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banjoanjo Member
Still likes pistachios
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Yes, hello, am interested.
Sunny scanned their new surroundings. It was no sunflower field, but it was nice enough. She looked the (apparent) NPC up and down. He seemed interesting, at least, but not comfortable with a group this big... and they were a big group. No reason for them all to crowd one NPC, right? She decided it'd be better to leave the others to bother him, so she tugged on Wendel's sleeve, giving him a grin, "Hey, wanna look around?"
Wendel stared curiously at the hand on her sleeve, her attention stolen from the incredible forest scenery. An eager nod followed, and her smile returned more easily than before.
Sunny glanced around, picking a direction to go. By the NPC's house was... a car? She hurried towards it, glancing back at Wendel, "Woah! Look at that. Is that a car?!"
That was weird. The swordsman pressed both hands against it, trying to peer in through the murkiness.
Sunny peeked in over Wendel's shoulder, laying a hand on his back as she tried to look over him. There wasn't much inside, besides what you would usually expect from a car. "Huh... that's weird, isn't it? Isn't this a fantasy game?" she asked.
"Yeah..." Wendel blinked at the sudden contact on her back but ultimately shuffled so Sunny could get a better look, "Reminds me of those post-apocalypse movies a little."
“Huh. Yeah.” Sunny said simply, backing off, “Zombie movie vibes for sure…" Sunny paused for a moment, "Maybe... wanna break in?"she said with a grin.
Huh?
"I mean...yeah, that sounds pretty video game-y." Wendel glanced nervously over her shoulder. The NPC seemed preoccupied with some others. "It's just..."
Sunny followed Wendel’s gaze. She almost forgot about the NPC… “Oh yeah… I mean… maybe we can just, like… hey, did you try opening it?”
Wendel tried the door handle. The door opened, to her thankful surprise. A quick look around provided exactly nothing.
"Not so video game-y after all," she chuckled.
Sunny laughed, “Yeah.” Sunny leaned over Wendel, peering into a car, “Well, it’s a car alright.” she observed helpfully, “No loot, though. Maybe we should check out the rest of the forest?”
Wendel made sure to shut the door properly. "Okay."
Sunny turned around, peering into the forest. It looked peaceful enough – there were the… fairy things, Sunny wasn’t sure exactly what to call them, but they didn’t look like much of a threat. There were no obvious landmarks besides the house, so she set off in the direction she was facing.
She glanced towards Wendel as she did. It was a lot more fun to walk and talk, she decided, “Hey, I told you about my job, tell me a little about yourself.”
Wendel would have preferred talking about those fairies. Were those...normal?
"I deliver pizzas. And I'm living with my sister right now, since we're probably the only people in the world who know how to put up with each other. Aaaand...my favourite movie is The Princess Bride."
“Pizza is good,” Sunny said, “So is Princess Bride. That one is def up there, but if we’re talking favorite… hmmm… you ever seen Amélie? It’s, uh, a French movie.”
"Oh yeah," the swordsman's eyes brightened, "The soundtrack was really pretty."
“Yeah. Real good. I just connect with it.” Sunny could’ve kept talking, but instead she circled back to pick up on something Wendel said earlier, “You live with your sister? That’s cool. I’m an only child, and, uh, live by myself now.”
"She's fun, yeah. So's my brother. He spends so much time around the apartment that Joy tries to make him help with the rent but it hasn't worked so far." Wendel smiled fondly.
Small talk aside, she had a feeling she knew what Sunny meant by connecting with it. Wendy didn't want to talk about that.
"I can't imagine being an only child. Getting dragged around by my siblings took up a lot of time back in the day."
“Heh… yeah.” Sunny kept smiling, “I always thought it’d be cool to have, like, a sister or something. But being an only child has its perks, I guess. Don’t have to share, even if it gets a bit lonely sometimes.”
"Did you have any pets?"
“Yeeeeah,” Sunny smiled at the memory, “I have a chubby little corgi back home, name's Tulip. And I’ve got a turtle that I took to my apartment, Buttercup."
Woah. That's...
Wendel couldn't help but laugh. "That's cute as. Did you name them yourself?"
Sunny beamed, “Yep, I did. They’re very cute. My lil’ flowers. What about you, any pets?”
"A Russian Blue called Reggie. Lucas named him."
“Ohhhh. Those look so cute!” Sunny grinned. It was almost easy to forget that she wasn’t really talking to Wendel, “You like music?”
"I guess?" Wendel frowned, "I listen to the radio when I drive. That...doesn't really count, huh?"
Sunny nodded, “Heh, I mean, as long as you enjoy listening to it. Before I picked this up music was pretty much how I used all my free time, so… not exactly the same.”she said with a small laugh.
"You must be a pro if you've been playing since forever."
“H-heh, I’m alright, I think.” Sunny blushed a little, glancing away, “I mean, I’m far from a pro. Maybe someday, but…” she trailed off vaguely, not finishing whatever thought she was trying to from.
Wendel looked back at her companion, waiting for the sentence to finish.
Sunny’s pause continued for a moment longer until she realized Wendel was waiting for her to finish. What was she trying to say again? “Well, I haven’t had as much time to play since I moved… and it’s a little weird to play without the band, y’know?” Sunny said with a small chuckle.
"Wow," the swordsman was genuinely impressed. "A whole band?"
“Not anymore.” Sunny said with a sigh. For a moment her smile disappeared, but she recomposed herself, “Going solo isn’t as cool as the greats make it look. It was fun playing with them, even if they were goofballs, y'know?”
Wendel caught that. Probably best not to mention what she left behind.
"...Can I listen to your stuff sometime?"
Sunny let out a slightly nervous chuckle, “Uh, if you want, sure!” She agreed happily, “I mean, meter your expectations. W-we’re not that great, probably. We were kind of, uh, locally popular, but it wasn’t a big town.”
She paused for a moment, suddenly looking down before laughing a little, “I guess I’ve gotta warn you first, I didn’t pick the name. We voted.” she was about to speak, but cut herself off, “I feel dumb just saying it.”
"Aw, it can't be that bad."
Sunny gritted her teeth. It took her a few more moments of thinking to work up the courage, but eventually the dreaded words came, “Dandelion Blowjob.” she admitted in a near whisper.
Wendel stopped in her tracks. Froze. Apart from the myriad of emotions flashing across her panicked face, she was completely still. What...how was she supposed to respond to that?!
Sunny stopped too, giving Wendel a barely restrained smile, “Yeah. Yeah. It’s that bad. Imagine getting up in front of a crowd and saying ‘Dandelion Blowjob’... and also your mom is in that crowd because she really wanted to support your passion.” she sighed, “Like 75% of the reason they picked that name was to embarrass me.”
A muted nod in response. "I, uh...yeah, I can imagine."
Some silence passed. The Joy in her head berated her for not continuing.
Reuse the last topic, dummy!
"So is the dandelion the one giving the b-blowjob or..."
Sunny blushed, running a hand through her hair, “N-no, please, the blowjob is when you blow on the dandelion. Like for luck. Not… an actual…”
Another silence as Wendel looked around the forest, contemplating which tree she was going to use to bash her fucking head in with. Hah. It had been a fine while since she'd felt this level of raw embarrassment. A nauseous grimace surfaced, the product of the conflicting desires to scream in horror and/or crawl in a hole to die.
What a shame, too. Sunny seemed like a really nice person. Now Wendy could never show her face again. She pointed vaguely back to the portal.
"H-hey, I think...fairies...doing a thing..." And without another word, she dashed back the way they came, sprinting at full speed.
Sunny watched as Wendel ran away. That was… really, really embarrassing. Why did she decide to bring up ‘Dandelion Blowjob’ with someone she just met? She paused, but ultimately jogged after the fleeing Wendel.
Not far ahead Wendel caught sight of a small group of fairies in her path; they had been playing much as children would, but Wendel’s quick approach drew their attention. Now they turned, a distinctly displeased look on their collective faces. The swordsman halted immediately.
"Oh. Uh..." She took a step back, hand wavering uncertainly by her weapon.
Now that Wendel stopped it was easier to pick out the details of the situation. There were five fairies, and they had been lazily meandering towards the house the group had first appeared at. They eyed Wendel cautiously, whispering amongst themselves for a moment.
It seemed that they came to a conclusion quickly. The three closest to Wendel flew towards her, charging. The two in the rear raised their hands, faces flushed with concentration, spheres of green energy beginning to materialize in front of them.
Ah.
With a precise movement, the sword was whipped out, its tip charging with blue energy and pointing right at the two in the back. Energy pooled in the balls of her feet, the tension in her legs, and she dashed forward right through the pack with a measured exhale. As the fairies got locked in the dumbfounded gape of the 'stun' animation, Wendel slashed at the two mage enemies.
The fairies had no response to Wendel’s sword, her strike flying clean through. In spite of the attack’s success the pair of fairies merely fell to the ground, seemingly stunned rather than killed, remaining in once piece.
Meanwhile, an arrow landed inches in front of the stunned group of fairies, Sunny suddenly appearing right on top of it. Wispy blackness surrounded her as she seemingly phased into existence, quickly dissipating into the air. As soon as she appeared she nocked an arrow and launched it at the fairy directly in front of her, leaping back evasively as she did. Similarly, it fell to the ground, unconscious but not dead.
Wendel watched with dread as her partner materialised. Oh, right. She was fast too.
Any finesse the swordsman possessed earlier began leaking from her posture as she took another step back. Pulling out her shield, she gazed warily at the scene.
Sunny barely registered the wide-eyed Wendel; the glazed over look of the fairies had disappeared, replaced with anger. A spear made from rock appeared in the hand of one, which it quickly tossed at Sunny. The archer was too slow to dodge, catching the spear with her shoulder, knocking her off balance. She moved to pull out another arrow, but was too slow, the other fairy summoning its own spear. It lobbed it at Sunny, catching her in the knee and sending her tumbling to the ground.
The effect on her health was marginal. The fairies were trash mobs – not a significant threat to Sunny and Wendel. The danger now was follow-up, the pair summoning another volley of spears. Sunny was scrambling to recompose herself, but knew that she would be seconds too slow.
A stab of guilt rang through Wendel. Though the damage being taken was negligible, the swordsman didn't notice at all. All she knew was that this was her fault and she needed to fix it. Fast, really fast.
Panic and haste didn't make for smart decisions. Taking cue from the very enemies they were against, Wendel flung her sword at the closest one before shouting a determined "H-Hey!" to get their attention.
Unfortunately, swords were not made to be throwing weapons. It was easy for the fairy to dodge the clumsily flung weapon, the sword landing uselessly in the dirt. Fortunately, Wendel did prove enough of a distraction to draw the fairies’ attention away from Sunny.
She used the moment Wendel gave her to pluck an arrow from her quiver, landing a shot on one of the distracted fairies. With the speed of her shortbow she was able to let loose another arrow at the fairy’s partner.
Sunny’s aim proved true, both of them falling to the ground unconscious. Sunny pulled herself all the way up, giving Wendel a smile, “Hey, nice distraction!” she called, evidently unaware of Wendel’s perceived wrongdoing.
A stiff nod. "...Thank you."
It was probably a bad idea to try fleeing agan. Luckily the small battle seemed to have eased Wendel's nerves. She remained where she stood, looking over the unconscious fairies. Were the death mechanics different in this new area?
Sunny carefully stepped towards Wendel, glancing at the fairies as she did. Not dead, unlike in the regular campaign… interesting, but she wasn’t exactly sure what to make of that. Sunny gave an exaggerated pout, “Hey, you really shouldn’t ditch me like that! We’re a team.” she gave him a light punch on the shoulder, “Good work though.” she added, reverting to her usual smile.
"Sorry. ...Thank you."
It appeared that Sunny was willing to overlook the swordsman's earlier embarrassment. Thank god. Wendel turned away. "I need to get my sword."
Sunny nodded, “Yeah, of course.” she glanced back in the direction of the house, “You think the others are doing alright?”
Wendel brushed the dirt off her weapon. "That NPC seemed friendly enough. Do you think we should go back?"
Sunny shrugged, “I mean, hanging out with you is more fun than with the others. But…” she paused for a moment, thinking, “Well, you’re right about the NPC being friendly. They probably won’t be missing us if we stay out here, right?”
"I..."
And with that first statement, Wendel completely short-circuited. She was...fun? Even after she tried to run away from them, someone liked hanging out with her? A pleasant, bubbly happiness rose in her chest and Wendel's thoughts raced too much for her to repress the small smile building on her face.
"Y-yeah. There are so many of them back there and...I mean, might as well see what we can find without the others. It's a whole new area."
Sunny grinned, “Yeah! Maybe we’ll find something cool before anyone else does. That’d be neat, right?” Sunny looked up in thought, “We could totally, like, put our names on it or something. Be semi-famous.”
"Famous doesn't sound bad," the swordsman chuckled, "Lead the way, Sunny."
“Alright…” Sunny looked around. Which way should they go? She shut her eyes, spinning around on her heel with a finger outstretched before suddenly stopping at random. “We’ll go this way!” she decided, marching decidedly towards her new destination. With one more laugh, Wendel followed eagerly after.
Wendel stared curiously at the hand on her sleeve, her attention stolen from the incredible forest scenery. An eager nod followed, and her smile returned more easily than before.
Sunny glanced around, picking a direction to go. By the NPC's house was... a car? She hurried towards it, glancing back at Wendel, "Woah! Look at that. Is that a car?!"
That was weird. The swordsman pressed both hands against it, trying to peer in through the murkiness.
Sunny peeked in over Wendel's shoulder, laying a hand on his back as she tried to look over him. There wasn't much inside, besides what you would usually expect from a car. "Huh... that's weird, isn't it? Isn't this a fantasy game?" she asked.
"Yeah..." Wendel blinked at the sudden contact on her back but ultimately shuffled so Sunny could get a better look, "Reminds me of those post-apocalypse movies a little."
“Huh. Yeah.” Sunny said simply, backing off, “Zombie movie vibes for sure…" Sunny paused for a moment, "Maybe... wanna break in?"she said with a grin.
Huh?
"I mean...yeah, that sounds pretty video game-y." Wendel glanced nervously over her shoulder. The NPC seemed preoccupied with some others. "It's just..."
Sunny followed Wendel’s gaze. She almost forgot about the NPC… “Oh yeah… I mean… maybe we can just, like… hey, did you try opening it?”
Wendel tried the door handle. The door opened, to her thankful surprise. A quick look around provided exactly nothing.
"Not so video game-y after all," she chuckled.
Sunny laughed, “Yeah.” Sunny leaned over Wendel, peering into a car, “Well, it’s a car alright.” she observed helpfully, “No loot, though. Maybe we should check out the rest of the forest?”
Wendel made sure to shut the door properly. "Okay."
Sunny turned around, peering into the forest. It looked peaceful enough – there were the… fairy things, Sunny wasn’t sure exactly what to call them, but they didn’t look like much of a threat. There were no obvious landmarks besides the house, so she set off in the direction she was facing.
She glanced towards Wendel as she did. It was a lot more fun to walk and talk, she decided, “Hey, I told you about my job, tell me a little about yourself.”
Wendel would have preferred talking about those fairies. Were those...normal?
"I deliver pizzas. And I'm living with my sister right now, since we're probably the only people in the world who know how to put up with each other. Aaaand...my favourite movie is The Princess Bride."
“Pizza is good,” Sunny said, “So is Princess Bride. That one is def up there, but if we’re talking favorite… hmmm… you ever seen Amélie? It’s, uh, a French movie.”
"Oh yeah," the swordsman's eyes brightened, "The soundtrack was really pretty."
“Yeah. Real good. I just connect with it.” Sunny could’ve kept talking, but instead she circled back to pick up on something Wendel said earlier, “You live with your sister? That’s cool. I’m an only child, and, uh, live by myself now.”
"She's fun, yeah. So's my brother. He spends so much time around the apartment that Joy tries to make him help with the rent but it hasn't worked so far." Wendel smiled fondly.
Small talk aside, she had a feeling she knew what Sunny meant by connecting with it. Wendy didn't want to talk about that.
"I can't imagine being an only child. Getting dragged around by my siblings took up a lot of time back in the day."
