Rain Check

Log Info

• Title: Rain Check
• Emitter: Aelwyn
• Characters: Aelwyn, Skielstregar, Murder
• Place: The Collosseum
• Time: September 19th, 2022
• Summary: Aelwyn is busy practising his dance in the rain as Skielstregar is watching on in amusement, the chilly makari turning into a large ice cube from the weather. They speak of the personality Skiel's weapon is starting to display. That is, before a little gobbo named Murder lands on Aelwyn's back. Aelwyn tries to flatten them, but they're evasive enough to dodge it. The dancer lumbers off before Skiel and Murder go get food.

Rain. Chill. Wind. It's very bleak and raw time for someone such as Aelwyn - his ruddy scales were full bloom with the autumn colors and rain. It was as if the seasons finally found a place for the fiery Dragoon to belong.

Except he did not. A thin cloak attempted to cover him from the worst of the rain; but other than that he had lit up wrappings around his glaive on fire, smoking in the rain. With very slow and meticulous movements he trails a path in the air - moving with his spear weapon and his body in an imagined choreography against an imaginary enemy. Which in this case was the weather.

Rain, wind, and chill. A trifecta that was most find despicable. Though a certain silverscale enjoyed it immensely. Skielstregar is here! Though today he's not armored, clothings sticking to his frame and freezing, only for the ice to break off as he slowly moves. Most of his armory absent save for that gleaming halberd that seemed to always be with him.

The water has caused a light cresting of an icicle beard to dangle from his maw, him stopping a few paces away from the Dragoon. There's a rumble, and its not the thunder. Skiel chuckles, "Thisss one did wonder what you would do if it wassss pouring rain."

The fire dances around the ruddy sith-makar in circles. It was the most brightest spot; leaving much of the smaller sith-makar in its shadow. The glaive rotates - and he takes a short step forward, following the step by twisting his leg in the air and bringing it down again. The spear follows on, cutting through the air in an upward motion.

Then it stops. Glaive burning, Aelwyn raises his head and looks towards the far far larger sith-makar. "Silver," He greets, with a bow of his head. "He seems to have found his skies today." The draconian rumbles, trying to keep his hastily wrapped 'cloak' in place with one hand. "This cloth did not take to fire well and the fire does not stick to scales."

A deep breath and he exhales - wisps of white leaving from between his teeth in the cold air. "... what has Silver done with his weapons?" A teethy grin slowly appears. "Came to display the real weapon behind it all?"

Skielstregar chuffs once, shaking his head as he watches Aelwyn finish his dance. "Thisss one isss keeping them elsewhere for now while going around the city. Only Malefic sticks with them," he informs with a chuckle from the grin, the halberd's haft thudding twice in the ground. "But, yess, thisss one enjoys sssuch weather. They do not like the hot and heat."

He looks skyward, the icicle beard growing slowly before he rubs the back of his arm against it to break the shards off. "Thisss one wondersss what you will do when the snow comesss if the cloth did not work today?"

Aelwyn looks at Skielstregar's chin for a time - then he picks up one of the rags with his fingers and moves to lightly flick at the hanging icicle. On his tipclaws. "Hmm, what does Silver do when the heat and sun comes out?" The draconian asks as he leans back, twirling his tail behind him. He leans against his glaive. "This one can find a thick cloak. Can Silver find his scales?" He grins, flicking his tongue at the silvery scaled draconian.

But inevitably, those orange slit eyes find their interest returning towards the halberd. He cannot resist the urge to step a bit closer to look at it. "Malefic, now? Is this the given name?"

The icicle breaks off and twirls away, thudding into the ground before being melted away by the rain. Skiel flinches from the motion, but he just snorts and shakes his head, leaning against the halberd. "Sssuffer," he answers simply. But, then, a light laugh. "Funny," the shiny silverscale comments, holding out an arm to inspect the mirror shine, the thin layer of ice, and the scars that line them. "Thisss one thinksss you would prefer finding more of thisss one's sssscales anyways," he jokes back.

The halberd is there. The water dripping off it from the rain carries with it a tinge of inky black, the it doesn't seem like the gleam is marred by it. Skiel bobs his head. "Yesss. Thisss one feelsss it isss a right name for it. It isss named. After speaking with friend and you, they have found their weapon hasss... a bit of persssonality? It isss strange. It ssshould not, but alasss, it doess."

Aelwyn slowly wraps the burning cloth around his wrist, letting the rest of the rag slowly burn away. A source of little bit of warmth in the miserable rain. "And this one thinks it would be gentler on Silver's clothes if they were not freezing." The smaller sith-makar points out, moving to hold a bit of that freezing cloth and giving it a testing tweak. "Bad for the fabric." Toothy grin.

