with enough force that it got caught in one of the joints. Instead of pulling it free, she left it there as is, taking a step back from it as she turned her gaze down to her now empty hands. Well, to her bracelets, specifically. She flexed her fingers, clenching them into gentle fists and then releasing, over and over, like she was testing the waters of something fresh and new. “Maybe I was going about this the wrong way. You helped me see that. I still do not know how much help it can be, but I realize I just need… Need to try. I have been scared of disappointing people. Every time I tried using this ability of mine, something has gone wrong. But…” She scoffed, her eyes drifting to the cut on her arm again. “Even trying to use a sword, something still went wrong. I am beginning to think it is me that is wrong, not the skill.” She sighed deeply, shaking her head.

“This ability of mine still has limitations. My bracelets help, but only so much. I must sacrifice speed and convenience for better mobility and stability. I cannot risk dropping them in the heat of the moment.” At her words, she pulled off one of the golden Arcanite-laden bangles from her wrist, using her index and middle fingers, as well as her thumb, to split the ring into multiple as it unfolded into a sphere that she held in her palm. “I can draw out the elements embedded within faster this way, but I risk so much relying on holding onto this. If I drop them, I risk hindering my abilities and losing an heirloom.” Curling her fingers in on themselves, she collapsed the sphere back into its ring form, slipping it back over her hand to settle on her wrist.

“Like this,” she raised her hands up in front of her, palms inward, showcasing the bracelets to Doya. “I can focus more on movement, but I have to concentrate on drawing the proper Negalu instead. It takes longer, but it is safer, I think, in combat where mobility is paramount, or in places where it is inconvenient to hold them.” In her mind flashed Dazzle & Dust, where she had dropped one of her expanded bracelets after being blown out of the window in the explosion and how panicked she had become trying to locate it after. Another instance was during the field trial, where she had been able to combine her skills to better effect by keeping them collapsed on her wrists in their inactivated form. It had been slower, but the range of abilities she could utilized had grown.

With a sparkle in her eyes, Lyra turned to fully face towards Doya, a grin clear across her face. It was like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. “Spar with me, Doya. Let me test a few things out. If I am to be a better member of Gravity, a better fighter, a better Champion, I need to reduce the time it takes for me to cast. I cannot do that effectively against a training dummy that will wait for me forever.” Slowly, she slid one foot backwards, as if she were preparing a fighting stance, for that was exactly what she was doing. “I need to go against someone else. Someone on my level, or better. Someone like you. So, please, Doya, will you train with me?”

-End Scene-

[Intimate Ink]

Character Name: Vesper Cabello
Date | Time: October 30th | Morning
Location: Training Halls
Wearing: Almond athleisure clothes
Tagging | Mentioning: Meena |

“Well… yes,” Vesper’s lips twitched, representing a crack in his stoic countenance that he had worn frequently since he arrived. Maybe it should sound absurd to him, much as he was starting to wonder if it sounded to Meena – maybe it was absurd. The truth was that growing up in Gorren’s Point you didn’t exactly get the latest video games… or, well, typically any video games coming in on the infrequent supply lines. Play usually had a touch of recklessness to it, and lobbing arrows in the direction of someone who was ‘bored’ (provided that their soul was in working order… something that Vesper’s shimmer would one day complicate,) didn’t feel uncommon. Mind you, messing with the inertia and trajectory of arrows seemed more like the kind of half-baked scheme Kato would concoct and pull Vesper in on… in the absence of his brother, though, Vesper supposed that he would have to improvise roles from now on.

Unlike Kato would have, at least, Vesper seemed to have prepared to come in with some level of rationalization for the thing. ”You’re right, I recognize it was unplanned in the moment. Maybe on some level even a level of luck..,” Vesper paused dramatically, adding like the cajoling voice upon the shoulder. ”Imagine what it might look like, though, if there was no improv or luck to it. Maybe it would look – be – that much more impressive by comparison. It sounds like gRAVIty could be using some points in our favor…”

Vesper shrugged, willing to largely drop the convincing since it seemed that Meena didn’t need all that much to begin with. She was, after all, the one that had dragged his skeptical and wary ass into the worst part of Onyx when he still barely knew the academy. Well… ‘dragged’. Maybe Vesper had more volunteered his skepticism in hopes of not hearing his teammates ran straight into a gang hangout, complete with Farrah applying some logic that anyone using an automatic weapon was a ‘pussy’ and therefore only counted as a quarter person when calculating odds. Regardless, they had managed to leave that encounter physically unscathed (even if Irena’s presence proved to make psychic damage a much more real and unexpected consequence.)