“Heh… yeah.” Sunny kept smiling, “I always thought it’d be cool to have, like, a sister or something. But being an only child has its perks, I guess. Don’t have to share, even if it gets a bit lonely sometimes.”
"Did you have any pets?"
“Yeeeeah,” Sunny smiled at the memory, “I have a chubby little corgi back home, name's Tulip. And I’ve got a turtle that I took to my apartment, Buttercup."
Woah. That's...
Wendel couldn't help but laugh. "That's cute as. Did you name them yourself?"
Sunny beamed, “Yep, I did. They’re very cute. My lil’ flowers. What about you, any pets?”
"A Russian Blue called Reggie. Lucas named him."
“Ohhhh. Those look so cute!” Sunny grinned. It was almost easy to forget that she wasn’t really talking to Wendel, “You like music?”
"I guess?" Wendel frowned, "I listen to the radio when I drive. That...doesn't really count, huh?"
Sunny nodded, “Heh, I mean, as long as you enjoy listening to it. Before I picked this up music was pretty much how I used all my free time, so… not exactly the same.”she said with a small laugh.
"You must be a pro if you've been playing since forever."
“H-heh, I’m alright, I think.” Sunny blushed a little, glancing away, “I mean, I’m far from a pro. Maybe someday, but…” she trailed off vaguely, not finishing whatever thought she was trying to from.
Wendel looked back at her companion, waiting for the sentence to finish.
Sunny’s pause continued for a moment longer until she realized Wendel was waiting for her to finish. What was she trying to say again? “Well, I haven’t had as much time to play since I moved… and it’s a little weird to play without the band, y’know?” Sunny said with a small chuckle.
"Wow," the swordsman was genuinely impressed. "A whole band?"
“Not anymore.” Sunny said with a sigh. For a moment her smile disappeared, but she recomposed herself, “Going solo isn’t as cool as the greats make it look. It was fun playing with them, even if they were goofballs, y'know?”
Wendel caught that. Probably best not to mention what she left behind.
"...Can I listen to your stuff sometime?"
Sunny let out a slightly nervous chuckle, “Uh, if you want, sure!” She agreed happily, “I mean, meter your expectations. W-we’re not that great, probably. We were kind of, uh, locally popular, but it wasn’t a big town.”
She paused for a moment, suddenly looking down before laughing a little, “I guess I’ve gotta warn you first, I didn’t pick the name. We voted.” she was about to speak, but cut herself off, “I feel dumb just saying it.”
"Aw, it can't be that bad."
Sunny gritted her teeth. It took her a few more moments of thinking to work up the courage, but eventually the dreaded words came, “Dandelion Blowjob.” she admitted in a near whisper.
Wendel stopped in her tracks. Froze. Apart from the myriad of emotions flashing across her panicked face, she was completely still. What...how was she supposed to respond to that?!
Sunny stopped too, giving Wendel a barely restrained smile, “Yeah. Yeah. It’s that bad. Imagine getting up in front of a crowd and saying ‘Dandelion Blowjob’... and also your mom is in that crowd because she really wanted to support your passion.” she sighed, “Like 75% of the reason they picked that name was to embarrass me.”
A muted nod in response. "I, uh...yeah, I can imagine."
Some silence passed. The Joy in her head berated her for not continuing.
Reuse the last topic, dummy!
"So is the dandelion the one giving the b-blowjob or..."
Sunny blushed, running a hand through her hair, “N-no, please, the blowjob is when you blow on the dandelion. Like for luck. Not… an actual…”
Another silence as Wendel looked around the forest, contemplating which tree she was going to use to bash her fucking head in with. Hah. It had been a fine while since she'd felt this level of raw embarrassment. A nauseous grimace surfaced, the product of the conflicting desires to scream in horror and/or crawl in a hole to die.
What a shame, too. Sunny seemed like a really nice person. Now Wendy could never show her face again. She pointed vaguely back to the portal.
"H-hey, I think...fairies...doing a thing..." And without another word, she dashed back the way they came, sprinting at full speed.
Sunny watched as Wendel ran away. That was… really, really embarrassing. Why did she decide to bring up ‘Dandelion Blowjob’ with someone she just met? She paused, but ultimately jogged after the fleeing Wendel.
Not far ahead Wendel caught sight of a small group of fairies in her path; they had been playing much as children would, but Wendel’s quick approach drew their attention. Now they turned, a distinctly displeased look on their collective faces. The swordsman halted immediately.
"Oh. Uh..." She took a step back, hand wavering uncertainly by her weapon.
Now that Wendel stopped it was easier to pick out the details of the situation. There were five fairies, and they had been lazily meandering towards the house the group had first appeared at. They eyed Wendel cautiously, whispering amongst themselves for a moment.
It seemed that they came to a conclusion quickly. The three closest to Wendel flew towards her, charging. The two in the rear raised their hands, faces flushed with concentration, spheres of green energy beginning to materialize in front of them.
Ah.
With a precise movement, the sword was whipped out, its tip charging with blue energy and pointing right at the two in the back. Energy pooled in the balls of her feet, the tension in her legs, and she dashed forward right through the pack with a measured exhale. As the fairies got locked in the dumbfounded gape of the 'stun' animation, Wendel slashed at the two mage enemies.
The fairies had no response to Wendel’s sword, her strike flying clean through. In spite of the attack’s success the pair of fairies merely fell to the ground, seemingly stunned rather than killed, remaining in once piece.
Meanwhile, an arrow landed inches in front of the stunned group of fairies, Sunny suddenly appearing right on top of it. Wispy blackness surrounded her as she seemingly phased into existence, quickly dissipating into the air. As soon as she appeared she nocked an arrow and launched it at the fairy directly in front of her, leaping back evasively as she did. Similarly, it fell to the ground, unconscious but not dead.
Wendel watched with dread as her partner materialised. Oh, right. She was fast too.
Any finesse the swordsman possessed earlier began leaking from her posture as she took another step back. Pulling out her shield, she gazed warily at the scene.
Sunny barely registered the wide-eyed Wendel; the glazed over look of the fairies had disappeared, replaced with anger. A spear made from rock appeared in the hand of one, which it quickly tossed at Sunny. The archer was too slow to dodge, catching the spear with her shoulder, knocking her off balance. She moved to pull out another arrow, but was too slow, the other fairy summoning its own spear. It lobbed it at Sunny, catching her in the knee and sending her tumbling to the ground.
The effect on her health was marginal. The fairies were trash mobs – not a significant threat to Sunny and Wendel. The danger now was follow-up, the pair summoning another volley of spears. Sunny was scrambling to recompose herself, but knew that she would be seconds too slow.
A stab of guilt rang through Wendel. Though the damage being taken was negligible, the swordsman didn't notice at all. All she knew was that this was her fault and she needed to fix it. Fast, really fast.
Panic and haste didn't make for smart decisions. Taking cue from the very enemies they were against, Wendel flung her sword at the closest one before shouting a determined "H-Hey!" to get their attention.
Unfortunately, swords were not made to be throwing weapons. It was easy for the fairy to dodge the clumsily flung weapon, the sword landing uselessly in the dirt. Fortunately, Wendel did prove enough of a distraction to draw the fairies’ attention away from Sunny.
She used the moment Wendel gave her to pluck an arrow from her quiver, landing a shot on one of the distracted fairies. With the speed of her shortbow she was able to let loose another arrow at the fairy’s partner.
Sunny’s aim proved true, both of them falling to the ground unconscious. Sunny pulled herself all the way up, giving Wendel a smile, “Hey, nice distraction!” she called, evidently unaware of Wendel’s perceived wrongdoing.
A stiff nod. "...Thank you."
It was probably a bad idea to try fleeing agan. Luckily the small battle seemed to have eased Wendel's nerves. She remained where she stood, looking over the unconscious fairies. Were the death mechanics different in this new area?
Sunny carefully stepped towards Wendel, glancing at the fairies as she did. Not dead, unlike in the regular campaign… interesting, but she wasn’t exactly sure what to make of that. Sunny gave an exaggerated pout, “Hey, you really shouldn’t ditch me like that! We’re a team.” she gave him a light punch on the shoulder, “Good work though.” she added, reverting to her usual smile.
"Sorry. ...Thank you."
It appeared that Sunny was willing to overlook the swordsman's earlier embarrassment. Thank god. Wendel turned away. "I need to get my sword."
Sunny nodded, “Yeah, of course.” she glanced back in the direction of the house, “You think the others are doing alright?”
Wendel brushed the dirt off her weapon. "That NPC seemed friendly enough. Do you think we should go back?"
Sunny shrugged, “I mean, hanging out with you is more fun than with the others. But…” she paused for a moment, thinking, “Well, you’re right about the NPC being friendly. They probably won’t be missing us if we stay out here, right?”
"I..."
And with that first statement, Wendel completely short-circuited. She was...fun? Even after she tried to run away from them, someone liked hanging out with her? A pleasant, bubbly happiness rose in her chest and Wendel's thoughts raced too much for her to repress the small smile building on her face.
"Y-yeah. There are so many of them back there and...I mean, might as well see what we can find without the others. It's a whole new area."
Sunny grinned, “Yeah! Maybe we’ll find something cool before anyone else does. That’d be neat, right?” Sunny looked up in thought, “We could totally, like, put our names on it or something. Be semi-famous.”
"Famous doesn't sound bad," the swordsman chuckled, "Lead the way, Sunny."
“Alright…” Sunny looked around. Which way should they go? She shut her eyes, spinning around on her heel with a finger outstretched before suddenly stopping at random. “We’ll go this way!” she decided, marching decidedly towards her new destination. With one more laugh, Wendel followed eagerly after.
"--and she doesn't even know Kevin so it's like what, Jess' boytoy gets an invite but I don't? Like, if the bitch has so much beef with me then she should just fucking say it."
Wendy fiddled with the straps of her headset, listening attentively with legs half-crossed over the couch. This happened a lot. Joy continued fussing by the hallway mirror.
"She totally could have privated her snaps too. She's provoking me, I know it." The statement was punctuated by the closing snap of her handbag.
Wendy tried the headset on. Hm, still too loose. There was a joke about Lucas and his big head somewhere in there but...
Joy frowned. "You're playing again?"
"Uh...yes." Wendy removed the device. Because eye contact. "Just a little, though. Doesn't this mean you don't have to play nice with her anymore?"
"She's still in 'the group', hellbent on stealing everyone I fucking breathe at. God, she's gonna be there tonight too."
"Yeah, but..."
Wouldn't it be a relief, not having to force herself anymore? It wasn't an option, apparently, but it didn't sound too unreasonable for Wendy. She stared down at the straps of the VR device, unable to come up with anything. Joy didn't waver a bit.
"I'll probably be at Steph's so you shouldn't wait for me. Casserole's in the fridge."
Only a nod in response, and a slightly frustrated huff. Joy observed with a small chuckle.
"Lucas' head?"
"...Yes."
"Spent so much time with the thing that it stretched out. Don't end up like him, yeah? There are enough weirdos on the internet."
Wendy twitched. It wasn't like she'd been planning to tell Joy about it, but having the option suddenly erased like that was jarring. Sure, it had only been one day. That Sunny girl had been so friendly though. She totally counted as new friend, right? It was only sensible to tell Joy about the people she met. Even if it had only been one party session. And the fact that she only knew Sunny's screen name. And the fact that she had no idea how old Sunny was. Or if she was actually a he. Or if she had a criminal record. Or if Sunny actually planned on meeting again or if she was just being polite...
By the time Wendy came to anything resembling a decision, the door had already slammed shut behind her. Seconds passed in silence before Wendy sighed, waved a customary goodbye at the apartment entrance and logged into World's End Online.
By now, Sunny had been playing long enough that she would probably be embarrassed if someone asked. God, it’d been… hours? She wouldn’t really consider herself a gamer by any stretch of the term, but the idea of VR was always kind of tantalizing, and now that she had moved away she didn’t have to worry about her parents scolding her. She could practically hear their nagging already, even if they weren’t there.
Maybe they were right too – the game was addicting as hell. But it wasn’t exactly like she had much else to do. She’d been uncharacteristically reclusive since she’d moved. Maybe she was just enjoying her new found personal freedom, or maybe there was something different and intimidating about city people, or maybe she just needed to mellow out for a bit. Either way, the game was a good way to pass the time, especially with the welcome distraction of other people. People like Wendel – her parents put her under the impression that strangers on the internet were scary, but that wasn’t the case.
Or maybe it just looked that way, all she knew was that Wendel seemed pretty alright.
Sunny had been sitting in a virtual tavern drinking a virtual beer as she was contemplating this, something that had seemed way too surreal for someone like her. She was knocked out of her train of thought by a sudden vibration from her pocket. She pulled out the pocketbook that the game used as a friends list, flipping it open.
Wendel was online! She was a little excited, but quickly stymied the feeling. It was a little embarrassing, after all, Wendel was just someone she met online. But still, she tugged on the page, expanding it and pulling out a pen to write. She quickly scribbled, her handwriting as sloppy as ever.
'Wendel' jumped with the vibration. The sensation of occupying a new body was strange enough without the sudden notification. However, she couldn't help but feel a bit of relief when she saw who kept yesterday's word.
It's going good-- Exclamation mark? No, full stop. No, what was this, a dissertation?
Jesus Christ.
Wendel let her face flop into her open palm with a groan.
Sunny did a bit of a double take at the message. Did this guy read her mind? If Wendel fumbled his message, Sunny was too busy thinking about the embarrassing amount of time she’d spent on here to notice it.
Uhhh, a couple hours.
She quickly scratched it out. No, no, she didn’t want to sound like a loser.
She underlined for appropriate emphasis. Because she was, as always, doing fantastic.
Wendel grinned at the underlining. Yep, that matched up with the Sunny from yesterday.
A noticeable silence.
Sunny took a long sip of her beer, finishing it in record time. She stood up, collecting her (few) possessions, slinging a mostly empty backpack over her shoulders and repositioning the book and pen in her hands so she could write while walking.
Her handwriting turned notably sloppier, unsurprising as she no longer had a table to write on. She also already regretted using the emoticon. Who writes emoticons?
The scarred swordsman cocked her head to the side as she read. Bored? In a video game?
...Eh, it didn't seem polite to question it too much.
She hurried to the waystone with an eager smile, almost missing the peculiar blank slot in the locations list. A pause, her finger hovering over the oddity before selecting her initial intended location. Probably just a glitch she'd report later. It didn't seem polite to keep someone waiting, especially when she was the one that proposed moving.
Wendel's head started bobbing around, searching as soon as she rematerialised on the other side. She did her best to not let the crowd unnerve her.
Sunny smiled a little bit at the thumbs up. She wrote her own back, but it was almost illegible. She wasn't much of an artist, unfortunately. With that she snapped the book shut, returning it to her pocket, and headed towards the waystone. She was already in Prontera, she was just looking for Wendel. He didn't take long to find, even as a new player his appearance was pretty distinctive - tall, with all those scars on his neck. It was a little weird looking but Sunny didn't mind. Instead, she hurried towards him, giving him a short wave as she made her way past the crowd around the waystone.
"Hey!" she called out as she made her approach, "Nice to see you!" she said with a grin.
Wendel nodded quickly, waving back.
"You're--yes, it's nice too," she managed, her hand still swaying in the air for some reason. Was the swordsman going for a hi-five or...?
Sunny kept on grinning, eagerly giving Wendel a high five. “So, what’re we gonna do?”
Oh. Right. Hi-five was definitely what she was going for there.
Wendel quickly whipped her hand to behind her back. "Uh, there's that quest line I've been putting off. Not sure if you've already done it but..."
Hm. Actually.
"Hey, did you see something weird on they waystone list earlier?"
“Huh…?” Sunny gave an exaggerated look of thought for a moment, bringing her hand up to her chin and looking down. Actually, she did see something weird… “Yeah. There was like, a spot where nothing was there. Is that what you’re talking about?”
Another nod. "Might have to file a report before we leave." Wendel was already pulling out one of her books.
Sunny raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t we see where it goes? Maybe we’ll find, like… I dunno, some neat glitch. Or maybe our games will just crash.”
