Way of the Sword
Log Info
- Title: Way of the Sword
- Emitter: Ravenstongue
- Characters: Aryia, Ravenstongue
- Place: Ravenstongue and Telamon's house
- Summary: Ravenstongue is trying to teach herself how to wield a sword in preparation for a showdown with the demon woman while the garden pixies Mirabilis and Lily-of-the-Valley cheer her own. Aryia drops by for a visit and steps inside, ready to teach her how to wield the blade, and actually gets along with Lily-of-the-Valley. After talking briefly about their encounter with the Queen of Air and Darkness, Aryia and Ravenstongue engage in a crash course of weapons training via wooden practice blade and dowel rod.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Dramatis Personae =--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Aryia 4'8" 110 Lb Shadow Elf Female A heavily scarred mul with a resolved look about her. Ravenstongue 5'0" 99 Lb Half-Elf Female Short half-elf girl with violet eyes and black hair. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-=-= NPCs of Note =-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Lily-of-the-Valley Pixie Female A blonde pixie who is a massive fangirl. Mirabilis Pixie Female A green-haired pixie who tolerates Lily's existence. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
- Lúpecyll-Atlon residence, evening.
>SWISH< >SWISH< >SWISH<
Cor'lana huffs and pants, sweat dripping down her brow as she lowers a wooden sword. The coffee table has been pushed off to the side to create an open space in the living room. The sorceress is wearing a short, knee-length lavender-colored dress with short puff sleeves at the shoulders, the neckline high enough to hide the feather mark on her chest. She looks like she's dressed for a tea party rather than for training, but it's not the worst pick in the world for some physical activity.
Two small creatures, easily mistaken for butterflies, sit from a safe distance on the back of the couch. Upon closer inspection, they're actually very small ladies: a dark-skinned girl with plant-green braids that cascade down her back, and a fair-skinned girl with blonde ringlets that frame her face. Both of them have pitch-black eyes reminiscent of insect eyes, and they are respectively dressed in hot pink and white dresses made from flower petals.
"Yeah! YEAH! GO GET 'EM, LADY LÚPECYLL! FUCK THEM UP!" the blonde roars, shaking two 'pom-poms' that are actually just daffodil heads. "She won't know what hit her!"
"Language, Lily-of-the-Valley," the verdette says with a sigh. "But yes, Lady Lúpecyll--we support you every step of the way."
Cor'lana wipes the sweat off her forehead, smiling as she looks at the two pixies. "Thanks, Mirabilis," she says, smiling at the green-haired pixie. "You too, Lily."
Everything's fine. It's not like Cor'lana is practicing with a sword she's never been trained with, working on stabbing a person that could blow out a building's support with a single punch or anything. Right?
No reason to be antsy or jumpy. Right?
>THUD THUD THUD< comes from the door.
Opening/peeking through a window would show a familiar looking mul'neissa woman (not the one the sword is supposed to go into. No, the other one. The other other--yes, that one.) Her hair is up in a bun with some sticks put through it to keep it pressed against her head, naked sleeves on a white shirt with brown shorts adorn her, as well as a bag strapped across her shoulder.
She also has a wooden dowel rod in hand, about a yard in length.
Cor'lana jumps a little with the knocking that comes from her front door. "Shit," she says, quietly, and her eyes flash over to the pixies. "Go check and see who that is."
Mirabilis opens up her mouth to talk, perhaps a well-reasoned, "Okay, I'll go check," but Lily-of-the-Valley roars as she springs up from the back of the coach, wings flapping like a hummingbird's with all the frenzy in her tiny little body. "If it's that demon bitch coming for a second round, I'm gonna...! I'm gonna...!"
She shoots from the living room to the front door and peeks briefly through a window. Lily-of-the-Valley throws her hands up in the air, fists ready to go. "I think it's her! I'M GONNA--"
Thankfully, Mirabilis follows right after and just shoves Lily-of-the-Valley out of the way, carefully analyzing Aryia from the window. "No, that is not the demon," she states. "She wouldn't be able to get this close to the household. All clear, Lady Lúpecyll."
Cor'lana stalks her way over to the front door, wooden sword still in hand anyway as she goes to open the front door. "Aryia!" she says with a smile, although the dark circles under her eyes tell a different story. "How are you doing?"
GAME: Aryia rolls perception: (2)+30: 32
The mute's attention flickers over towards the window, but to a different one as an ear flicks. Catching some of the muffled conversation, but unsure of where it was. Shining eyes behind shades peer up towards Cor'lana. She gives a wave from the hip, her glancing down towards the wooden sword then back up to the fey-touched.
A free hand raises. "Good. Yourself? Who else is here? I heard someone."