“Okay, I’ll start slow and right down the center…. I can see where some speed and angles might help us, but it seems to make sense to try it as basic as possible before hopefully moving on to something more complicated.” Vesper was glad, at least, his weapon allowed the subtle mystical adjustments that gave more control of the arrows’ velocity than he could otherwise. He waited for the word of the Silenus and a suitable whir of impressive motion before taking aim, then firing.

[Crash]

Character Name: Meena Tor
Date | Time: October 30h | Morning
Location: Training Room
Wearing: Matching Black Long sleeved top and athletic pants with silver piping.
Tagging | Mentioning: Vesper
"Poooooo," Meena's lips made a slight popping noise with her exhale.  "You ain't kidding," she agreed.  The team they had been placed on had been taking a lot of "Ls" lately and honestly hadn't started from a genuine place of strength to begin with.  As excited as her team had been about the Unity Championship, gRAVity wasn't anywhere near contention to be one of the teams selected by Hammer Academy.  They couldn't even get out of their own way half the time.  "We can use all the help we can get."

While Meena wound up Heath of the Mountain, she never stopped talking.  It might seem like she was distracted or unserious about what was about to occur, but she knew Heart of the Mountain; she could feel the subtle shifts of density.  The gentle tug of its gravity well.  It was a part of her now after all these years.

"Thanks for helping, by the way," Meena had thanked Vesper several times already, but she was really thankful he had been there, especially with her disastrous handling of Ireena.  Not that she could have foreseen Farrah's little ruse would have backfired so spectacularly in such a weird way, but no matter how much Meena attempted to make it right after the fact, Ireena wanted to hear nothing from the tall Silenus woman. "I tried talking to Ireena again," Meena said as the first arrow whizzed towards her.  Even without a full draw, Vesper's arrow zipped swiftly towards her.  Meena was able to deflect the arrow with a spin of the wooden haft, but deflecting the arrow was not the intent of the exercise.

Meena's face scrunched in thought, shifting her left foot back so her body turned to a three-quarter facing. "Let's try that," she said as much to herself as to Vesper and continued the spin of the enormous war maul.  "She slammed the door in my face and threatened to throw…well. Let's just say she's really mad still." Meena watched Vesper notch another arrow and draw. "Same place, okay," Meena asked, her motions seeming almost languid in their smoothness.  "Have you tried talking to her yet?" She asked just before another arrow whizzed towards her. 

This time, the arrow's trajectory deviated towards the floor when it neared the spinning head of the hammer and "thunked" into the ground. "Hey! It worked!" she said with a grin as her hammer spun to a stop, and she gave Vesper an enthusiastic thumbs-up. Sure, it wasn't exactly the result they wanted, but it was at least repeatable proof of concept.

"Maybe not directly at me this time?  More to the hammer side?" Meena suggested. "Unless you have another idea?" 

[Intimate Ink]

Character Name: Vesper Cabello
Date | Time: October 14th | Late Morning (~10:30am)
Location: Hammer Academy - Training Hall
Wearing: Layered, soft neutrals
Tagging | Mentioning: Lyra | Haim

Vesper wasn’t unaware that Lyra’s complements came veiled with a certain manner of poison, albeit aimed at another. Even by most settlements’ standards, Gorren’s Point was small, the border constantly under threat not only by the Hollow but the unforgiving nature of the surrounding swamplands. The language Lyra spoke was the language of turbulent co-existence… It was one Vesper was familiar hearing, albeit in a different context. ”Your view of the bow is flattering… For all that I seem to have been selected for It rather than the other way around, I can’t say that I’ve ever longed for another style of weapon.” He treaded the speech of a diplomat, trying to avoid the pitfalls of inviting the strife that he had so apparently walked into.

The attention he gave the unresolved fight melted into wonder at Lyra’s handling of magic, though. By Gorren’s Point standards Vesper was a prodigy, and yet he could barely fathom the more casual ways she drew upon the power of arcanite. She outright subverted the process of Negalu, which Vesper had always considered an art itself that he was proud to be schooled in. He watched the display of fire, mouth quirking in a smile, but his eyes showing a child’s pleasure. For a moment it was as if seeing Emerald for the first time again.

”You certainly are impressive…” Still, more than the raw power itself, Vesper’s mind turned with the potential utility of the elf’s magic that resided beyond the battle-field. For Vesper’s Uncle, magic was simply another weapon; he didn’t blame the thinking. Most things were to be consumed, turned into shelter, or utilized in battle back in Vesper’s home. Everything Vesper was deliberately taught seemed to fall neatly in those categories, even if his own innate tendencies towards introspection drew him into philosophizing and the occasional fine art. This… this was something different, though.