Or they got stuck in some blank white space, forever falling with no one to ever find them until their bodies finally broke down beyond human recognition...
Yeah, Wendel wasn't going to voice that thought like a weirdo any time soon.
"Glitch sounds good," she squeaked, "Lead the way?"
“Yep!” Sunny chirpped eagerly, popping open her book and quickly placing her and Wendel in a party. “Hopefully it doesn’t mess us up too hard." She opened the locations list on the waystone, picking the peculiar blank spot and confirming it as their teleport location.
And suddenly they were in front of the gate with the others. She took in the location before giving a glance to Wendel, “Woah. Where the heck are we now? You seen anything like this?”
The swordsman glanced around. "Sort of. In an ani--" Noooo. "Uh, in a cartoon a few times. I think."
Sunny gave him a wry smile. "In a what now?" she said teasingly, giving him a slight nudge with her elbow.
"Ani-animation. You know."
Sunny narrowed her eyes. She hadn’t watched a lot of anime and didn’t have much of an opinion on it, but this was funny. “Oh yeah? Anime-tion? Huh, what sort of cartoons do you see all this Japanese stuff in…?"
Wendel squirmed, made a series of helpless muttering noises before gesturing to the NPC and the scrolls in front of them. "H-hey, what's up with this contract stuff? Wouldn't they have sent a notice if new DLC was out?"
Sunny shrugged. “Maybe they wanted to do something different? Some kind of hidden event for new content?” she hit the accept button without hesitation, taking barely a second to read the EULA, “Seems interesting though, doesn’t it?”
The swordsman watched with dread as Sunny accepted the scroll with barely a glance. Great, now she was going to look like an idiot if she took the time to read it. Normally, Wendy never even used wi-fi hotspots without at least skimming the Terms and Conditions.
"Yes, it doesn't really seem like a World's End aesthetic," she said as she skim-scrolled through the EULA, trying (and most likely failing) to look as nonchalant as one could, "It might be another crossover event. Or something?"
“Yeah. They had a tie-in anime, right?” Sunny said with a half-smirk, trying to suppress a chuckle.
Wendel tapped the 'Accept' button with a deep grimace.
"L-looks like we just wait here," she blatantly ignored that last comment.
”Guess so.” Sunny said, stretching her arms upward and yawning, ”So… like… what do ya do besides video games?” Sunny said with a smile, trying her best to start up a conversation so they didn’t just stand there like dopes.
Ah, yes. Small talk. Wendel mentally ran through the tips Joy had given her as she spoke.
"Not much." No, wait, she wasn't supposed to do that. "There's a nice reserve nearby. I go through--jog. I jog around it. And through it. Uh, besides video games? I watch movies with my brother sometimes. And friends." Because she was a normal person that talked to people outside her immediate family, yes.
That went about as well as it could have. "Uh, you?"
"Oh, around it and through it." Sunny teased lightly with a grin, "I, uh, play guitar. And sing. And write songs, I guess, but I've been uh... I guess I've been kinda busy and haven't been doing that so much lately. Work and stuff." Sunny said with a shrug, "I knit, I guess" she added on nonchalantly.
"Oh, that's nice."
And it was. Sunny seemed like an interesting person, way more than Wendy. Wendel (unwisely and to Joy's instinctual frustration somewhere in the city) decided to leave it at that.
Sunny smiled. For a moment she waited for Wendel to continue, and then realized that he wasn’t going to. That didn’t deter her, however, “I work as a barista. At one of those hipster coffee places, so I guess that’s a hobby too. There’s a lot that goes into that stuff… y’know, like, grind size, uh, roast, they’re even kind of particular about the kind of water we use.” she said with a small laugh.
Wendel blinked. Shit, yeah, she was meant to grab onto those conversation threads. A tinge of relief filled her when she realised what Sunny did. "Huh. I guess tap water's not an option?"
“Heh. No, certainly not. They have us, like, filter it and then add this chemical solution to it. They’ve got a recipe for water, believe it or not. Guess that why it’s four bucks a cup…” Sunny laughed again, running an idle hand through her hair.
"I hope your cafe's not situated anywhere near a drinking fountain then," Wendel allowed herself a chuckle too.
“No, it’s not. Good thing too!” Sunny said, laughing a little harder. There was a slight pause, “Man, I wish this show got on the road already! I’m interested in seeing what’s behind that big gate.”
"Yeah," Wendel glanced at the gate, "I have a feeling it's going to be something nice."
Sunny nodded before continuing to chatter away about her job, because Wendel seemed interested in that.
Wendy fiddled with the straps of her headset, listening attentively with legs half-crossed over the couch. This happened a lot. Joy continued fussing by the hallway mirror.
"She totally could have privated her snaps too. She's provoking me, I know it." The statement was punctuated by the closing snap of her handbag.
Wendy tried the headset on. Hm, still too loose. There was a joke about Lucas and his big head somewhere in there but...
Joy frowned. "You're playing again?"
"Uh...yes." Wendy removed the device. Because eye contact. "Just a little, though. Doesn't this mean you don't have to play nice with her anymore?"
"She's still in 'the group', hellbent on stealing everyone I fucking breathe at. God, she's gonna be there tonight too."
"Yeah, but..."
Wouldn't it be a relief, not having to force herself anymore? It wasn't an option, apparently, but it didn't sound too unreasonable for Wendy. She stared down at the straps of the VR device, unable to come up with anything. Joy didn't waver a bit.
"I'll probably be at Steph's so you shouldn't wait for me. Casserole's in the fridge."
Only a nod in response, and a slightly frustrated huff. Joy observed with a small chuckle.
"Lucas' head?"
"...Yes."
"Spent so much time with the thing that it stretched out. Don't end up like him, yeah? There are enough weirdos on the internet."
Wendy twitched. It wasn't like she'd been planning to tell Joy about it, but having the option suddenly erased like that was jarring. Sure, it had only been one day. That Sunny girl had been so friendly though. She totally counted as new friend, right? It was only sensible to tell Joy about the people she met. Even if it had only been one party session. And the fact that she only knew Sunny's screen name. And the fact that she had no idea how old Sunny was. Or if she was actually a he. Or if she had a criminal record. Or if Sunny actually planned on meeting again or if she was just being polite...
By the time Wendy came to anything resembling a decision, the door had already slammed shut behind her. Seconds passed in silence before Wendy sighed, waved a customary goodbye at the apartment entrance and logged into World's End Online.
By now, Sunny had been playing long enough that she would probably be embarrassed if someone asked. God, it’d been… hours? She wouldn’t really consider herself a gamer by any stretch of the term, but the idea of VR was always kind of tantalizing, and now that she had moved away she didn’t have to worry about her parents scolding her. She could practically hear their nagging already, even if they weren’t there.
Maybe they were right too – the game was addicting as hell. But it wasn’t exactly like she had much else to do. She’d been uncharacteristically reclusive since she’d moved. Maybe she was just enjoying her new found personal freedom, or maybe there was something different and intimidating about city people, or maybe she just needed to mellow out for a bit. Either way, the game was a good way to pass the time, especially with the welcome distraction of other people. People like Wendel – her parents put her under the impression that strangers on the internet were scary, but that wasn’t the case.
Or maybe it just looked that way, all she knew was that Wendel seemed pretty alright.
Sunny had been sitting in a virtual tavern drinking a virtual beer as she was contemplating this, something that had seemed way too surreal for someone like her. She was knocked out of her train of thought by a sudden vibration from her pocket. She pulled out the pocketbook that the game used as a friends list, flipping it open.
Wendel was online! She was a little excited, but quickly stymied the feeling. It was a little embarrassing, after all, Wendel was just someone she met online. But still, she tugged on the page, expanding it and pulling out a pen to write. She quickly scribbled, her handwriting as sloppy as ever.
Heeeeey! How’s it going?
'Wendel' jumped with the vibration. The sensation of occupying a new body was strange enough without the sudden notification. However, she couldn't help but feel a bit of relief when she saw who kept yesterday's word.
It's going good-- Exclamation mark? No, full stop. No, what was this, a dissertation?
It's going good
!
Jesus Christ.
Have you been on long?
Also how are you?
Wendel let her face flop into her open palm with a groan.
Sunny did a bit of a double take at the message. Did this guy read her mind? If Wendel fumbled his message, Sunny was too busy thinking about the embarrassing amount of time she’d spent on here to notice it.
Uhhh, a couple hours.
She quickly scratched it out. No, no, she didn’t want to sound like a loser.
No, not really.
And fantastic!
She underlined for appropriate emphasis. Because she was, as always, doing fantastic.
Wendel grinned at the underlining. Yep, that matched up with the Sunny from yesterday.
That's good
to hear.
A noticeable silence.
Do you feel like meeting?
Sunny took a long sip of her beer, finishing it in record time. She stood up, collecting her (few) possessions, slinging a mostly empty backpack over her shoulders and repositioning the book and pen in her hands so she could write while walking.
Yes please! I’ve been boooooored. :P
Her handwriting turned notably sloppier, unsurprising as she no longer had a table to write on. She also already regretted using the emoticon. Who writes emoticons?
The scarred swordsman cocked her head to the side as she read. Bored? In a video game?
...Eh, it didn't seem polite to question it too much.
Okay
!
A rudimentary scribble of a thumbs up gesture followed.
Let's meet at Prontera.
She hurried to the waystone with an eager smile, almost missing the peculiar blank slot in the locations list. A pause, her finger hovering over the oddity before selecting her initial intended location. Probably just a glitch she'd report later. It didn't seem polite to keep someone waiting, especially when she was the one that proposed moving.
Wendel's head started bobbing around, searching as soon as she rematerialised on the other side. She did her best to not let the crowd unnerve her.
Sunny smiled a little bit at the thumbs up. She wrote her own back, but it was almost illegible. She wasn't much of an artist, unfortunately. With that she snapped the book shut, returning it to her pocket, and headed towards the waystone. She was already in Prontera, she was just looking for Wendel. He didn't take long to find, even as a new player his appearance was pretty distinctive - tall, with all those scars on his neck. It was a little weird looking but Sunny didn't mind. Instead, she hurried towards him, giving him a short wave as she made her way past the crowd around the waystone.
"Hey!" she called out as she made her approach, "Nice to see you!" she said with a grin.
Wendel nodded quickly, waving back.
"You're--yes, it's nice too," she managed, her hand still swaying in the air for some reason. Was the swordsman going for a hi-five or...?
Sunny kept on grinning, eagerly giving Wendel a high five. “So, what’re we gonna do?”
Oh. Right. Hi-five was definitely what she was going for there.
Wendel quickly whipped her hand to behind her back. "Uh, there's that quest line I've been putting off. Not sure if you've already done it but..."
Hm. Actually.
"Hey, did you see something weird on they waystone list earlier?"
“Huh…?” Sunny gave an exaggerated look of thought for a moment, bringing her hand up to her chin and looking down. Actually, she did see something weird… “Yeah. There was like, a spot where nothing was there. Is that what you’re talking about?”
Another nod. "Might have to file a report before we leave." Wendel was already pulling out one of her books.
Sunny raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t we see where it goes? Maybe we’ll find, like… I dunno, some neat glitch. Or maybe our games will just crash.”
Or they got stuck in some blank white space, forever falling with no one to ever find them until their bodies finally broke down beyond human recognition...
Yeah, Wendel wasn't going to voice that thought like a weirdo any time soon.
"Glitch sounds good," she squeaked, "Lead the way?"
“Yep!” Sunny chirpped eagerly, popping open her book and quickly placing her and Wendel in a party. “Hopefully it doesn’t mess us up too hard." She opened the locations list on the waystone, picking the peculiar blank spot and confirming it as their teleport location.
And suddenly they were in front of the gate with the others. She took in the location before giving a glance to Wendel, “Woah. Where the heck are we now? You seen anything like this?”
The swordsman glanced around. "Sort of. In an ani--" Noooo. "Uh, in a cartoon a few times. I think."
Sunny gave him a wry smile. "In a what now?" she said teasingly, giving him a slight nudge with her elbow.
"Ani-animation. You know."
Sunny narrowed her eyes. She hadn’t watched a lot of anime and didn’t have much of an opinion on it, but this was funny. “Oh yeah? Anime-tion? Huh, what sort of cartoons do you see all this Japanese stuff in…?"
Wendel squirmed, made a series of helpless muttering noises before gesturing to the NPC and the scrolls in front of them. "H-hey, what's up with this contract stuff? Wouldn't they have sent a notice if new DLC was out?"
Sunny shrugged. “Maybe they wanted to do something different? Some kind of hidden event for new content?” she hit the accept button without hesitation, taking barely a second to read the EULA, “Seems interesting though, doesn’t it?”
The swordsman watched with dread as Sunny accepted the scroll with barely a glance. Great, now she was going to look like an idiot if she took the time to read it. Normally, Wendy never even used wi-fi hotspots without at least skimming the Terms and Conditions.
"Yes, it doesn't really seem like a World's End aesthetic," she said as she skim-scrolled through the EULA, trying (and most likely failing) to look as nonchalant as one could, "It might be another crossover event. Or something?"
“Yeah. They had a tie-in anime, right?” Sunny said with a half-smirk, trying to suppress a chuckle.
Wendel tapped the 'Accept' button with a deep grimace.
"L-looks like we just wait here," she blatantly ignored that last comment.
”Guess so.” Sunny said, stretching her arms upward and yawning, ”So… like… what do ya do besides video games?” Sunny said with a smile, trying her best to start up a conversation so they didn’t just stand there like dopes.
Ah, yes. Small talk. Wendel mentally ran through the tips Joy had given her as she spoke.
"Not much." No, wait, she wasn't supposed to do that. "There's a nice reserve nearby. I go through--jog. I jog around it. And through it. Uh, besides video games? I watch movies with my brother sometimes. And friends." Because she was a normal person that talked to people outside her immediate family, yes.
That went about as well as it could have. "Uh, you?"
"Oh, around it and through it." Sunny teased lightly with a grin, "I, uh, play guitar. And sing. And write songs, I guess, but I've been uh... I guess I've been kinda busy and haven't been doing that so much lately. Work and stuff." Sunny said with a shrug, "I knit, I guess" she added on nonchalantly.
"Oh, that's nice."
And it was. Sunny seemed like an interesting person, way more than Wendy. Wendel (unwisely and to Joy's instinctual frustration somewhere in the city) decided to leave it at that.
Sunny smiled. For a moment she waited for Wendel to continue, and then realized that he wasn’t going to. That didn’t deter her, however, “I work as a barista. At one of those hipster coffee places, so I guess that’s a hobby too. There’s a lot that goes into that stuff… y’know, like, grind size, uh, roast, they’re even kind of particular about the kind of water we use.” she said with a small laugh.
Wendel blinked. Shit, yeah, she was meant to grab onto those conversation threads. A tinge of relief filled her when she realised what Sunny did. "Huh. I guess tap water's not an option?"
“Heh. No, certainly not. They have us, like, filter it and then add this chemical solution to it. They’ve got a recipe for water, believe it or not. Guess that why it’s four bucks a cup…” Sunny laughed again, running an idle hand through her hair.
"I hope your cafe's not situated anywhere near a drinking fountain then," Wendel allowed herself a chuckle too.
“No, it’s not. Good thing too!” Sunny said, laughing a little harder. There was a slight pause, “Man, I wish this show got on the road already! I’m interested in seeing what’s behind that big gate.”
"Yeah," Wendel glanced at the gate, "I have a feeling it's going to be something nice."
Sunny nodded before continuing to chatter away about her job, because Wendel seemed interested in that.
"Should we, uh... Do you want to be friends?"
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Credit
Appearance: Presentation is something that Wendy lauds with much thought but little effort. She's 5'7", fit, dresses vaguely sporty with that casual sweatpants look everyone's doing these days. Wendy can almost always be found with a distant, thoughtful look on her face. Recently some bags have been growing under her eyes ("Wake me at 3 again and I'm throwing the router out the window." "...").