She shifts a bit. It's hot outside. "... sorry about A-P-O-T-H-E-O-S-I-S," she gestures a bit lamely. Never really one to be good at expressing herself. <Handspeech>
"Woah, those shades are cool!" says a voice in the room that definitely doesn't belong to Cor'lana. This is followed by a smacking sound and a "Shh!"--and the frantic beating of butterfly wings that, really, are only a few feet away.
Things look different since the last time Aryia's been in the house. There are plants everywhere--mostly vines curled artfully around the hallways and furniture, although there are flowers here and there as well. Cor'lana, however, looks mostly mortified as she looks over at the pixies, then back at Aryia. "Sorry," she says. "The garden pixies are keeping me company since Pothy's gone and Tel's stepped out for some shopping and errands."
"Your friend looks super-duper-cool, Lady Lúpecyll!" Lily-of-the-Valley says with awe in her eyes. "I mean, wow! Look at her! Hey, cool lady, what's you--"
"Lily, please," Mirabilis says with a sigh. "We are Lady Lúpecyll's servants. Please call me Mirabilis, and my pixie-sister is called Lily-of-the-Valley."
Cor'lana smiles a little bashfully. "They liven up the day," she says. "Come on in. I can make some tea."
The open door makes it easier to pick out the small voices and beating of wings. Picked up by long ears that twitch and flick. She squints a bit, pulling her shades down and off, stashing them away onto her collar. She raises a hand-
Glances to Cor'lana-
Her hand shifts a bit to say, "You may call me A-R-Y-I-A." Lessons learned, a slight flicker of a smile. "Your words are appreciated." Gestures, but understood nonetheless.
She slides in, a foot slipping back to nudge the door shut. "Tea sounds good. Let me guess, you're practicing," she mentions, gesturing towards the wooden sword with the wooden dowel rod. <Handspeech/Tongues>
Cor'lana makes a motion at the door, and the sound of a lock clicks into place. She nods to Aryia as she walks into the living room. "Yeah," she says, putting the wooden sword against the couch. "I figured if I'm the one tasked with wielding the thing--I haven't let anyone touch it, and I've only touched it to move it around--I might as well learn how to actually use a sword."
The pixies fly in behind Cor'lana, although Lily lags behind a tad to stay close to Aryia. "Aryia? That's a cool name, too! It sounds like 'Aria'!" Lily-of-the-Valley says excitedly. "La-la-lee-la~--"
"Please don't annoy the Lady's guest, Lily-of-the-Valley," Mirabilis admonishes as she follows Cor'lana into the kitchen.
This gets a 'harrumph' from Lily-of-the-Valley. "Spoilsport," she says, before she looks back at Aryia again, excitement settling back into her face again. "Hey, you look strong. Do you know how to like, kill people with swords? Or OOOH, maybe you break them with your BARE FISTS?"
Meanwhile, the Pothy plushie sits in waiting on the couch. It's clearly seen a lot of love the past few days.
Aryia watches the wooden sword a moment. "You're tasked to make sure it doesn't fall into wrong hands, or kill Fey with it. Anyone can wield it." She grimaces. "I don't want to though. Thing looks fucking spooky."
A pause. "... I can teach you some. I know how to use a sword."
Her attention twirls over to the pixies. Shining, glowing eyes watching Lily bouncing about. Their voices were so small, but sounded clear as day. She stares.
Stares.
Stares.
"I punch boulders and break people in half with my bare hands, yes," she motions in a deadpan manner. <Handspeech>
Lily-of-the-Valley practically vibrates, a wide, wide grin spreading across her face. "That's so fucking cool," she whispers. Then again, louder: "That's SO COOL. Lady Lúpecyll, your friends are AWESOME. You should bring more of them here!"
"Still," Cor'lana says as she comes out of the kitchen holding two cups of tea on a small tray. "I was tasked with it. I swore not to let it fall into enemy hands. So I should probably figure out how to use it to some degree. Training sounds like a good idea."
She looks over at the coffee table that's been scooted off to the side and sets the tray down, then picks up a teacup and sips it as she sits down on the couch. The Pothy plushie gets scooped up and put in her lap.
Aryia can't help but smirk, her thumbing her nose. "Appreciated."
She turns to Cor'lana, her lips twisting off to the side. "That's why I brought a stick. I used to be a duelist. I can show you some stuff. Just don't tell my mom."
Her gaze drops to the plushy. Eyes dim a touch. "... brave of him," she motions, stooping down to scoop up a cup and take a sip. Pinky out, of course. <Handspeech>
Cor'lana blinks a couple of times at the mention of (one of) Aryia's former occupations. "Seems like you used to be a lot of things," she says, smiling a little. "Tel said that's pretty common with fullblooded elves, though. Can and will reinvent themselves a few times over the span of a life."