Stepping back away, he looks at the inky black leaking halberd. "Malefic. Gruesome name." The Dragoon leans over and glances at Skielstregar. "Quite opposite from its wielder." He leans his glaive against his chest. "Does it yet dance?"

The fabric crunches under the tweak, thin pieces of ice falling off and onto the ground. "Of courssse, yess, bad for fabric. Completely not for any other reassson why thisss one should doff cloth," Skiel rolls his eyes with a chuckle.

A sage nod from Skiel. "Yess. Gruesome. But, it meansss that it /could/ be gruesome. But yet, it ssstays itssself. Like thisss one. Not ssso opposite."

He looks confused. "... how do you mean, doess it dance?"

GAME: Murder rolls stealth: (7)+5: 12

Behind the two Sith, a wee Gobbo stalks. She generally appears to be heading in Aelwyn's direction. Decked out furs and a long cloak, she tiptoes forward on bare feet.

"It is a _very_ good reason." Aelwyn grins right back at Skielstregar, shifting his tail behind him. "And the frozen cloth is another." His eyes turn back towards halberd in thought. A personality?

Lifting his own glaive from the ground, he slowly shifts his weapon in the air, letting it roll around his arm and body in vague, circular motions. "Can it dance with this one?" He asks then, keeping the lit glaive moving in the air. "Slice and cut, but move where the momentum leads?"

GAME: Aelwyn rolls perception: (18)+1: 19

Skielstregar shakes his head once more, chuckling. "Maybe sssomeday you'll get your wishesss. But, yesss, a personality."

He watches Aelwyn, and his glaive. A glance to the halberd, him picking it up and attempting to repeat the gesture. "Well, thisss one usssesss it like that with eassse. Move where it needs to. But erm... like that?" He starts to move it in a circular manner. It spins. But after the third rotation or so, it falls out of his grasp and wedges itself into the ground haft first, the axe head reflecting back at the two of them. It shows a confused expression of Skiel.

Which, shows a gobbo stalking. He takes note of it, a glance over the shoulder, but doesn't mention anything.

GAME: Murder rolls acrobatics: (6)+14: 20

The Gobbo is either impressed or concerned about the spinning of polearms, and decides upon a forward somersault and roll. She ends up standing behind Aelwyn. Taking a moment to calculate, she attempts to jump upon his back.

Aelwyn was too focused enough on the halberd to really pay attention to what was coming. Especially when the halberd does _that_. Much to his demise.

"... hmmh, one begins to suspect that neither the glaive nor its owner has much warmth to share with this one." He grins up at Skielstregar, slowly laying his spear back against his shoulder. "Or Malefic needs more practise with its..." A tilt of his head, as he twists his lips in momentary thought. "... shaft work." Flick of forked tongue.

It is then he feels something heavy land on his back. Glancing up at Skielstregar - he then gracefully bows forward, trying to pull over whatever landed on him.

Skielstregar shrugs. "Thisss one isss not warm, save through their heart," he notes.

The comment causes the halberd to drip a steady stream of necromantic miasma before resuming its silver gleam. Skiel stare at it. "Thisss one thinksss Malefic took that asss an insssult."

He picks it back up, and lens against it.

Then there's a gobbo attack. Skielstregar blinks, then tilts his head to the side curiously. "... err... do... you need a hand?"

He attempts to lift the halberd, but it slips out of his grip and ends up leaning against his arm.

GAME: Murder rolls acrobatics: (19)+14: 33

As Aelwyn bows... somehow Murder ends up sitting cross-legged on his back. She grins toothily at the Silverscale. "Hi Skielstregar! Have you seen Aelwyn about anywhere? I swore I heard his voice a moment ago."

Aelwyn rumbles deeply - and then he keeps leaning forward, leaning his burning glaive and moving to stand on his hands. It was all an attempt to get certain goblin off his back. "There is no shame in needing practise." The Dragoon says from his more upside position now. A leg moves to counter balance towards the right. "Trust between partners is slow building."

Speaking of which - he attempts to roughly flop over to push the goblin either off or flat under his back.

GAME: Murder rolls acrobatics: (10)+14: 24

Skielstregar looks to his halberd, Malefic. He tilts his head at it, looking at himself in the gleaming reflection before he gives a sharp nod. "You are wissse about that, Aelwyn-"

And then there's a Murder. He blinks. "Oh. Hello. Erm, he isss-"

The dancer flops over on his back. He's just there, being a partial frozen ice cube from the rain. Another glance to his weapon. He shrugs, then watches the aftermath with amusement.

Murder looks momentarily panicked as the ruddy-scaled Sith begins to essentially roll from a handstand onto his back. She suddenly springs into the air, getting just enough airtime to land hands-first onto his hips. Again facing Skiel. "I just missed him, huh? Oh well. How're things with you?"