Personality: Aloof, quiet, sometimes so awkward it makes you wonder why she even left the house that day. Even after a brief conversation, it's fairly easy to tell that Wendy isn't the most socially competent person. It's something she's been trying to rectify over the years, with encouragement from her siblings and varying success. It gets really hard sometimes. She wouldn't deem herself uncomfortable in most social situations anymore but there are definitely times when she zones out and thinks of all the other things she could be doing instead.
Like grocery shopping. Or walking through the park. She likes the park.
Background: Wendy was born the youngest of three. She grew up in an uneventful suburb. Not quite savvy enough to join the middle-class cliques but not enough of a pushover to get properly picked on, she found herself in a strange void in her school years. Friends were few and far between. Hobbies swinging between nerdy and sporty came and went. The only real constants she had were Lucas and Joy, who were always more than willing to dote on their youngest.
College passed in a similar manner, and it was there where Wendy knew she had to step out of her comfort zone. It worked, somewhat ("Mm." "Getting there, kiddo."), but those days seemed to go by in a flash. Employment was the next big step, or at least the plan. Employers didn't seem to be interested in newly-grads who clammed up after a few sentences.
Wendy currently works as a pizza delivery-driver, courtesy of Lucas' friend's friend, and resides with Joy in an apartment close to the city. World's End Online was a hobby she'd picked up from her brother, the remaining sibling occasionally joining their party despite her claims that she'd "grown out of it". Though other VR games provided the superhero experience she and Lucas prefer, Wendy found herself drawn to the quaint aesthetic of the medieval period, as well as the calm she found in the grindier quests.
Ingame Name: Wendel Douglass ("You're not smart, Lucas." "Yer nert shmert, Loo-kuhs." "Ugh.")
Ingame Gender: Uh. ("Should we flip a coin?" "Oh, there's a third option.")
Ingame Appearance: Wendel's appearance is based on her real self, apart from some very noticeable changes that make her look more androgynous than her standard fare. An almost comical array of scars adorn her face and neck ("How many do you need?" "As many as we can get."), accompanied by an equally vast collection of ear piercings. ("How many do you need?" "At least these ones make sense, asshole.") Her jaw is considerably sharper, more masculine. ("Woah. Should I grow my hair out?" "I don't know what Kim sees in you.") In similar trains of thought, she also sports a virtual height of 5'11" and a significantly more muscular body. ("I like it." "Yeah, can't blame you there.")
Ingame Personality: Her strange fascination with the scenery is magnified tenfold. Pretty much the same as real life, except now that she has the luxury of literally frolicking away from her anxieties, she's likely to take it. The virtual world is nicer like that.
Class: Swordsman ("They look big." "Huh?" "Just let her be.")
Notable Skills
("Non-confrontational as ever, hey?" "You think so?")
Thunder Stroke: Wendel grips her sword by the blade and swings it in a wide arc, inflicting damage and a significant knock-back effect on any enemies caught in her path.
Blade Dash: Wielding her weapon in a fencer's stance, Wendel surges forward with supernatural speed. The damage inflicted is negligible but enemies in the line of fire are left stunned for 5 seconds. She mostly uses this skill outside of combat to traverse large distances faster.
Pack Mule (Passive): Wendel likes to hike. Movement speed remains unaffected by bag weight. Immunity to stamina-based debuffs.
Equipment: Knightly sword, heater shield, armor, Adventurer's Kit with extra comfy bedroll.
Others: Lucas is 28 and set to wed next Spring. Joy is 24 and "too fuckdamn good for the bitches in this dagshit town". ("Drink some water. And please stop coming back so late.")
"Should we, uh... Do you want to be friends?"
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Credit
Appearance: Presentation that Wendy lauds with much thought but little effort. She's 5'7", fit, dresses vaguely sporty with that casual sweatpants look everyone's doing these days. Wendy can almost always be found with a distant, thoughtful look on her face. Recently some bags have been growing under her eyes ("Wake me up at 3 again and I'm throwing the router out the window." "...").
Personality: Aloof, quiet, sometimes so awkward it makes you wonder why she even left the house that day. Even after a brief conversation, it's fairly easy to tell that Wendy isn't the most socially competent person. It's something she's been trying to rectify over the years, with encouragement from her siblings and varying success. Pretty hard, sometimes. She wouldn't deem herself uncomfortable in most social situations anymore but there are definitely times when she zones out and thinks of all the other things she could be doing instead.
Like grocery shopping. Or walking through the park. She likes the park.
Background: Wendy was born the youngest of three. She grew up in an uneventful suburb. Not quite savvy enough to join the middle-class cliques but not enough of a pushover to get properly picked on, she found herself in a strange void in her school years. Friends were few and far between. Hobbies swinging between nerdy and sporty came and went. The only real constants she had were Lucas and Joy, who were always more than willing to dote on their youngest.
College passed in a similar manner, and it was there where Wendy knew she had to step out of her comfort zone. It worked, somewhat ("Mm." "You're getting there, kiddo."), but those days seemed to go by in a flash. Employment was the next big step. That was the plan anyway. Employers didn't seem to have an interested in newly-grads who clammed up after a few sentences.
Wendy currently works as a pizza delivery-driver, courtesy of Lucas' friend's friend, and resides with Joy in an apartment close to the city. World's End Online was a hobby she'd picked up from her brother, the remaining sibling occasionally joining their party despite her claims that she'd "grown out of it". Though other VR games provided the superhero experience she and Lucas prefer, Wendy found herself drawn to the quaint aesthetic of the medieval period, as well as the calm she found in the grindier quests.
Ingame Name: Wendel Douglass ("You're not smart, Lucas." "Yer nert shmert, Loo-kuhs." "Ugh.")
Ingame Gender: Uh. ("Should we flip a coin?" "Oh, there's a third option.")
Ingame Appearance: Wendel's appearance is based on her real self, apart from some very noticeable changes. An almost comical array of scars adorn her face and neck ("How many do you need?" "As many as we can get."), accompanied by an equally vast collection of ear piercings. ("How many do you need?" "At least these ones make sense, asshole.") Her jaw is considerably sharper, more masculine. ("Woah. Should I grow my hair out?" "I don't know what Kim sees in you.") In similar trains of thought, she also sports a virtual height of 5'11" and a significantly more muscular body. ("I like it." "Yeah, can't blame you there.")
Ingame Personality: Her strange fascination with the scenery is magnified tenfold. Pretty much the same as real life, except now that she has the luxury of literally frolicking away from her anxieties, she's likely to take it. The virtual world is nicer like that.
Class: Swordsman ("They look big." "Huh?" "Just let her be.")
Notable Skills
("Non-confrontational as ever, hey?" "You think so?")
Thunder Stroke: Wendel grips her sword by the blade and swings it in a wide arc, inflicting damage and a significant knock-back effect on any enemies caught in her path.
Blade Dash: Wielding her weapon in a fencer's stance, Wendel surges forward with supernatural speed. The damage inflicted is negligible but enemies in the line of fire are left stunned for 5 seconds. She mostly uses this skill outside of combat to traverse large distances faster.
Pack Mule (Passive): Wendel likes to hike. Movement speed remains unaffected by bag weight. Immunity to stamina-based debuffs.
Equipment: Knightly sword, heater shield, armor, Adventurer's Kit with extra comfy bedroll.
Others: Lucas is 28 and is set to wed next Spring. Joy is 24 and "too fuckdamn good for the bitches in this dagshit town". ("Drink some water and please stop coming back so late.")
𝓝𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝟖𝓽𝓱, 𝟏𝟑𝟐𝟕 / / 𝓐𝓾𝓼𝓯𝓮𝓵𝓭 / / 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓪𝓷'𝓼 𝓔𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓮 / / 𝓜𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰
Amelie eyed the stable horses warily, as concerned with them this morning as she had been the day before.
They were formidable creatures for sure. Special, with how out of reach they seemed. Outside of the travelling caravans that would pass through their village, the noble beasts were a rare sight. The churchmen had been a notable exception.
Amelie guessed that the horse's back was about as tall as her brow. That didn't seem like a good thing. She'd warned Wren about being trampled for a reason. Nonetheless, the brunette was determined not to fall behind, not while there was a noble in the near vicinity. Her shoulders squared themselves, and she willed her expression to remain still.
It wasn't so different from the one Wren wore, face neutral even while bullets of sweat gathered at the back of her neck. She didn't want to touch the horses, let alone ride them. She had to draw the line somewhere, didn't she?
Wren continued staring at the massive animals as she relayed a voiceless message to her compatriot, "M'not doing this."
As far as riding went, Yulia had no cause for concern; considering who she worked for, she'd been taught some time ago. Unworried by the upcoming lessons, she'd wasted no time in mounting her horse and taking the opportunity to properly look over the other pairs. They seemed... interesting, to put it charitably. Her gaze paused on the nearest two, the brown-haired girl and her dirt-covered companion.
The efforts to conceal their unease were admirable, but a neutral expression did little to hide how tense someone was, and she felt fairly certain of their discomfort. Not experienced riders, by her estimation, which made one pair; she'd have to wait and see how well the twins were faring, as well. She'd been fairly distant towards her partner, oddly enough; but in contrast the smile on her face was warm, all friendly concern - mixed with a little amusement - as she waited for the other pairs to get ready. "You'll get used to them faster than you expect, for what it's worth."
Oof. Were their nerves that obvious? Either way, she accepted the encouragement gratefully.
"Thank you, miss," Amelie bowed her head before turning to Wren. She placed her shaking hand on the seat of the saddle, summoning an encouraging smile. The horse huffed with the contact.
"See? It's not too bad. You don't even have to touch it!"
Were they serious? They couldn't be serious, could they? Wren frowned in alarm, her expression more severe as she looked from Yulia to Amelie.
"No."
"C'mon, just try putting your hand on one like how I'm doing. I heard that horses are really...f-friendly. And shy."
A pause as Amelie willed her hand to stop shaking. It worked, sort of. She got an idea.
"You're not scared of the poor old horsie, are you?" she said out loud, making sure someone outside the pair would hear. Apologies could come later.
What?! Bristling with frustration, Wren's gaze darted to Yulia and the others for a moment before she quickly hissed a response, "No, I am not scared of it."
She scowled, suddenly becoming aware of her partner's game.
"It just--" Wren searched for the words, "What's the point?"
"The longer you take to get on the horse, the more time you'll have to spend with them; they won't let you skip the lesson." Yulia's expression was sympathetic, assuming the girl's partner had little reason to lie about her fears. "As for usefulness, they can travel further than you, and faster, for longer. You'll need to ride, unless you think you can win a race with a horse."
Wren furrowed her brow, as if actually considering the possibility before providing a short nod. Either way, this seemed to be another one of those pesky 'requirements'. The list of which was growing longer and more horrible by the day. Next they'll be asking her sit in a tub of hot water. She sighed through her nose and looked back to Amelie, "You first."
Oh, gods.
Amelie continued grinning painfully. "No...problem...!"
As the girl opened her mouth to ask the instructor for assistance, a loud "Phew! About time, eh?" rang out. Lysandra Aulmoore yawned, trotting lazily around on her own horse.
"Come on, man, help the poor soul out!"
The instructor scowled but did as he was told, pulling out a mounting block he'd prepared for the beginners. He had told them to mount from the midsection, grabbing the reins and front of the saddle with one hand while keeping the stirrup steady in the other. Amelie did exactly that. With a burst of energy in her leg, she pulled her upper body onto the steed. Only her upper body.
"Um..." Amelie shivered, the blatant lack of solid ground against her soles becoming very daunting. The instructor helped her get the other leg over. However the damage had been done. Amelie was seated now, but was bent forward as if attempting to maintain fetal position despite both feet trapped firmly in the stirrups. She didn't dare look up.
"...S-see?" she looked to Wren, trying to follow the instructor's exasperated plea to straighten her back, "N-n-nothing to it..."
Boy, did that sound convincing. Wren frowned, scratching the back of her neck.
Alright. She was doing this. Adjusting her hat, cloak, and gloves, Wren bravely stepped towards her allotted steed. She eyed the horse warily as she took the reigns and side-stepped onto the block, prepared to react in case the animal made any sudden movements. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the tail flick and her head snapped towards it, lips pursing into a long, thin line.
Damnit. She took a deep breath, slipped one foot into the stirrup and jumped, quickly swinging her free leg up between herself and the horse. The resulting position left her gripping the horn and and some stray strap on the saddle while her knee pushed against her nose. She flexed her foot in the stirrup to little avail. Gods, why was this dumb thing so big?
Not wanting to be interfered with as Amelie had been, Wren grit her teeth and flailed until she finally managed to pull herself the rest of the way up. All the way up. All that tree climbing was paying off. Crouched with both feet planted in the seat, Wren cautiously gripped the saddle, choosing a position that would allow her to bail quickly should she need to.
The smallest trace of a satisfied smile pulled at her lips as she stared at the horse beneath her. She'd done it!
"...That doesn't look--nngh!" Amelie collapsed back into her crouched position, the will to push herself upright lost when the horse shifted below her.
Yulia had been finding a little more entertainment from the pair's struggle than she should have, but that changed as the smaller one leaped onto the saddle. Mentally preparing herself to rush over when this went horribly wrong, she stared at the girl in genuine bewilderment. "S-sit down! You'll fall!"
"Hm?" Wren glanced at the the woman with an offended frown. Her? Fall? Not a chance. And she wasn't about to start hugging the horse for dear life. Besides, this way seemed better. She felt much more in control. Choosing to ignore the advice, Wren reached for the reins. Now how was she supposed to get this thing going again?
"Oooh. Impressive, but that won't do, little girl," Aulmoore shrugged. She seemed disappointed that she wouldn't be able to see someone ride standing up, "If you want to get her to move, you need to squeeze her with both legs. Sitting."
Wren glowered. Who the hell was she calling little girl? Urgh. And what did she mean by 'squeeze'? She didn't want to think about having to wrap her legs around the creature. Thinking for a moment, Wren lowered her torso closer to the horse, reaching her arms out on either side. Maybe she could imitate it?
Temporarily dropping to one knee, Wren firmly clapped her hands on either side of the horse. Squeezing quickly shifted into scratching as the horse's body lurched forward. Her fingers dug into the side of the saddle as her balance entirely abadoned her. It was moving too much! She couldn't grab on!
Sucking air through her teeth in place of a scream, Wren unexpectedly began to slide right off the side of the horse. "Oof!" she attempted a one legged jump to get away, covering her head and rolling as she hit the ground. Thankfully the horse stepped over her and soon came to a stop, leaving the stubborn hermit curled up in a small cloud of dust.
Watching the girl topple, Yulia couldn’t feel too sympathetic, a muttered “told you so,” accompanying her own – far more deliberate – dismount. With a frown, she looked over to the crumpled heap on the floor, concern creeping in. At least the horse hadn’t trampled her, or there'd be far more to worry about. “Are you hurt?”
Wren laid there in defeat for a moment, reflecting on the events which had brought her there. Yes, it seemed horse riding was an activity best done seated after all. It was a mistake not to listen-- just as much as it was a mistake to come here. At the nearing voice, Wren pushed herself onto all fours, indignantly glancing up at Yulia for a moment before sighing. "Yes," she responded, a little dustier than before, but overall fine save for a red scrape on her cheek. Her layers of dingy clothing had at least accomplished that much. She quickly stood, not bothering to brush off the dirt as she straightened her hat and cloak. She frowned at several of the petals and leaves left behind on the ground, quickly picking up one particular twig of rosemary which was still in tact.
Yulia looked at the scrape, appearing to contemplate something for a couple of seconds before nodding to herself. Usually, she’d save her magic for something more dangerous, but she could handle riding a little tired, especially if it earned her some goodwill. Next time she’d bring some medical supplies. After a few seconds, the cut was healed, though Yulia noticeably winced upon the spell’s completion. Speaking loudly enough for the whole group to hear, she forced a slight smile.
“Try not to fall too often. I’m happy to help with any injuries, but it’s a little more straining than I’d like.”
Meanwhile, Amelie had been doing her best to dismount; a rather hapless effort since the instructor had been too distracted by Wren's fall to help her down. She eventually got it. After finally freeing her foot from the stirrup, Amelie swung her leg over with what seemed like a bizarre, horizontal cartwheel, landing in a splits-esque position with one foot still in the remaining stirrup.