She takes a sip of the tea. It's lavender-mint tea, and it's pretty good. Mirabilis flies out of the kitchen to sit on the back of the couch, too, but with her own very tiny tea cup.
Lily-of-the-Valley nods solemnly at the mention of Pothy. "The bravest bird there ever was," she says. Then the excitement return to her eyes as she looks at Cor'lana. "You should give him a knighthood, Lady Lúpecyll! When he comes back, that is!"
Cor'lana coughs on her tea, but it turns into a laugh once the tea finally goes down the right pipe. "I'm not a queen," she says. "Don't want to be. Unless it's Tel's usual pet name for me."
Lily-of-the-Valley sighs wistfully, flapping close to Aryia. "Really, descended from nobility and you don't want to be surrounded by hot men all day, eating fruit out of your hands and off of your--"
"Lily," Mirabilis says coolly. "Leave it for the fanfiction."
Aryia gives a slow nod. "My mom's family is known for being duelists. My dad, magic. I hate using swords, but I can show you with this." She holds up the dowel rod, then gives it a light toss towards an empty spot on the sofa.
She bobs her head in agreement about the tea before setting it back on the tray. A glance to Lily.
A blink and a brow raise that goes nearly up to her hairline. Queen was a pet name?
Sip.
The mute pugilist watches the pixie drawing closer. She blinks. Then smirks a bit. "I mean, I did that for a stint. Noble shit, men and women all around. It's pretty great."
Siiiiiiiiiiiiiip.
"... I'd read it." <Handspeech>
Cor'lan blushes a little. "Yes. He calls me the queen of his heart," she says, and a fond smile creeps onto her face. "He's... honestly too good for me."
Lily-of-the-Valley looks at Aryia with a giddy laugh. "Oh my gosh, you would? Not even Mirabilis will read it! I keep trying to get her to, but--"
"I'm not reading your smut about our employers," Mirabilis says flatly. "It just isn't happening. No. N. O."
"Yeah, okay, you bump on the log. Sheesh. Anyway, I'm thinking about submitting it to the Crimson Pen," Lily-of-the-Valley says.
This makes Cor'lana choke on her tea again. "Lily, please. I might actually die," she protests. "Besides, I'm not famous--"
She just shakes her head. "Forget it, I'm not even going to continue arguing about it. Aryia, I would love some training."
"Yeah! You gotta teach Lady Lúpecyll how to fuck up that demon girl!" Lily-of-the-Valley cheers.
Aryia chuffs, shaking her head. "Cute. I guess that cute shit got us through... whatever the fuck," she vaguely waves off, her visage darkening at the thought of how that went. She rubs at her hands.
The mute turns towards the little pixie and gives a light nod. "I'll read it if you do that," she gives a thumbs up, much to Cor'lana's chagrin.
She looks to the fey-touched woman, and she leans over to pick up the rod. "I'm used to light blades, so it's probably different with that thing. However, it still a sword. So..."
She huffs, rubbing her face with her signing hand before giving the wooden stick a twirl and straightening her back. It raises, then levels out. After a beat or two, the tip stays still. "You need to get used to holding it. If you can't hold it for an extended period of time, it's just going to pop out of your hand before it can pierce anything."
She makes an advancing motion, doing a one-two >woosh woosh< of the stick. The mute isn't going full speed. Slow and deliberate. "Once you get used to holding it, you'll then have to learn to respect the weight. Overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer." <Handspeech>
Cor'lana observes Aryia's instructions with rapt attention, her eyes taking in the motions and in the way Aryia holds herself and the blade. Finally, she hops up from the couch and takes up the wooden practice sword. "Like this?" she asks, mimicking the stance. "I'm not practicing with that blade until I build up more stamina with this one--I read somewhere that was ideal for beginners--but I can at least learn the proper form."
Mirabilis watches approvingly. Lily-of-the-Valley, however, cheers, "You look great, Lady Lúpecyll! Your dress will be dyed with demon blood in no time!"
Then she blinks. "Do... Demons bleed?" she asks. "I hope they do. Lady Lúpecyll deserves some CARNAGE after what that lady did to Lord Lúpecyll-to-be!"
Apparently that's how Telamon is known to the pixies.
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Charisma: (9)+6: 15 (Mindscar DC) GAME: Aryia rolls will: (6)+17: 23
Aryia observes Cor'lana a moment overlong before tucking the rod into her waist band and stepping forward. "I forget you don't know how to fight with your hands," she gestures off handedly, stepping forward to nudge some foot placement around, lifting a hand and adjusting a wrist. It's more stable footing, but way more taxing to keep up with. "You also can just... do like... fuck, this is way easier to talk about than using... ah, one second, I'm going to use the headband."