Despite the impressive show of Lyra, Vesper was not within his own pride. At a request for a demonstration. he drew an air-inscribed arrow. To demonstrate the power that came from his bow as well as the arrow, upon drawing it he pooled his concentration through the ancient wood. At the last moment he shifted his aim left; any normal bow would have promised a misfire with such a shot, but instead as the arrow sang through the arrow towards the practice dummy it curved. It changed trajectory as if influenced by heavy gusts that were not within the halls and embedded itself into the training dummy’s side.

For a moment it seemed that was the extent of impact, though in the following quiet a loud snapping crackle filled the air. The dummy expanded, as blasts of air forced their way through the core, causing pieces to break off as the pressure swelled within it. It distorted, though never shattered, the already singed figure. Where holes punctured in it, a strange breeze temporarily flowed with an audible hiss, pressure leaving through the newly formed wounds.

[Intimate Ink]

Character Name: Vesper Cabello
Date | Time: October 30th | Morning
Location: Training Halls
Wearing: Almond athleisure clothes
Tagging | Mentioning: Meena |

”You’re welcome… but you also don’t have to keep thanking me.” Vesper replied with a twitching smile at Meena’s repeated sentiment. Honestly, at the time he wasn’t sure what he had stepped into when inserting himself in Meena and Farrah’s plans. He had neither been enthusiastic about wandering around and looking for trouble on an enemies’ own turf, nor leaving Farrah and Meenah to fend for themselves. It was the kind of situation that stood in stark contrast to the regimens, routines, and calculated risks at Gorren’s Point. Everything had its place, and if that was disturbed there was always the threat of lives being lost… And not just your own. Vesper’s mind had begun to tease at the question of how rules meant something different in this new environment, but for the moment it was still something abstract.

”I haven’t seen her again…” Vesper’s voice trails off, uneasy about his feelings. ”If I’m being honest, I’ve hoped she wasn’t there to see. It sounds like this… isn’t a good place for her or her family. Her interest in staying put seems to be a hope that someone who will never return is going to, after all.” Maybe Vesper was being biased. He was, after all, rather preoccupied with justifying the fact that he was no longer In Kantos, or even Emerald.

”The thought did occur to me to try and find someone at the academy who might have use of hiring her. It seems at least better than being where she is, but that’s not an easy order…” Vesper sighed slightly, shaking his head. He didn’t like feeling helpless, and that seemed to be a recurrent feeling.

One of the few things Vesper had found to address those feelings, at least, included focusing on things he that could address. Even if that meant a drop in the bucket of a score that he could only imagine was abysmally plummeting with the recent struggles of his team.

”Aiming more at the hammer it is…” Vesper paused, considering, ”Maybe more concentration on my side is needed too… the magic in my bow allows me to control the direction and velocity to a degree. I’ve never… really tested seeing how much or little I can change the trajectory of an arrow after it ricochets into something else that is moving, though, let alone a hammer. I guess this is the point to try, right?”

Vesper shrugged and pulled back his arrow, letting several take flight, all the while observing the results, trying to establish links between his actions and Meena’s own.

[Crash]

Character Name: Meena Tor
Date | Time: October 30h | Morning
Location: Training Room
Wearing: Matching Black Long sleeved top and athletic pants with silver piping.
Tagging | Mentioning: Vesper
Meena nodded in sympathetic agreement. The woman was in an untenable situation, in part because of Meena. Now, Meena didn’t know the man Farrah had referred to was dead until much later, but that didn’t stop Meena from feeling bad about the ruse or help Ireena understand that she was waiting for someone who was dead and gone.
 
The “womp, womp, womp’ of her spinning hammer resounded dully in her ears as Meena readied for another arrow.  “Ooh, that’s a good idea,” Meena said with a nod.  She hadn’t thought about seeking academy help. “Do you think we should ask, Shir?” Meena asked as she spun the hammer up to speed and waited for Vesper to launch another arrow at her. 

“Oh wow.  You can do that?” Meena asked, clearly impressed. It had never occurred to her that someone could do something like that.  “That’s amazing,” She could see the slight turn of his body, the tip of his arrow shifting off to her left. 

“Exactly!” Meena agreed with a grin as Vesper loosed one arrow after another just as Heart of the Mountain passed in front of Meena.  The arrows bent, from the hammer or from Vesper, Meena didn’t know for sure, but the gravity well of Heart of the Mountain caught it. With a snap of Meena’s wrists, she whipped it up around with a whip-like crack, sending the arrows whizzing in all sorts of directions.