"She's fallen from worse," Amelie panted, winded from the sudden spike of panic and still reeling from the height of the horse, "But that was way too close, Wren."
She turned to Yulia. "Thank you for your kindness. I hope it didn't tax you too much."
“Well…” Yulia yawned, turning to head back towards her horse. It wasn’t an entirely pleasant experience, to say the least. The suddenness of the fatigue seemed to have taken her by surprise, but she waved off the concern with a small smile. “It’s not so terrible. You never know, the practice might do me good.”
Wren rubbed at the smooth place on her cheek where the scrape once was, not fully comprehending who was responsible at first. She spent a good amount of time trying to find it. She hardly noticed Amelie when she spoke to her.
When it seemed as though Yulia might be returning to her horse, Wren spoke up, "How did you do that?"
Yulia paused, looking back at the girl with a smile. “It’s magic, of course. One of you two should have your own, if I'm not mistaken. Mine heals.”
"Wren is the mage in our pair," Amelie smiled, relieved. "It's really cool."
Wren pursed her lips. It was cool... but maybe not that cool. Healing injuries immediately like that seemed like a pretty useful trick. At least her abilities could keep people from bothering her too badly. She chose not expand beyond a small shrug.
“Is that so? In that case, I’ll look forward to seeing it.” Yulia nodded towards Wren - seemingly respectfully - before looking over to their instructor and grimacing. As much as she’d have liked to ask for some more information now, they did have a lesson to continue after all. Her smile became apologetic as she stepped away. “While I’d love to hear more from you both, maybe that should be saved for another time. I fear our teachers might be getting a little impatient.” With that, the servant departed, heading away to remount her horse.
They were formidable creatures for sure. Special, with how out of reach they seemed. Outside of the travelling caravans that would pass through their village, the noble beasts were a rare sight. The churchmen had been a notable exception.
Amelie guessed that the horse's back was about as tall as her brow. That didn't seem like a good thing. She'd warned Wren about being trampled for a reason. Nonetheless, the brunette was determined not to fall behind, not while there was a noble in the near vicinity. Her shoulders squared themselves, and she willed her expression to remain still.
It wasn't so different from the one Wren wore, face neutral even while bullets of sweat gathered at the back of her neck. She didn't want to touch the horses, let alone ride them. She had to draw the line somewhere, didn't she?
Wren continued staring at the massive animals as she relayed a voiceless message to her compatriot, "M'not doing this."
As far as riding went, Yulia had no cause for concern; considering who she worked for, she'd been taught some time ago. Unworried by the upcoming lessons, she'd wasted no time in mounting her horse and taking the opportunity to properly look over the other pairs. They seemed... interesting, to put it charitably. Her gaze paused on the nearest two, the brown-haired girl and her dirt-covered companion.
The efforts to conceal their unease were admirable, but a neutral expression did little to hide how tense someone was, and she felt fairly certain of their discomfort. Not experienced riders, by her estimation, which made one pair; she'd have to wait and see how well the twins were faring, as well. She'd been fairly distant towards her partner, oddly enough; but in contrast the smile on her face was warm, all friendly concern - mixed with a little amusement - as she waited for the other pairs to get ready. "You'll get used to them faster than you expect, for what it's worth."
Oof. Were their nerves that obvious? Either way, she accepted the encouragement gratefully.
"Thank you, miss," Amelie bowed her head before turning to Wren. She placed her shaking hand on the seat of the saddle, summoning an encouraging smile. The horse huffed with the contact.
"See? It's not too bad. You don't even have to touch it!"
Were they serious? They couldn't be serious, could they? Wren frowned in alarm, her expression more severe as she looked from Yulia to Amelie.
"No."
"C'mon, just try putting your hand on one like how I'm doing. I heard that horses are really...f-friendly. And shy."
A pause as Amelie willed her hand to stop shaking. It worked, sort of. She got an idea.
"You're not scared of the poor old horsie, are you?" she said out loud, making sure someone outside the pair would hear. Apologies could come later.
What?! Bristling with frustration, Wren's gaze darted to Yulia and the others for a moment before she quickly hissed a response, "No, I am not scared of it."
She scowled, suddenly becoming aware of her partner's game.
"It just--" Wren searched for the words, "What's the point?"
"The longer you take to get on the horse, the more time you'll have to spend with them; they won't let you skip the lesson." Yulia's expression was sympathetic, assuming the girl's partner had little reason to lie about her fears. "As for usefulness, they can travel further than you, and faster, for longer. You'll need to ride, unless you think you can win a race with a horse."
Wren furrowed her brow, as if actually considering the possibility before providing a short nod. Either way, this seemed to be another one of those pesky 'requirements'. The list of which was growing longer and more horrible by the day. Next they'll be asking her sit in a tub of hot water. She sighed through her nose and looked back to Amelie, "You first."
Oh, gods.
Amelie continued grinning painfully. "No...problem...!"
As the girl opened her mouth to ask the instructor for assistance, a loud "Phew! About time, eh?" rang out. Lysandra Aulmoore yawned, trotting lazily around on her own horse.
"Come on, man, help the poor soul out!"
The instructor scowled but did as he was told, pulling out a mounting block he'd prepared for the beginners. He had told them to mount from the midsection, grabbing the reins and front of the saddle with one hand while keeping the stirrup steady in the other. Amelie did exactly that. With a burst of energy in her leg, she pulled her upper body onto the steed. Only her upper body.
"Um..." Amelie shivered, the blatant lack of solid ground against her soles becoming very daunting. The instructor helped her get the other leg over. However the damage had been done. Amelie was seated now, but was bent forward as if attempting to maintain fetal position despite both feet trapped firmly in the stirrups. She didn't dare look up.
"...S-see?" she looked to Wren, trying to follow the instructor's exasperated plea to straighten her back, "N-n-nothing to it..."
Boy, did that sound convincing. Wren frowned, scratching the back of her neck.
Alright. She was doing this. Adjusting her hat, cloak, and gloves, Wren bravely stepped towards her allotted steed. She eyed the horse warily as she took the reigns and side-stepped onto the block, prepared to react in case the animal made any sudden movements. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the tail flick and her head snapped towards it, lips pursing into a long, thin line.
Damnit. She took a deep breath, slipped one foot into the stirrup and jumped, quickly swinging her free leg up between herself and the horse. The resulting position left her gripping the horn and and some stray strap on the saddle while her knee pushed against her nose. She flexed her foot in the stirrup to little avail. Gods, why was this dumb thing so big?
Not wanting to be interfered with as Amelie had been, Wren grit her teeth and flailed until she finally managed to pull herself the rest of the way up. All the way up. All that tree climbing was paying off. Crouched with both feet planted in the seat, Wren cautiously gripped the saddle, choosing a position that would allow her to bail quickly should she need to.
The smallest trace of a satisfied smile pulled at her lips as she stared at the horse beneath her. She'd done it!
"...That doesn't look--nngh!" Amelie collapsed back into her crouched position, the will to push herself upright lost when the horse shifted below her.
Yulia had been finding a little more entertainment from the pair's struggle than she should have, but that changed as the smaller one leaped onto the saddle. Mentally preparing herself to rush over when this went horribly wrong, she stared at the girl in genuine bewilderment. "S-sit down! You'll fall!"
"Hm?" Wren glanced at the the woman with an offended frown. Her? Fall? Not a chance. And she wasn't about to start hugging the horse for dear life. Besides, this way seemed better. She felt much more in control. Choosing to ignore the advice, Wren reached for the reins. Now how was she supposed to get this thing going again?
"Oooh. Impressive, but that won't do, little girl," Aulmoore shrugged. She seemed disappointed that she wouldn't be able to see someone ride standing up, "If you want to get her to move, you need to squeeze her with both legs. Sitting."
Wren glowered. Who the hell was she calling little girl? Urgh. And what did she mean by 'squeeze'? She didn't want to think about having to wrap her legs around the creature. Thinking for a moment, Wren lowered her torso closer to the horse, reaching her arms out on either side. Maybe she could imitate it?
Temporarily dropping to one knee, Wren firmly clapped her hands on either side of the horse. Squeezing quickly shifted into scratching as the horse's body lurched forward. Her fingers dug into the side of the saddle as her balance entirely abadoned her. It was moving too much! She couldn't grab on!
Sucking air through her teeth in place of a scream, Wren unexpectedly began to slide right off the side of the horse. "Oof!" she attempted a one legged jump to get away, covering her head and rolling as she hit the ground. Thankfully the horse stepped over her and soon came to a stop, leaving the stubborn hermit curled up in a small cloud of dust.
Watching the girl topple, Yulia couldn’t feel too sympathetic, a muttered “told you so,” accompanying her own – far more deliberate – dismount. With a frown, she looked over to the crumpled heap on the floor, concern creeping in. At least the horse hadn’t trampled her, or there'd be far more to worry about. “Are you hurt?”
Wren laid there in defeat for a moment, reflecting on the events which had brought her there. Yes, it seemed horse riding was an activity best done seated after all. It was a mistake not to listen-- just as much as it was a mistake to come here. At the nearing voice, Wren pushed herself onto all fours, indignantly glancing up at Yulia for a moment before sighing. "Yes," she responded, a little dustier than before, but overall fine save for a red scrape on her cheek. Her layers of dingy clothing had at least accomplished that much. She quickly stood, not bothering to brush off the dirt as she straightened her hat and cloak. She frowned at several of the petals and leaves left behind on the ground, quickly picking up one particular twig of rosemary which was still in tact.
Yulia looked at the scrape, appearing to contemplate something for a couple of seconds before nodding to herself. Usually, she’d save her magic for something more dangerous, but she could handle riding a little tired, especially if it earned her some goodwill. Next time she’d bring some medical supplies. After a few seconds, the cut was healed, though Yulia noticeably winced upon the spell’s completion. Speaking loudly enough for the whole group to hear, she forced a slight smile.
“Try not to fall too often. I’m happy to help with any injuries, but it’s a little more straining than I’d like.”
Meanwhile, Amelie had been doing her best to dismount; a rather hapless effort since the instructor had been too distracted by Wren's fall to help her down. She eventually got it. After finally freeing her foot from the stirrup, Amelie swung her leg over with what seemed like a bizarre, horizontal cartwheel, landing in a splits-esque position with one foot still in the remaining stirrup.
"She's fallen from worse," Amelie panted, winded from the sudden spike of panic and still reeling from the height of the horse, "But that was way too close, Wren."
She turned to Yulia. "Thank you for your kindness. I hope it didn't tax you too much."
“Well…” Yulia yawned, turning to head back towards her horse. It wasn’t an entirely pleasant experience, to say the least. The suddenness of the fatigue seemed to have taken her by surprise, but she waved off the concern with a small smile. “It’s not so terrible. You never know, the practice might do me good.”
Wren rubbed at the smooth place on her cheek where the scrape once was, not fully comprehending who was responsible at first. She spent a good amount of time trying to find it. She hardly noticed Amelie when she spoke to her.
When it seemed as though Yulia might be returning to her horse, Wren spoke up, "How did you do that?"
Yulia paused, looking back at the girl with a smile. “It’s magic, of course. One of you two should have your own, if I'm not mistaken. Mine heals.”
"Wren is the mage in our pair," Amelie smiled, relieved. "It's really cool."
Wren pursed her lips. It was cool... but maybe not that cool. Healing injuries immediately like that seemed like a pretty useful trick. At least her abilities could keep people from bothering her too badly. She chose not expand beyond a small shrug.
“Is that so? In that case, I’ll look forward to seeing it.” Yulia nodded towards Wren - seemingly respectfully - before looking over to their instructor and grimacing. As much as she’d have liked to ask for some more information now, they did have a lesson to continue after all. Her smile became apologetic as she stepped away. “While I’d love to hear more from you both, maybe that should be saved for another time. I fear our teachers might be getting a little impatient.” With that, the servant departed, heading away to remount her horse.
GEORGE ELLINGTON
George felt some responsibility for the fake out this whole night turned out to be.
Maybe if he hadn’t been bashing Purp’s ears so hard, the ‘razzi doll wouldn’t’ve wriggled outta his mitts. The ‘beatnik’ watched in gobsmacked dismay as the other arrival, some brickhouse brunette, popped the clutch and tore ass after the photographer. Well, George might’ve been a total fat-head in a fight but if it was a chase that needed to be run, he was your guy. He’d have to go hard after this false start though. With a crouch of his long legs, he felt his power swell around him, and he took off with an explosive leap.
Speaking of ‘explosive’…
The ear-smashing bang caught the group as soon as his feet left the ground. The edge of the Hot Box dug painfully into his back. There was no time to react, no time to revert. Gravity still borderline eradicated, the kinetic force of the blast threw the boy upwards and outwards, his terrified screech thankfully masked by the noise of the explosion as he ascended past the skyline.
George felt some responsibility for the fake out this whole night turned out to be.
Maybe if he hadn’t been bashing Purp’s ears so hard, the ‘razzi doll wouldn’t’ve wriggled outta his mitts. The ‘beatnik’ watched in gobsmacked dismay as the other arrival, some brickhouse brunette, popped the clutch and tore ass after the photographer. Well, George might’ve been a total fat-head in a fight but if it was a chase that needed to be run, he was your guy. He’d have to go hard after this false start though. With a crouch of his long legs, he felt his power swell around him, and he took off with an explosive leap.
Speaking of ‘explosive’…
The ear-smashing bang caught the group as soon as his feet left the ground. The edge of the Hot Box dug painfully into his back. There was no time to react, no time to revert. Gravity still borderline eradicated, the kinetic force of the blast threw the boy upwards and outwards, his terrified screech thankfully masked by the noise of the explosion as he ascended past the skyline.
Tell me if links are bad bois. Won't put this in IC post until the Xander stuff is added.
6:30am – Siena cracked her phone like some dumdum. Callan has problems controlling her dumdum face.
10:30am – Welcome (back) to USARILN East.
After Arrival – Emma is good at triangles. Best Girl enters the fray and fills the Unit’s Punk Girl quota. (alone in the dark)
4:00pm – Sander slobbers all over a poor defenseless Christmas. Christmas is a shy gay. (my fire, my faith)
5:00pm – Brent is bad at office administration. Rosa encourages children to play with sharp things. (Acquisition)
?????? – Angelique gets a check up.
10:30am – Welcome (back) to USARILN East.
After Arrival – Emma is good at triangles. Best Girl enters the fray and fills the Unit’s Punk Girl quota. (alone in the dark)
4:00pm – Sander slobbers all over a poor defenseless Christmas. Christmas is a shy gay. (my fire, my faith)
5:00pm – Brent is bad at office administration. Rosa encourages children to play with sharp things. (Acquisition)
?????? – Angelique gets a check up.
5:00am – Ernie bitches about people (no surprise there). Brent reveals his lapse of retardation. (Ernie and Brent: Working Things Out)
5:00am – Ernie is a South American crime lord. Zoe is a filthy pig. (Ernie and Zoe: Insinuations and Initiated Investigations)
11:00am – Callan continues her endless reign of destruction over Suite 430. Marcus gets sexy texts from his older sister’s friend. Weird. (Pep Talks and Toast)
12:00pm – Callan continues her endless reign of destruction over the USARILN East campus. Rosa gets a boo-boo. (Permission Slip Up)
12:30pm – Callan continues her endless reign of second-hand embarrassment over Ernie. Ernie does a decent Matrix impression. (Barely Aware)
1:00pm – Hazel is good at names. Siena doesn’t ruin her clothes this time. The mime wins.
1:30pm – Zoe gets a boo-boo and also there’s backstory stuff. (Solo Post: Built for This)
2:00pm – Marcus gets robbed. Emma was likely a low-key Satanist. Determination don’t play by no rules. (Emma and Marcus – Bubble and Trouble)
5:00pm – Callan judges a book by a cover Emma briefly described. What a butt. Brent is a weirdo stalker man. (How’s Your Fine?)
6:00pm – Callan has shit taste in everything. Emma is a filthy hipster.