She adjusts the ivory band that loops around the back of her head and gives it a moment, the crystals on the side glittering to life. "Demons bleed. But don't get too much blood on your, it can burn," she mentions to the little fey before- <Handspeech>
Her face makes a grimace, brows knitting as the crystals growing brighter before she finally gasps in relief. A well spoken voice brushes- rushes past. "What in the flying fuckity fucking bull shit ass kind of spell you got on you? I swear to fuck I started using this thing and it's like the lights went out in my skull for a brief second." <Telepathy>
It feels a bit different in Cor'lana's head compared to the last time. It's not so much that it feels like someone else is here, but that the locale has changed. It's cool, like the crisp of autumn before the first winter day--except in the form of a mental connection.
"That would probably be Grandfather's influence," Cor'lana says mentally. She's a lot more calm compared to the last time, too. "He's not listening, don't worry. I just have been given a few tricks to defend myself against other fey--gifts that came in handy the other night."
Cor'lana smiles in reality. "I'm just glad I got all of us out of there alive. That's why I insisted on going."
But there's the mental image that appears of Pothy. That brave snack-eating bird, on the shoulder of that beautiful woman that Aryia's seen before known as Cor'lana's mother.
It's unmistakable with the mental connection, the grimace could be felt. A sensation akin to stepping in a mud puddle while wearing expensive shoes. "Right... good thing you have that," Aryia murmurs mentally.
Her gaze settles on Cor'lana. Shining silver on violet. "I'm glad you went with us. If I ever have to fucking grovel like that again to some stuck up bitch because I couldn't fucking stop obsessing over what that stupid sexy cunt was wearing--Uuuuughhhhhh, I HATE that stupid bitch!"
She idly kicks the floor, then shakes her head while rubbing her face. Strong opinions on all that. "Right. Anyways. Aside from me being a useless thirsty bitch in bull shit fuck off land, let's get this sword training shit figured. Sword up."
A long pause.
"... he'll be fine. Needs to grow up. It's been long enough." <Telepathy>
Cor'lana nods in reality, a firm conviction on her face. "Yeah. I'm not a fan of her either--much as I found myself briefly wanting to be like her, that was something... deeper in my soul calling to me, not the result of magical compulsion. Which is why I was volunteering my pain. I didn't want Aya to give up anything she'd regret when she came out of the presence of that woman, especially when everyone else besides Tel and I were going nuts from being in her presence. It's not fair--but the Unseelie don't tend to play fair."
She puts her wooden sword up into the air. "Enough of her and enough of them. Let's get started."
There's a refreshing amount of resolve and focus in her thoughts. Nary a thought's been put to the subject of a shirtless Telamon. There is, however, a visual image that floats around in Cor'lana's head as she takes up the wooden sword: her, dressed in the gown she wore in front of the Queen of Air and Darkness the other night, Mortal Dread in one hand and the decapitated head of the demon in her other hand, holding it by the white scruff of hair.
Aryia gives a huff, her nodding. "And that right there is why I don't deal with shit that like that normally," she gestures with a hand instead of speaking mentally. "I just wanted to make sure my sister didn't do anything stupid. Yet we both drank the dumb bitch juice." <Handspeech>
The mute straightens her back, her raising her dowel rod.
Another mental image is shown. A grey skinned arm before her, a mul'neissa woman with violet eyes in a duelist's cloak adjusting said arm with a hand on the basket of a sheathed rapier.
"It's nice to imagine such a thing," Aryia soberly mentions. "But just make sure the passion to do what we all want like that doesn't end up with the sword killing and obliterating you."
She looks aside. "... though, it does look kick ass to think like that."
Cor'lana's mental image of herself triumphant over the demon fades. She gives Aryia a nod, appreciating the image of the duelist woman. "With your help, hopefully it doesn't," she replies.
She lunges at Aryia.
Meanwhile, Lily-of-the-Valley flaps over to join Mirabilis on the couch. She looks down at Mirabilis's tiny cup of tea with covetous eyes. "Can... Can you... Pweeeaaase, pweaaaaaase make me--"
"Of course," Mirabilis says. She flitters off to the kitchen, presumably to pour a cup of tea for her pixie-sister.
"Yes. Score. Less work for Lily!" Lily-of-the-Valley cheers once she's certain Mirabilis is out of earshot.
I'll do what I can. I haven't used a sword in a few years," Aryia mentions back. Her eyes flick down, "I just want this shit to be over with. Tired of having to look over my shoulder. Did enough of that in Charn."
She watches the approaching sorceress lunge with her wooden sword. In her mind, it morphs to that dark blade.
She frowns.
Can't go easy on her with this.
Memory of the same violet eyed mul'neissa purring in a chastising manner, "Follow through or get ran through."
The pugilist thwacks the wooden sword out of Cor'lana's hand with a brisk motion.
"Again." <Telepathy>