Aelwyn lets out a hiss and a grunt as his hips is landed upon. Thankfully he had enough practise with such daring movements that he knew how to take it - but then his hands move to just try and hoist Murder off him. "This rain seems to get worse." The ruddy sith-makar grumbles by himself, trying to get back onto his feet and grab his spear.

With a bow of his head and a flourish, "Peace upon their nests, Silver, Shorty." He replies, before heading off to somewhere warm.

Skielstregar blinks as Aelwyn grumbles and displaces the gobbo. "Erm, peace on your nessst, Dancer."

He watches him go for a moment overlong before his dead gaze drops down to Murder. "... odd. Thisss one figured he would be making many jokes by now. Maybe it is the rain. Thisss one isss well. Just enjoying a nice sssstroll in the cold. You?"

GAME: Murder rolls acrobatics: (15)+14: 29

The Goblin giggles lightly as Aelwyn is now frustrated enough to just haul her off. She waves to him cheerily, "See you later, Ael!" His progress is observed until he leaves, and she glances to Skielstregar.

"Yeah, something might be bugging him. Perhaps he is angry that the sun is less and less prominent. Maybe he does not know how winter works?"

She turns and does a few backflips along the ground until she is standing next to him, his larger form partially blocking the rain for her. "It is good to hear. You and Vaera still an item?" Reaching up a small fist, she knocks off an icicle hanging from his hand. "Didn't you say you liked to sleep in the snow?"

Skiel shrugs one shoulder. "Perhapsss he doesss not. Or perhapsss there wasss sssomeone clambering all over him. Who knowsss?"

He watches the backflips with a tilt of his head, him twisting slightly so he could actually see the small one near his feet. "You are very flippy today," he observes dryly before nodding with a bit of warmth in his visage. "Yesss. We are together. It issss very nice."

The icicle breaks off with ease, seems like every movement breaks off more ice, keeping anything solid from forming. "Yesss. Thisss one enjoys sssleeping in the snow greatly."

Murder sighs and pouts slightly. "He does things to tease me all the time. A shame he cannot take it when I reciprocate." She grins toothily. "It's great fun, though!"

Her hands reach out to take his, breaking and sliding the ice away. "Gosh, you are quite cold. You could have some giggles putting your ice hand down someone's shirt. Like Aelwyn's!"

Crouching, she leaps into the air, easily jumping up to face level with Skielstregar. "Yes, I used a spell that helps me jump higher."

Skielstregar snorts. "Yesss, thisss one hasss ssseen the reciprocation turn sideways before. Perhapsss it isss jussst a bad day for him."

The large hand dwarfs the gobbo's, the shiny scales frosted over from the moisture. While the gobbo finds the idea funny, Skiel shakes his head. "That ssseeems rude. What if the ice go on their ssskin and froze to them?" Of course the goodie-two shoes wouldn't find such a joke funny. "But don't let that ssstop you from taking sssome ice and doing that." Or, not.

He blinks as he's met face to face with Murder. "... oh. That isss interesssting. Thisss one doesss not know how to do that, but they know a magicssss to climb on wallsss."

A few little words of magic can be heard as she lands on the ground. Familiar words.

The next time she jumps, she ends up sticking to Skielstregar's chest, 'sitting' on her hands and feet.

"Yeah, me too!" Murder giggles brightly. "Do... do you know how to fly?", she wonders, a look of awe on her face.

Skielstregar 'acks' as Murder is stuck on his chest. "Uh... no... sssadly. That would be wonderful to know how to do... erm. Thisss one's climbing is a little... different than that, but it isss useful, no?"

He shifts a bit uncomfortably. "... pleassse get off. This one doess not like people touching their front."

GAME: Murder rolls acrobatics: (16)+14: 30

It does feel as if the center of his chest, where his heart should be, has a scarred divot. And through the wet clothes this close, one can just barely make out something nasty underneath.

With a laugh, the Gobbo does a neat backwards somersault, and lands daintily upon her feet. "Sorry! I was just goofing around and showing off." She glances at him side-eyed.

"Did you wish to fly?", she says, wiggling her fingers. "Murder knows the spell, and would love to help!"

Skiel seems to relax as there was distance put between them, him waving off the apology. "No harm done."

He tilts his head to the side, looking a bit excited about the idea, but he gives a little sigh. "Perhapsss... rain check on that?" he laughs. "Thisss one would prefer to sssee where they are going. They would enjoy that."

He picks up his gleaming halberd and takes a half step towards the exit. "Thisss one is going to go eat, do you wisssh to join?"

Her stomach growls noisily before she can respond, and she manages to look embarrassed. "Yes please.", she says softly. "Where do you have in mind?"

'And yes, as soon as we get a nice, clear day, we can go for a flight."

"To the TarRaCe we go," Skiel rumbles warmly, him holding out an elbow to offer refuge to the gobbo from the rain.

He nods warmly. "That sssounds well."

-End Scene-