7:00pm – Siena is good at Google. Zoe is bad at school. (Zoe & Siena: Nobody Needs to Know)
9:30pm – Kusari hallucinates biblical figures. Callan hallucinates Angelic figures. (Knock On Wood)
5:00am – Ernie is a South American crime lord. Zoe is a filthy pig. (Ernie and Zoe: Insinuations and Initiated Investigations)
11:00am – Callan continues her endless reign of destruction over Suite 430. Marcus gets sexy texts from his older sister’s friend. Weird. (Pep Talks and Toast)
12:00pm – Callan continues her endless reign of destruction over the USARILN East campus. Rosa gets a boo-boo. (Permission Slip Up)
12:30pm – Callan continues her endless reign of second-hand embarrassment over Ernie. Ernie does a decent Matrix impression. (Barely Aware)
1:00pm – Hazel is good at names. Siena doesn’t ruin her clothes this time. The mime wins.
1:30pm – Zoe gets a boo-boo and also there’s backstory stuff. (Solo Post: Built for This)
2:00pm – Marcus gets robbed. Emma was likely a low-key Satanist. Determination don’t play by no rules. (Emma and Marcus – Bubble and Trouble)
5:00pm – Callan judges a book by a cover Emma briefly described. What a butt. Brent is a weirdo stalker man. (How’s Your Fine?)
6:00pm – Callan has shit taste in everything. Emma is a filthy hipster.
7:00pm – Siena is good at Google. Zoe is bad at school. (Zoe & Siena: Nobody Needs to Know)
9:30pm – Kusari hallucinates biblical figures. Callan hallucinates Angelic figures. (Knock On Wood)
9:00am – Fantasy Costco, where all your dreams come true! GOT A DEAL FOR YOU! Ernie leaves a Shrek cosplay behind. Siena is a benevolent piano teacher. (Ernie and Siena: Shopping and Not-So-Much Truth Dropping)
3:00pm – Callan thinks Determination is cool, an opinion that’ll definitely last for the long-term. Emma is a coffee snob. Determination does sex jokes?? (Emma and Callan – Déjà Vu)
9:00pm – Brent cops a feel. Siena suffers, as usual. (Brent’s Spaghetti)
3:00pm – Callan thinks Determination is cool, an opinion that’ll definitely last for the long-term. Emma is a coffee snob. Determination does sex jokes?? (Emma and Callan – Déjà Vu)
9:00pm – Brent cops a feel. Siena suffers, as usual. (Brent’s Spaghetti)
9:00am – Zoe explains how Marcus is gonna win. Not fighting what he hates, saving what he loves. Also Marcus is bad at running.
9:00am – Ernie continues his endless reign of noise pollution over the Aberration Dorms. Allison ain’t afraid to cut a bitch. (Ernie and Allison: Hallway Hassling)
10:00am – Kusari finds her muse. Brent vogues. Siena suffers, as usual. (Like One of Your French Girls)
2:00pm – Ernie wants to trick-or-treat like some dumb little BABY. Emma is bad at arts and crafts. (Emma and Ernie – A Pleasant Chat)
7:00pm – Brent has the flyest ride in the hood. Siena is bad at chopsticks. (“EAT THIS!” “NEVER!”)
9:00am – Ernie continues his endless reign of noise pollution over the Aberration Dorms. Allison ain’t afraid to cut a bitch. (Ernie and Allison: Hallway Hassling)
10:00am – Kusari finds her muse. Brent vogues. Siena suffers, as usual. (Like One of Your French Girls)
2:00pm – Ernie wants to trick-or-treat like some dumb little BABY. Emma is bad at arts and crafts. (Emma and Ernie – A Pleasant Chat)
7:00pm – Brent has the flyest ride in the hood. Siena is bad at chopsticks. (“EAT THIS!” “NEVER!”)
2:00am – Marcus has a wet dream. Callan fakes a medical degree. Siena is clueless. Tater Tot lurks in the shadows.
10:00am – Emma gets no answers. Brent endorses the Church of Rosa Schur. (Catching the Dream)
6:00pm – Allison is a conspiracy nut. Zoe is a bad, bad friend. (Zoe & Allison: Giving Up the Ghost)
10:00am – Emma gets no answers. Brent endorses the Church of Rosa Schur. (Catching the Dream)
6:00pm – Allison is a conspiracy nut. Zoe is a bad, bad friend. (Zoe & Allison: Giving Up the Ghost)
10:00am – Ernie makes a girl cry again. Come on, dude. Callan falls asleep on someone else’s bed like a fucking WEIRDO. (Ernie and Callan: Bad News)
11:00am – Marnie Domestic AU. Don’t like, don’t read. OR: That one time Marcus and Ernie did a shitty reinterpretation of that scene from that John Green book. (Ernie and Marcus: Clearing Things Up)
2:00pm – Sander corners Ernie in the bathroom and somehow it is not as gay as it sounds. Ernie gets his slamjam on. (Ernie and Sander: Toilet Troubles)
2:30pm - Christmas didn't stutter once in this one. Did y'all notice that? Sander is bad at Spot the Difference. (my hallowed hell, your hollow heart)
4:00pm - Sander recaps his garbage Spot the Difference skills. Christmas doesn't do much but he's definitely gay in this one. (my shooting star, gravity bound)
6:00pm – Chris reaches peak baby bitch. Brent prays to Bullet RNG-sus. (Saints and Dragons)
After – Brent shines bright like a diamond. Siena is bad at emojis. (Re:)
7:00pm – Sander bleh
7:00pm – Callan ensures heart problems via energy drink for the long term. Grant is an enabler and occasional shouty boi. (Wish Granted)
8:00pm – Chris is a whiny baby man. Zoe works at Hot Topic. (Zoe & Chris: Naked Anger)
8:30pm – Grant unveils his master technique. UNLIMITED PET WORKS. Callan raids the dog treats (probably not the first time, amirite). Siena gets a new roommate, whether she likes it or not. (Pure Therapy)
10:30pm – Callan becomes PETA’s nemesis. Zoe supports her illegal activity. (Empty Encouragement)
11:00am – Marnie Domestic AU. Don’t like, don’t read. OR: That one time Marcus and Ernie did a shitty reinterpretation of that scene from that John Green book. (Ernie and Marcus: Clearing Things Up)
2:00pm – Sander corners Ernie in the bathroom and somehow it is not as gay as it sounds. Ernie gets his slamjam on. (Ernie and Sander: Toilet Troubles)
2:30pm - Christmas didn't stutter once in this one. Did y'all notice that? Sander is bad at Spot the Difference. (my hallowed hell, your hollow heart)
4:00pm - Sander recaps his garbage Spot the Difference skills. Christmas doesn't do much but he's definitely gay in this one. (my shooting star, gravity bound)
6:00pm – Chris reaches peak baby bitch. Brent prays to Bullet RNG-sus. (Saints and Dragons)
After – Brent shines bright like a diamond. Siena is bad at emojis. (Re:)
7:00pm – Sander bleh
7:00pm – Callan ensures heart problems via energy drink for the long term. Grant is an enabler and occasional shouty boi. (Wish Granted)
8:00pm – Chris is a whiny baby man. Zoe works at Hot Topic. (Zoe & Chris: Naked Anger)
8:30pm – Grant unveils his master technique. UNLIMITED PET WORKS. Callan raids the dog treats (probably not the first time, amirite). Siena gets a new roommate, whether she likes it or not. (Pure Therapy)
10:30pm – Callan becomes PETA’s nemesis. Zoe supports her illegal activity. (Empty Encouragement)
2:00am - Christmas reenacts an R. Kelly classic. Sander is bad at everything. Alvin's Yeezys aren't mentioned ONCE JAN, WHAT THE HELL. (my bitter taste, my hours wasted)
9:00am – Ernie vents at something that isn’t a time-frozen mannequin. Weird. Zoe is still a filthy pig. (Ernie and Zoe: Baking and Blaming)
9:00am – Callan bribes for friendship points. Determination makes a verbal boo-boo. Ernie shoots his goo all over the place. Emma is a double texter, which definitely won’t have its consequences in the long term. (Callan and Determination, Ernie and Callan, Callan and Emma: Callan Actually Cleans Something For Once)
1:00pm – THE SAV TALK AAAAAA. Ernie goes bungee jumping. Brent is a weeaboo. Siena gets ‘nam flashbacks. Marcus gets physically and emotionally beaten and it’s a thing.
6:30pm – Brent gets a roommate. Siena is bad at catching.
8:00pm – Callan almost sees the moon. Hazel grasps that shaft. (Will You Train With Me?)
12:00am – Sander can show you the world~~ Callan laments her single status. (Floating)
9:00am – Ernie vents at something that isn’t a time-frozen mannequin. Weird. Zoe is still a filthy pig. (Ernie and Zoe: Baking and Blaming)
9:00am – Callan bribes for friendship points. Determination makes a verbal boo-boo. Ernie shoots his goo all over the place. Emma is a double texter, which definitely won’t have its consequences in the long term. (Callan and Determination, Ernie and Callan, Callan and Emma: Callan Actually Cleans Something For Once)
1:00pm – THE SAV TALK AAAAAA. Ernie goes bungee jumping. Brent is a weeaboo. Siena gets ‘nam flashbacks. Marcus gets physically and emotionally beaten and it’s a thing.
6:30pm – Brent gets a roommate. Siena is bad at catching.
8:00pm – Callan almost sees the moon. Hazel grasps that shaft. (Will You Train With Me?)
12:00am – Sander can show you the world~~ Callan laments her single status. (Floating)
1:00am – Zoe is a conspiracy nut. Margot endorses underage bar hopping. (Zoe & Margot: Answers)
8:00am – Callan is a fucking weenie IDIOT. Determination falls on the wrong side of the Vicky Mendoza Diagonal. (Secrets Out)
After – Determination is TOO GOOD, MAN.
9:00am - Sander is good at money. Christmas poses for an inevitable future Jan commission.
11:00am – Ernie doesn’t study for Sander’s test. Sander is suspicious. Emma is fit for the interrogation room. (Ernie, Sander and Emma: Laundry and Leisurely Lying)
12:00pm – The title says it all. Ernie disrupts the Waffle House peace. Callan is a hecking weirdo but like more than usual.
3:00pm – Zoe continues to ruin the lives of Unit B. Zhang’s just here for a good time. (Zoe & Zhang: Making it Personal)
8:00am – Callan is a fucking weenie IDIOT. Determination falls on the wrong side of the Vicky Mendoza Diagonal. (Secrets Out)
After – Determination is TOO GOOD, MAN.
9:00am - Sander is good at money. Christmas poses for an inevitable future Jan commission.
11:00am – Ernie doesn’t study for Sander’s test. Sander is suspicious. Emma is fit for the interrogation room. (Ernie, Sander and Emma: Laundry and Leisurely Lying)
12:00pm – The title says it all. Ernie disrupts the Waffle House peace. Callan is a hecking weirdo but like more than usual.
3:00pm – Zoe continues to ruin the lives of Unit B. Zhang’s just here for a good time. (Zoe & Zhang: Making it Personal)
𝕋𝕦𝕖: 𝕆𝕔𝕥. 𝟙𝟛, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥 / / 𝕋𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔾𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕤 / / 𝟙𝟛𝟘𝟘
Ernie stuck his head around the corner, scanning every possible location until he was satisfied that the coast is clear. From behind the wall, he emerged, wielding formidable containers in both hands. In his left, a bulky first-aid kit, far too large for use on an active battlefield. In his right, a picnic basket. Both were gently placed in a location hidden from most angles as the Aberration pulled his phone out, accessing the Team SAP group chat.
It was a very difficult endeavor for Marcus to try and hide his texting from Siena, playing it off under the guise of texting Max. Still, he was worried that at any moment, she'd look over and the entire thing would be ruined. So, he'd tried to distract her with small talk everytime his phone buzzed.
"So where are we going again?" he asked, knowing full well where they were going.
Fortunately for Marcus, Siena was preoccupied with their plans for the day. The last thing she really wanted was for any serious injury, and while she doubted that would be the case with training knives, there was always the potential. Glancing at Marcus at his inquiry, the girl took a moment to process it. A small upturn of the corner of her lips indicated some attempt at a smile, though it wasn't really the warmest one she could muster.
"Training grounds. You're not having second thoughts about getting poked and jabbed, are you?"
"It's entirely possible that I'm having some second thoughts, yes." Marcus said. That part wasn't a stalling tactic; he was honestly a little bit worried about knife sparring, especially considering the Ernie had speared him through the leg with an arrow not that long ago. Who knew what he could do with a knife?
"Whoops. Hang on a second, my shoelace is untied." he added, kneeling down to tie his laces very slowly. Hopefully they didn't need too much time, because there were only so many ways he could draw this out.
"You really must be having second thoughts." Siena glanced down at Marcus's oddly slow procedure of tying his shoe. "I'm sure that they'll only stab you a little bit, but you don't have to come if you don't want to."
"Nono, I do want to come." Marcus said sheepishly, finishing his knot. Apparently that one hadn't exactly been subtle enough. "I definitely need the training, or at least the practice. I'm just...not super confident in the other two."
For varying reasons.
"Do you think we should get more band-aids? I've got this whole box of Precursor ones back at the suite we can use..." he said, jerking his thumb back towards the dorms.
"That sounds a little unsettling," Siena replied with a faint chuckle. "And I don't think having Benediction's face plastered over a cut will really make it heal any faster."
Still, the girl slowed her pace to a stop, facing her roommate with a cautious smile. Not entirely happy, she reminded herself--something that did its best to remove malice.
"If it makes you feel more comfortable, I'm reasonably certain that I can keep any serious injuries from happening, and relatively confident that I can fix anything that needs immediate attention." One way or another. The brunette let her lips twist upward into something closer to teasing as she rounded off the thought. "Buuuut if having the Precursor band-aids makes you feel safer, we can always go get them."
"Ech. Even if Bene did heal them faster, all I've got left are Kadabra. And he's got a weird bug-eye thing going on. It's super unsettling." Marcus said, grimacing a little and shaking his head.
The whole 'distraction' thing was starting to delve more into issues that he wasn't certainly he wanted to face. Would Siena being there make him feel more comfortable...or less? Somewhere in his mind, they were at the estate again; Siena calling into account how much he actually trusted her.
But this was a lot of introspection over some dumb bandaids.
"Can we? Just as a secondary Plan C? When you guys are all bleeding and I'm panicking?" Marcus said, attempting to sound as innocent as he physically could.
"Oh, ye of little faith. I sincerely doubt I'll be bleeding much," the girl replied with a light tone, but she realized in the back of her head that she wasn't entirely sure how serious the statement was. "But if you're that concerned, we can grab whatever you need from the dorm. The point is to make you feel more prepared, not like you've run through a battlefield."
It was a few moments later, and Marcus was sincerely hoping that his stall tactics had given Brent and Ernie enough time. There really wasn't much more he could do without arousing Siena's suspicion, and he was growing increasingly nervous as it appeared that neither of them were present. "Well...we're here!" he said, trying not to allow his uneasiness to show through.
Overhead, a tall figure was watching the Arbiters approach the training ground. With practiced efficiency, he dived down to deliver the perfect sneak attack, a cord trailing from his feet.
"SURPRISE!" Ernie shouted into Siena's face, noticeably golden and upside down. It seemed that he was hanging by his feet, his rope suspended metres in the air.
Siena had a few possibilities in mind when they arrived and the training ground seemed to be empty.
What was effectively someone pulling a Spiderman maneuver and shouting in her face was not one of those possibilities.
'Whattheholymotherfuckshitwhatthefuck?!'
Her body jerked back, her feet spacing themselves to better brace her, eyes widening in surprise as her mind tore through plausible reactions. Not enough time for her phone first, didn't have a source up and at the ready--what the fuck--she'd have to hope that her own strength was enough. Every makeshift plan fired through her head in the blink of an eye, and she felt her arm draw up, fist made--shouldn't have stepped back, that removed the option of using a knee or elbow effectively--prepared to drive forward in the moment of blind instinct.
The spectacle was amazing, really! He wasn't sure what Ernie had up his sleeve, but the sudden bungee-jump dive surprise was a neat little show. Hell, he was in the middle of giving Ernie a round of applause when he saw Siena's stance shift. Despite all the past experiences he had, and the fact that he absolutely should have expected this, he still didn't. This whole situation was more a point against him for not warning Ernie than anything else.