“Oh shoot!  Sorrysorrysorry!” She called as at least one of the arrows whizzed by him. A couple managed to hit two targets, and one was lodged in the ceiling. Meena’s nose wrinkled, and her face scrunched with a wince.  “Sooooorrrrry,” she added quietly, looking up at the one in the ceiling. 

“Maybe I can get Velvet to get it down for you?” Meena suggested looking back at Vesper.  “But hey, that was better, wasn’t it?  Meena always tried to look at the bright side of things.  It was progress, after all.

“Wanna keep going?”

[FyreFoxx]

Character Name: Lyreilynn "Lyra" Xyrven Myalis
Date | Time: October 14th | Late Morning (~10:30am)
Location: Hammer Academy - Library (4th Floor) -> Training Hall
Wearing: White embroided blouse, long light blue ombre skirt, dark blue cloth belt, light blue overjacket, laced low-heeled boots (but in white!)
Tagging | Mentioning: Vesper |

Lyra felt a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, a faint coloring rising to her cheeks at his compliment. “It is nothing as impressive as you make it seem,” she said softly, lowering her hand towards her waist, but kept a hold of the sphere in her grasp. It was not that she was intentionally downplaying her skills; she truly did not think them very impressive when compared to others who wielded weapons of war.
 
She had always seen it as little more than a silly hobby that she could use proficiently, something without practical purpose. While true that the elemental magic that was drawn forth was potent and could be wielded with deadly force, it wasn’t something she had quite the mind for yet. It was merely child’s play, like a youngling struggling to swing a sword effectively. It was something that needed fine tuning but seemingly skipped over.
 
Lyra stepped to the side to allow Vesper ample room for his own demonstration at her request. Those pale silvery eyes watched him carefully as he drew back the bowstring, taking careful notice of what he was doing all the while. Her gaze flickered to the training dummy and she almost missed him adjusting his aim at the last second. Brow furrowed, Lyra opened her mouth to question why he intentionally missed the mark, but quickly shut it as her eyes tracked the arrow.
 
With wide eyes, she watched the arrow arc in mid-flight, curving effortlessly to hit the side of the dummy. “Impressive. So, you—” She trailed off, her attention snapping from Vesper back to the training dummy as the figure expanded, pieces breaking off as if exploding from within. She raised an eyebrow at that display, slowly turning her head to look back at Vesper with renewed interest and appeal. “Definitely impressive. A curved shot that utilizes… air currents? Negalu? Or was that the work of your shimmer? I saw fire etched into your arrows earlier, but that certainly was not fire arcanite at work. Are you drawing upon the Negalu etched into the shafts or is there something else special with the bow itself?”
 
Quietly, she mused over this new prospect as she let him explain, folding up the sphere in her hand before slipping the bangle back over her wrist. Raising a hand to her face, she tapped a finger alongside her jaw, elbow resting against the wrist of the arm crossed over her midsection. “You inscribe your arrows ahead of time, yes? How long does that normally take you? And what happens after you fire them? Are you able to retrieve the arrows and reuse them, or does the force of the Negalu destroy them?” Lyra glanced at the training dummy, where his arrow was still stuck into it, but from that distance, she couldn’t be sure if the arrow shaft was still in usable condition. “Is it something you can only do once before needing to inscribe them again?”

[Intimate Ink]

Character Name: Vesper Cabello
Date | Time: October 14th | Late Morning (~10:30am)
Location: Hammer Academy - Training Hall
Wearing: Layered, soft neutrals
Tagging | Mentioning: Lyra |

Vesper took a deep breath at the favorable reaction. He was still trying to find the place that he fit here… Honestly, he was still trying to justify that he fit here at all. Perhaps that was an absurd notion given his most identifiable fault in not being originally selected was not being present at Hammer to be tested at the correct time. Maybe he was not as strong or sturdy as some of their teammates, but he was still fit, and battle honed. That did not mean, however, that he had confidence he would be recognized; he also worried that he would fail to stand out in a positive way when the time came for that.

Recognition from a teammate who did amazing feats – even if she did not see them in such a way – certainly helped. He gave a nod towards his bow at the question, ”It is both. The bow itself was forged with air arcanite… it is a… Treasure from my family.” Vesper pulled out another arrow from his quiver, to help this visual demonstration. ”The arrows are my own work, though air negalu is often used in my arrows if I give them special properties. Other times fire, as you’ve seen. The power of the bow my guide the arrow, but it is up to me to give it any particular effect after that….”