"Woah woah woah!" Marcus exclaimed in surprise, nearly leaping to grab Siena's hand before she could knock Ernie around like the pinata he resembled.
While Ernie was bungee jumping, Brent had been in position as well, silver circuitry racing down his forearms to overclock the party popper he had bought at the last minute. Fireworks had been a miss with Siena, but surely this wouldn't be as bad?
...no, he was totally doing this just to see what sort of reaction he got.
Wheeling around the corner after 'surprise' rang out, the arbiter pointed the popper at Ernie's suspended back, before letting it rip, a resounding 'FWEEEEEEEE' sounding before strings of colorful silk and glitter shot out with explosive force, saturating the immediate area with prismatic garbage that he had no intention of cleaning up. WIth a big fat grin, he leaned over to the side and called out (hopefully in unison to Rope Boi), "Happy birthday, 'ena!"
Too many things at once. Hand was caught on something, a pop that should have made her flinch, strings of color showering down. Too many things going at once. Her heart thundered, blood pounding in her ears, and the need to reason out what she was doing shut down, replaced by a much stronger need to survive.
That was probably most unfortunate for the single person that had nothing to do with invoking the reaction.
Fluidly, her feet pushed her away from the offending presences, closer to the one keeping her in place and hindering the very real need to respond to a flight or fight impulse. Unfortunately for Marcus, he was in the way of the "flight" instinct, which only left one option. She dropped her weight, one foot rising to slam down into the nearest unfamiliar foot, a heightened sense of danger pushing her to twist slightly to allow easier access for her free elbow to swing into the space behind her with as much strength as panic could muster.
'Oh my god, that's his face?!!'
Explosions, confetti. These guys really had everything planned out. It was a shame Siena had just tried to punch Ernie.
"Oh yeah, I should have mentioned, Siena's not good wi- OWCH!" Marcus started his apology, cut off by Siena stomping on his foot. He looked down for a brief moment to see what it was that was actually crushing his toes, before shooting an angry look at Siena. A look that wouldn't been seen past her own elbow.
"Oh, shi--!"
CRUNCH.
Oh boy. Crunch wasn't a good noise. Especially not when it was coming from his nose.
Marcus was vaguely aware of a pressure on his face, and a warmth. His thoughts were a little muddled by the ensuing concussion, a thousand little dialogues firing off at once.
Where had it all gone wrong? Why was his face so warm all of the sudden? Was he falling? Or was the ground rising? Was he on an elevator? That would explain things. Everything smelled funny. Man, his nose was really runny; hopefully someone brought a box of tissues. Rewind? That was silly - he wasn't even watching a movie! Man, Siena looked pissed. Who made her so mad? Why was there so much fog around? Was he doing a cartwheel? He couldn't cartwheel! Well, maybe he cou-
And then he crumpled to the floor. Like a five dollar sack of potatoes.
"Setting up now how long til bday girl comes"
It was a very difficult endeavor for Marcus to try and hide his texting from Siena, playing it off under the guise of texting Max. Still, he was worried that at any moment, she'd look over and the entire thing would be ruined. So, he'd tried to distract her with small talk everytime his phone buzzed.
"So where are we going again?" he asked, knowing full well where they were going.
T-minus 5-10, do I need to distract?
5-10 is perfet for me. Any idea where brent is tho?
Late. Stall a bit longer.
Looks like its up to yuo marco
Fortunately for Marcus, Siena was preoccupied with their plans for the day. The last thing she really wanted was for any serious injury, and while she doubted that would be the case with training knives, there was always the potential. Glancing at Marcus at his inquiry, the girl took a moment to process it. A small upturn of the corner of her lips indicated some attempt at a smile, though it wasn't really the warmest one she could muster.
"Training grounds. You're not having second thoughts about getting poked and jabbed, are you?"
"It's entirely possible that I'm having some second thoughts, yes." Marcus said. That part wasn't a stalling tactic; he was honestly a little bit worried about knife sparring, especially considering the Ernie had speared him through the leg with an arrow not that long ago. Who knew what he could do with a knife?
"Whoops. Hang on a second, my shoelace is untied." he added, kneeling down to tie his laces very slowly. Hopefully they didn't need too much time, because there were only so many ways he could draw this out.
"You really must be having second thoughts." Siena glanced down at Marcus's oddly slow procedure of tying his shoe. "I'm sure that they'll only stab you a little bit, but you don't have to come if you don't want to."
"Nono, I do want to come." Marcus said sheepishly, finishing his knot. Apparently that one hadn't exactly been subtle enough. "I definitely need the training, or at least the practice. I'm just...not super confident in the other two."
For varying reasons.
"Do you think we should get more band-aids? I've got this whole box of Precursor ones back at the suite we can use..." he said, jerking his thumb back towards the dorms.
"That sounds a little unsettling," Siena replied with a faint chuckle. "And I don't think having Benediction's face plastered over a cut will really make it heal any faster."
Still, the girl slowed her pace to a stop, facing her roommate with a cautious smile. Not entirely happy, she reminded herself--something that did its best to remove malice.
"If it makes you feel more comfortable, I'm reasonably certain that I can keep any serious injuries from happening, and relatively confident that I can fix anything that needs immediate attention." One way or another. The brunette let her lips twist upward into something closer to teasing as she rounded off the thought. "Buuuut if having the Precursor band-aids makes you feel safer, we can always go get them."
"Ech. Even if Bene did heal them faster, all I've got left are Kadabra. And he's got a weird bug-eye thing going on. It's super unsettling." Marcus said, grimacing a little and shaking his head.
The whole 'distraction' thing was starting to delve more into issues that he wasn't certainly he wanted to face. Would Siena being there make him feel more comfortable...or less? Somewhere in his mind, they were at the estate again; Siena calling into account how much he actually trusted her.
But this was a lot of introspection over some dumb bandaids.
"Can we? Just as a secondary Plan C? When you guys are all bleeding and I'm panicking?" Marcus said, attempting to sound as innocent as he physically could.
"Oh, ye of little faith. I sincerely doubt I'll be bleeding much," the girl replied with a light tone, but she realized in the back of her head that she wasn't entirely sure how serious the statement was. "But if you're that concerned, we can grab whatever you need from the dorm. The point is to make you feel more prepared, not like you've run through a battlefield."
It was a few moments later, and Marcus was sincerely hoping that his stall tactics had given Brent and Ernie enough time. There really wasn't much more he could do without arousing Siena's suspicion, and he was growing increasingly nervous as it appeared that neither of them were present. "Well...we're here!" he said, trying not to allow his uneasiness to show through.
Overhead, a tall figure was watching the Arbiters approach the training ground. With practiced efficiency, he dived down to deliver the perfect sneak attack, a cord trailing from his feet.
"SURPRISE!" Ernie shouted into Siena's face, noticeably golden and upside down. It seemed that he was hanging by his feet, his rope suspended metres in the air.
Siena had a few possibilities in mind when they arrived and the training ground seemed to be empty.
What was effectively someone pulling a Spiderman maneuver and shouting in her face was not one of those possibilities.
'Whattheholymotherfuckshitwhatthefuck?!'
Her body jerked back, her feet spacing themselves to better brace her, eyes widening in surprise as her mind tore through plausible reactions. Not enough time for her phone first, didn't have a source up and at the ready--what the fuck--she'd have to hope that her own strength was enough. Every makeshift plan fired through her head in the blink of an eye, and she felt her arm draw up, fist made--shouldn't have stepped back, that removed the option of using a knee or elbow effectively--prepared to drive forward in the moment of blind instinct.
The spectacle was amazing, really! He wasn't sure what Ernie had up his sleeve, but the sudden bungee-jump dive surprise was a neat little show. Hell, he was in the middle of giving Ernie a round of applause when he saw Siena's stance shift. Despite all the past experiences he had, and the fact that he absolutely should have expected this, he still didn't. This whole situation was more a point against him for not warning Ernie than anything else.
"Woah woah woah!" Marcus exclaimed in surprise, nearly leaping to grab Siena's hand before she could knock Ernie around like the pinata he resembled.
While Ernie was bungee jumping, Brent had been in position as well, silver circuitry racing down his forearms to overclock the party popper he had bought at the last minute. Fireworks had been a miss with Siena, but surely this wouldn't be as bad?
...no, he was totally doing this just to see what sort of reaction he got.
Wheeling around the corner after 'surprise' rang out, the arbiter pointed the popper at Ernie's suspended back, before letting it rip, a resounding 'FWEEEEEEEE' sounding before strings of colorful silk and glitter shot out with explosive force, saturating the immediate area with prismatic garbage that he had no intention of cleaning up. WIth a big fat grin, he leaned over to the side and called out (hopefully in unison to Rope Boi), "Happy birthday, 'ena!"
Too many things at once. Hand was caught on something, a pop that should have made her flinch, strings of color showering down. Too many things going at once. Her heart thundered, blood pounding in her ears, and the need to reason out what she was doing shut down, replaced by a much stronger need to survive.
That was probably most unfortunate for the single person that had nothing to do with invoking the reaction.
Fluidly, her feet pushed her away from the offending presences, closer to the one keeping her in place and hindering the very real need to respond to a flight or fight impulse. Unfortunately for Marcus, he was in the way of the "flight" instinct, which only left one option. She dropped her weight, one foot rising to slam down into the nearest unfamiliar foot, a heightened sense of danger pushing her to twist slightly to allow easier access for her free elbow to swing into the space behind her with as much strength as panic could muster.
'Oh my god, that's his face?!!'
Explosions, confetti. These guys really had everything planned out. It was a shame Siena had just tried to punch Ernie.
"Oh yeah, I should have mentioned, Siena's not good wi- OWCH!" Marcus started his apology, cut off by Siena stomping on his foot. He looked down for a brief moment to see what it was that was actually crushing his toes, before shooting an angry look at Siena. A look that wouldn't been seen past her own elbow.
"Oh, shi--!"
CRUNCH.
Oh boy. Crunch wasn't a good noise. Especially not when it was coming from his nose.
Marcus was vaguely aware of a pressure on his face, and a warmth. His thoughts were a little muddled by the ensuing concussion, a thousand little dialogues firing off at once.
Where had it all gone wrong? Why was his face so warm all of the sudden? Was he falling? Or was the ground rising? Was he on an elevator? That would explain things. Everything smelled funny. Man, his nose was really runny; hopefully someone brought a box of tissues. Rewind? That was silly - he wasn't even watching a movie! Man, Siena looked pissed. Who made her so mad? Why was there so much fog around? Was he doing a cartwheel? He couldn't cartwheel! Well, maybe he cou-
And then he crumpled to the floor. Like a five dollar sack of potatoes.
Eyes colored gold with the ability and name of her favored healer, Siena had chosen to remain faithful to the duty of fixing her roommate's face.
It was hard to believe that she'd managed, for the third time in a month, to hit the scarred boy directly in the face. With Marcus too far out of his wits to rewind the damage, Siena had found that profuse apology wasn't a viable option, and instead settled for fixing Marcus's very damaged nose. Without having to rely on a secondary ability to numb the pain, the brunette was able to at least deal with the worst of it with only a few pulls of the name--odd that Skonos had lingered longer that time than she ever had before. Still, the bruise had been a signal of the unfortunate event.
Grimacing, Siena focused on trying to fix that too.
"I can't believe I hit him in the face again."
Who could have seen this tragedy coming? No one, that's who.
While Siena wrapped up her healing magic deal, Brent was busy mentally absolving himself of any sort of guilt that may have spawned from watching his scarred buddy do a cartwheel after being elbowed in the face by a scrawny white chick. Yup, this was clear indication that Marcus needed to start working out his face muscles. Maybe he'd be more receptive than Emma to a workout routine? The arbiter took a bit of a corndog. Yup, that'll be his birthday present, whenever the hell that was.
"No worries," Brent said airily, "I'm sure we can all agree that this was just a misfortunate accident, 'ena. Get all the bad luck out of the way BEFORE we bring knives and swords into the mix, eh?"
"That doesn't sound too bad," Ernie chimed from a distance away. There was only about the third of the silk and streamers left to pick up, though he still hadn't thought up a way to clean up the glitter. Maybe there'd be a broom in Ground Zero... "Wait, did you say 'again'?"
"I didn't hit him with my elbow the other times..." As if that made any of it better. Siena grimaced at the memories. "Though I still feel terrible about it."
" 'Times'? With an 's'?!"
"Totes wild," Brent said, chuckling, "'ena's basically got Terminator reflexes, ya know? First one I recall was back in DC, where Marcus popped out from between clothes and got a...right jab, was it?"
"T-Terminator reflex--that's not a good thing." The girl grimaced again, scolding herself slightly when she felt an uncanny tugging sensation in the back of her mind for letting her focus drift too far. "I just...don't do well being startled."
"Yeah," Ernie sighed, "that one's on me. Sorry, Siena."
"I'll keep that in mind for future hijinks too," Brent replied, even if it was totally up in the air as to whether or not he'd continue to mine this little quirk for entertainment value, "And hey, it's not totally a bad thing. If a mugger leaps at you from the darkness, you'll be the one elbowing him in the face instead of screaming and doing nothing!"
"Uuuuurghl..." Marcus softly moaned, slowly opening his eyes. Blurriness slowly formed together to actually become the world, and Marcus squinted in confusion as his eyes attempted to focus on the closest object. It was...a person...small...female...
"Siena?" he muttered out loud, slowly sitting up. Why was he on the floor? He blinked a few times, trying to regain his bearings. Training Ground. They were in the Training Grounds. And....Ernie and Brent were here too. Things were starting to come back to him. Including what had actually occurred. After only a few moments of blankly staring into space, he'd reestablished his surroundings and actions.
"Did...you punch me in the face? ...Again?" He said, gingerly touching his nose.
"I-I'm sorry..." And she really was. "Try not to move too much, I'm almost done fixing the damage."
"Why me?"
"Um...well..." Siena winced a little as she tried to reason out the most plausible explanation. "If I had to venture a guess, I'd say probably because there was only one of you behind me to keep me from bolting?"
"Sounds about right," Brent added unhelpfully, "Between us gym bros, breaking past definitely wasn't an option." Ernie cackled heartily in the background.
"From now on, I'm wearing a goalie's mask around you." Marcus said, the last of daze finally clearing as he shot an irritated look to both Brent and Ernie. Lots of help they were. Team SAP...more like Team...something else.
Maybe the daze wasn't completely cleared.
"On the topic of hockey masks and ice skates, seguing into blades," the amethyst eyed arbiter spoke, "Let's get that cake up and out here, Ernie! Get a preview of 'ena's knife skills and all."
"Sounds good!"
Reaching into the picnic basket, Ernie pulled out his creation. The icing practice had gone well, many delicately piped flowers bordering the piece. A neatly written (and spelled) 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY' sat at the top, as well as an unlit candle that read '17' in bold red lettering.
It was only an instant, but she knew that the mask had failed. A flicker of something between hurt and betrayal that was just as effectively overwritten by confusion. She couldn't deny that the cake looked immaculately prepared. She couldn't deny that part of her wanted to feel good about the fact that they'd cared enough to put something together.
A much larger part was utterly uncertain of how the information had gotten out to begin with.
"H-how did you know it was my birthday?"
"Uhhh," Ernie frowned. That flicker of emotion hadn't been sustained enough to make him feel bad but, between this and the reaction to the friendly surprise, it certainly hadn't looked good. "The school gives out that information if you want it. And then Marcus confirmed so...I'm sorry, was that not okay?"
Before Marcus could even come up with an excuse, Ernie had thrown him under the bus. A painful and ill-advised facepalm was quickly turned into a 'my bad' face, as Marcus could nearly predict the accusatory glare he was going to get from Siena.
How? Her gaze slipped toward her roommate, still confused and uncertain, but she replaced the expression with a sheepish grin. Sort of.
"I-It's fine, I was um..." Careful. "Just trying not to make it a big deal or anything. I didn't really want to think too hard about it."
Not entirely inaccurate, if not quite the truth either.