Vesper shrugged at the question of durability, ”I would not particularly say the process of inscribing generally makes the arrows any more or less fragile. If they survive or not largely depends on what I’m firing at and their effect…” With a somewhat playful frown, the archer offered, ”Generally speaking, sending things up in flame on contact doesn’t speak well to the survivability of arrows, for instance.”

The truth was that Vesper hadn’t quite thought of all the ways his life might change being part of Hammer yet at Lyra’s question of time. It was… something that he’d have to consider. ”I… Well, if I’m being honest, they tend to take quite a bit of time on my part. Especially the fire ones…” His lips twitched as if referencing his stubbornness to work with fire anyway by virtue (or fault?) of his sibling. ”I suppose I hadn’t quite thought too much of it, though, because it’s not like there was a lot going on in Gorren’s Point to do with my downtime. I suspect that I might need to find a way to get quicker at it… or at least avoid distraction.”

Vesper paused, pulling a handful of arrows to show their rune-free status. ”It’s not like every arrow I fire has Negalu, though… Far from. The vast majority are standard. I suppose my Shimmer can sometimes make that less so, but that is not something… I myself really understand all that well. I don’t think about that more times than not, it’s too much relying on an ace in the deck.”

Cocking his head a bit, he glanced at his arrows, ”I suppose to some people it might be tedious, but it’s not like we had massive amounts of Arcanite, especially hard Arcanite, coming into Gorren’s Point. It’s a way of making do with a scarce resource…” With a slightly lowered voice, Vesper added, ”Though if I’m honest I’ve always been strangely proud of them. Like I’m still bringing something into the world instead of just taking it away.”

[FyreFoxx]

Character Name: Lyreilynn "Lyra" Xyrven Myalis
Date | Time: October 14th | Late Morning (~10:30am)
Location: Hammer Academy - Library (4th Floor) -> Training Hall
Wearing: White embroided blouse, long light blue ombre skirt, dark blue cloth belt, light blue overjacket, laced low-heeled boots (but in white!)
Tagging | Mentioning: Vesper |


Lyra nodded at his words, letting her eyes drop down to the bow he held in his grasp. Forged with white arcanite. “So, it has an air imbuement. That certainly answers that question.” There was that flicker of a smile, tilting her head to one side as she lifted a hand and indicated her bracelets. “These are also a treasure from my family. Although, they did not know what they were capable of until I got them.” Letting her hands rest comfortably at her side, Lyra glanced back towards the training dummy. An air-imbued bow and air-inscribed arrows certainly made a devastating combo.
 
There was a slight laugh as Vesper gave her that frown and visual of the arrows burning up. “No, I certainly suppose not. But of the ones that you do recover, do you need to inscribed them a second time or could you reuse them as is?” Lyra reached up to tuck loosened strands behind an ear, letting her eyes drift towards his quiver a moment. “I would assume you would be able to reuse them right away, yes?” The act of using Negalu meant drawing upon its internal elemental power, rather than activating the Arcanite itself, so it stood to reason that the effect should be permanent, if the inscription remained intact and he continued to draw upon it properly. But then there was the act of inscribing it itself. How was that even possible? Powder blue gaze travelled down to her bracelets, a small frown crossing her lips. Even knowing the why and the how of what her bracelets did what they did, did not mean she understood and could replicate the inscription process like he could. It was something unique to him. And that intrigued her.
 
Glancing at the plain arrows, she nodded. “Well, that makes sense. It would take a lot of time and effort to make so many, yes? I take it you only use the Negalu inscribed ones when it is important? How do you tell them apart at a glance?” Lyra looked at the fletching to see if perhaps they were marked in some manner that would be easy to tell them apart when a bundle of arrows were in his quiver. “You should be, I think. I have never heard of someone doing what you do before. Not even in any of the text I have read. The way you use Negalu and Arcanite together in the inscription process seems to be unique. I know how to draw some of the Negalu, but inscribing it? That is not in my repertoire.”
 
A thought came to her, crossing one arm over her stomach while the other hand was raised to her face, a forefinger touching the tip of her chin. “Your shimmer. You mentioned it, but did not say what it did. I mentioned what mine does. Care to share yours? Why did you call it an… What was it? ‘Ace in the deck’?” There was a pause, tearing her gaze from the taller human back towards the dummy once more, her eyes falling upon the singed mark with a slight frown. “Although, perhaps I could lead with mine? I did promise a demonstration, and while that did show some of my skills, it was not my shimmer at work. If you’d rather, I could show you that before you tell me?”