"Right...sorry, man. If we knew birthdays weren't your thing we never would have shoved this on you."
"Oh, no, I...think I'm flattered?" Nervously, Siena tugged at the end of a stray lock of hair. "I've never really had anyone around that put this much effort into a birthday."
Was that weird? She had a sinking suspicion that she should have kept that to herself.
"Maya just used it as a count to--" A moment of hesitation, and a helpless shrug to make the entire matter seem smaller. "--to remind me that I had to be ready by this year to be properly shown off, I guess."
"That sucks." Marcus muttered from his still-sitting position. Birthdays were supposed to be special, not just showcases for the model child. Another of a long list of things ruined by Siena's upbringing. A list which was starting to make Marcus bitter for his fellow roommate.
"Well, hey! A proper birthday today! It's a celebration of you, for you, and to be enjoyed primarily by you. And next time we'll try and remember not to do anything surprising. Even remotely." he gave a chuckle with the last part, which was hopefully indicator enough that there were no hard feelings.
Uwah, things got heavy real fast. Though he had really just trusted that Ernie/Marcus's information was accurate, Brent hadn't actually considered how they knew to begin with. Still...
"Eyup, let's have some wholesome fun before we start stabbing at each other!" A zippo lighter spun into his hand, the lick of flame setting the candle ablaze. "Now, just like we rehearsed, guys!"
They didn't rehearse, but a birthday song as basic as this didn't need to be, right?
Rehearsed?
'What are they going t--oh. Uh...' They were singing, and she had no idea what she was supposed to do. Smile? Expect it? She settled for trying to grin through the entire performance. It didn't entirely work, she was certain.
It was a learning experience, at least. An awkward, stumbling, learning experience that was made worse by the fact that she didn't know why, after their song, her training comrades were staring at her like they were expecting her to do something--it was not until an agonizing awkward silence had passed that someone decided to tell her to blow out the candle. Of course, that had gone badly when Ernie had innocuously asked if she'd made a wish--apparently a birthday tradition because when she had foolishly admitted that she had not, in fact, made a wish, the Aberration had Brent relight the candle. When all was said and done, Siena was fairly certain that the only thing she had done even remotely correctly was cut the cake, and that was only because that, at least, had been self-explanatory.
...at least the cake was good.
It was hard to believe that she'd managed, for the third time in a month, to hit the scarred boy directly in the face. With Marcus too far out of his wits to rewind the damage, Siena had found that profuse apology wasn't a viable option, and instead settled for fixing Marcus's very damaged nose. Without having to rely on a secondary ability to numb the pain, the brunette was able to at least deal with the worst of it with only a few pulls of the name--odd that Skonos had lingered longer that time than she ever had before. Still, the bruise had been a signal of the unfortunate event.
Grimacing, Siena focused on trying to fix that too.
"I can't believe I hit him in the face again."
Who could have seen this tragedy coming? No one, that's who.
While Siena wrapped up her healing magic deal, Brent was busy mentally absolving himself of any sort of guilt that may have spawned from watching his scarred buddy do a cartwheel after being elbowed in the face by a scrawny white chick. Yup, this was clear indication that Marcus needed to start working out his face muscles. Maybe he'd be more receptive than Emma to a workout routine? The arbiter took a bit of a corndog. Yup, that'll be his birthday present, whenever the hell that was.
"No worries," Brent said airily, "I'm sure we can all agree that this was just a misfortunate accident, 'ena. Get all the bad luck out of the way BEFORE we bring knives and swords into the mix, eh?"
"That doesn't sound too bad," Ernie chimed from a distance away. There was only about the third of the silk and streamers left to pick up, though he still hadn't thought up a way to clean up the glitter. Maybe there'd be a broom in Ground Zero... "Wait, did you say 'again'?"
"I didn't hit him with my elbow the other times..." As if that made any of it better. Siena grimaced at the memories. "Though I still feel terrible about it."
" 'Times'? With an 's'?!"
"Totes wild," Brent said, chuckling, "'ena's basically got Terminator reflexes, ya know? First one I recall was back in DC, where Marcus popped out from between clothes and got a...right jab, was it?"
"T-Terminator reflex--that's not a good thing." The girl grimaced again, scolding herself slightly when she felt an uncanny tugging sensation in the back of her mind for letting her focus drift too far. "I just...don't do well being startled."
"Yeah," Ernie sighed, "that one's on me. Sorry, Siena."
"I'll keep that in mind for future hijinks too," Brent replied, even if it was totally up in the air as to whether or not he'd continue to mine this little quirk for entertainment value, "And hey, it's not totally a bad thing. If a mugger leaps at you from the darkness, you'll be the one elbowing him in the face instead of screaming and doing nothing!"
"Uuuuurghl..." Marcus softly moaned, slowly opening his eyes. Blurriness slowly formed together to actually become the world, and Marcus squinted in confusion as his eyes attempted to focus on the closest object. It was...a person...small...female...
"Siena?" he muttered out loud, slowly sitting up. Why was he on the floor? He blinked a few times, trying to regain his bearings. Training Ground. They were in the Training Grounds. And....Ernie and Brent were here too. Things were starting to come back to him. Including what had actually occurred. After only a few moments of blankly staring into space, he'd reestablished his surroundings and actions.
"Did...you punch me in the face? ...Again?" He said, gingerly touching his nose.
"I-I'm sorry..." And she really was. "Try not to move too much, I'm almost done fixing the damage."
"Why me?"
"Um...well..." Siena winced a little as she tried to reason out the most plausible explanation. "If I had to venture a guess, I'd say probably because there was only one of you behind me to keep me from bolting?"
"Sounds about right," Brent added unhelpfully, "Between us gym bros, breaking past definitely wasn't an option." Ernie cackled heartily in the background.
"From now on, I'm wearing a goalie's mask around you." Marcus said, the last of daze finally clearing as he shot an irritated look to both Brent and Ernie. Lots of help they were. Team SAP...more like Team...something else.
Maybe the daze wasn't completely cleared.
"On the topic of hockey masks and ice skates, seguing into blades," the amethyst eyed arbiter spoke, "Let's get that cake up and out here, Ernie! Get a preview of 'ena's knife skills and all."
"Sounds good!"
Reaching into the picnic basket, Ernie pulled out his creation. The icing practice had gone well, many delicately piped flowers bordering the piece. A neatly written (and spelled) 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY' sat at the top, as well as an unlit candle that read '17' in bold red lettering.
It was only an instant, but she knew that the mask had failed. A flicker of something between hurt and betrayal that was just as effectively overwritten by confusion. She couldn't deny that the cake looked immaculately prepared. She couldn't deny that part of her wanted to feel good about the fact that they'd cared enough to put something together.
A much larger part was utterly uncertain of how the information had gotten out to begin with.
"H-how did you know it was my birthday?"
"Uhhh," Ernie frowned. That flicker of emotion hadn't been sustained enough to make him feel bad but, between this and the reaction to the friendly surprise, it certainly hadn't looked good. "The school gives out that information if you want it. And then Marcus confirmed so...I'm sorry, was that not okay?"
Before Marcus could even come up with an excuse, Ernie had thrown him under the bus. A painful and ill-advised facepalm was quickly turned into a 'my bad' face, as Marcus could nearly predict the accusatory glare he was going to get from Siena.
How? Her gaze slipped toward her roommate, still confused and uncertain, but she replaced the expression with a sheepish grin. Sort of.
"I-It's fine, I was um..." Careful. "Just trying not to make it a big deal or anything. I didn't really want to think too hard about it."
Not entirely inaccurate, if not quite the truth either.
"Right...sorry, man. If we knew birthdays weren't your thing we never would have shoved this on you."
"Oh, no, I...think I'm flattered?" Nervously, Siena tugged at the end of a stray lock of hair. "I've never really had anyone around that put this much effort into a birthday."
Was that weird? She had a sinking suspicion that she should have kept that to herself.
"Maya just used it as a count to--" A moment of hesitation, and a helpless shrug to make the entire matter seem smaller. "--to remind me that I had to be ready by this year to be properly shown off, I guess."
"That sucks." Marcus muttered from his still-sitting position. Birthdays were supposed to be special, not just showcases for the model child. Another of a long list of things ruined by Siena's upbringing. A list which was starting to make Marcus bitter for his fellow roommate.
"Well, hey! A proper birthday today! It's a celebration of you, for you, and to be enjoyed primarily by you. And next time we'll try and remember not to do anything surprising. Even remotely." he gave a chuckle with the last part, which was hopefully indicator enough that there were no hard feelings.
Uwah, things got heavy real fast. Though he had really just trusted that Ernie/Marcus's information was accurate, Brent hadn't actually considered how they knew to begin with. Still...
"Eyup, let's have some wholesome fun before we start stabbing at each other!" A zippo lighter spun into his hand, the lick of flame setting the candle ablaze. "Now, just like we rehearsed, guys!"
They didn't rehearse, but a birthday song as basic as this didn't need to be, right?
Rehearsed?
'What are they going t--oh. Uh...' They were singing, and she had no idea what she was supposed to do. Smile? Expect it? She settled for trying to grin through the entire performance. It didn't entirely work, she was certain.
It was a learning experience, at least. An awkward, stumbling, learning experience that was made worse by the fact that she didn't know why, after their song, her training comrades were staring at her like they were expecting her to do something--it was not until an agonizing awkward silence had passed that someone decided to tell her to blow out the candle. Of course, that had gone badly when Ernie had innocuously asked if she'd made a wish--apparently a birthday tradition because when she had foolishly admitted that she had not, in fact, made a wish, the Aberration had Brent relight the candle. When all was said and done, Siena was fairly certain that the only thing she had done even remotely correctly was cut the cake, and that was only because that, at least, had been self-explanatory.
...at least the cake was good.
Well, that was over...quickly? Yeah, Brent was happy enough that all the party festivities and eating was done. There were no happy birthday cards, only a set of cute dog (Tater Tot?) sweaters gifted to Siena from someone who wasn't even there, but he was happy that they could get a selfie of the birthday girl and the members of Team SAP, all awkwardly smiling in front of a half-demolished cake. Perhaps offering her the katana for cutting the cake wasn't the most brilliant idea? ...no, these were the memories that they'd keep with them when they grew gray and old. Totally worth it then.
Doing a few dynamic stretches to get his body warmed up and his blood flowing, Brent rotated his shoulders clockwise as he paced around.
"We ready to go in a bit for some fun, festive Birthday Stabbing Lessons?"
"Should you be so pumped up to stab someone?" Ernie joked, clearing the paper plates, "People might get the wrong idea."
"I wouldn't count on it being 'fun' or anything..." Understatement of the century, really. "It's not exactly as flashy as it is in popular media."
"Good thing we're not popular then."
"Speak for yourself, neeeerrrd." Marcus said with a laugh, walking over to give Ernie his plate and playfully jabbing Brent with his elbow as he did.
"Oof. Better watch out or you're gonna get shoved in a locker, Brent." Ernie grinned along.
"You're all incorrigible." Siena gave a mock-sigh before drawing her phone, tapping the screen to life, glancing through her sources, flicking through the list until she came upon the ones she'd prepared specifically for their training session. "All jokes aside, we should get started if we want to get much practice in."
Speaking of which...
"Other than Brent's...katana, I guess our equipment is limited to what I have...?"
"I brought band-aids!" Marcus said, unhelpfully as always.
"Well," Brent replied whilst lovingly carressing his probably-authentic katana, "We do have those knives."
"I still can't believe you bought that thing," Ernie chuckled. He wasn't sure why Siena made 'encourageable' sound like a bad thing so he moved past it, " 'Those'? Did how many did you bring, Siena?"
"A few, but they're all a bit on the older side." Older meaning 'outdated', but if it had a sharp edge, it would do. With a faint motion toward the sole bag she'd arrived with, the brunette didn't seem to be bothered by her own possession of legitimate weaponry. "You're free to take whichever ones you want. It's not like Gerwulf was using them when I left."
"Ladies first," Brent gestured towards Marcus.
"Yeah? Well, age before beaut- wait. Dammit." Marcus started, cutting himself off abruptly when he realized that phrase didn't work in his favor either. "I'll go. Not because you told me to." he said, glaring at Brent as he pulled a random knife out of Siena's bag. Wasn't like there'd be much difference between them; a knife was a knife, after all.
Ernie moved to pick one out too, though he put more consideration into it and took a weapon that didn't look as worn. As he did, he shot Marcus a glance that read something along the lines of 'Dude, why does your roommate have an entire bag of knives?'. It didn't seem like a safe question to ask out loud, especially when said owner of the bag of knives was right in front of them.
Brent grabbed one as well. No real difference, really, and if he ACTUALLY had to tryhard, these knives were one overclock away from becoming quality combat blades anyways.
Something like butterflies landed in the pit of her stomach. Ah, somehow it felt odd, being the one teaching how to hold a knife. She pocketed her phone, flashed an apologetic smile, and was in action.
Ths was how she'd first learned it too, wasn't it?
It wasn't in line with the usual, hesitant movements the girl took. Each step served a purpose in closing a short distance toward Ernie, each mechanical motion engrained so deep into memory that it was more reflex than thought as she grabbed for clothing with her off-hand--Guess off-hand's misleading for you--her free hand moving in equal measure for what would have been a stabbing motion had there been an actual weapon in her hand.
Ernie, whose attention had unwisely been on the scuffs of the borrowed sheath instead of the stabbing instructor, let out a small yelp as he was dragged to Siena. Fuck, he hadn't even seen her move! His gaze moved warily to where the knife would have been.
Her movements stopped short, of course. Not as precise as Gerwulf's would have been, her hand several inches away rather than a hair's breadth. The Arbiter released her grip while stepping back, expression still apologetic.
"Case in point on the popular media thing. Nobody's going to announce they're coming at you with a knife for a challenge." It had been significantly less pleasant when she'd first learned that lesson, and Maya had given Gerwulf an irate seminar about the entire ordeal. Siena wasn't certain whether that was a memory she enjoyed. "Most of the time, if it comes down to it, you won't have time to draw your weapon."
Ernie took a quick step back as soon as he was released, taking a nervous breath. "Alrighty. Lesson definitely learned."
"Glad you're the guinea pig, Erns!" Marcus said, chuckling from what he believed was a safe distance away.
"Zero to a hundred real fast, huh?" Brent remarked, still becoming accustomed to the weight of the knife itself. "So is the plan here that...technique doesn't matter if they get the jump on you?"
"It's not a plan, just a point. Knives aren't exactly a tool for prolonging a fight," Siena noted while glancing at the knife in Brent's hand. "They're for ending a fight, and the fact we have superpowers won't mean much if someone slits our throats before we can react."
That sounded a little too serious, so she gave a helpless shrug, tried to bring herself a step away from Gerwulf.
"At least, as far as the four of us go. Entirely different story for the durable ones."
Ernie frowned. slightly bummed that he wasn't included in what Siena considered the 'durable ones'. Guess he still wasn't a Callan or Kusari or Sander.
"Gotta hit 'em hard and fast, or get hit yourself," he nodded, saying out loud to absorb it properly. It was pretty much in line with Devon's philosophies and had worked well while it lasted.
Marcus hummed thoughtfully. 'Hard and fast' was pretty much specifically what his power was all about, but being in a position where he actually had to fight wasn't really his forte, despite how often it seemed to be occurring. Perfect for either evacuating people quickly...or for lethal hit-and-run tactics. Something to think about, for sure.
"Hm...so with that line of thought...what are you going to teach us, 'ena? We gonna go through the boot camp of hell to increase our awareness of our surroundings to thwart assassins?"
"Hardly. I'm going to show you how to use a knife." That was what they'd agreed on, wasn't it? She shifted her weight slightly out of nerves moreso than anything else. "That said, I was only taught how to use a knife on...um..." The brunette grimaced. "Things that work like people. So don't...don't count on the same theories working on things that are significantly less human-looking."
But they'd faced off against subnaturals more often than abnormal creations at that point, and the idea of being targeted was still fresh enough in her head. She kept that to herself.
"Anyways, for now we can focus on where you should aim your knife and...I guess how to avoid getting stabbed if someone does get the jump on you." It occurred to the brunette that she probably wasn't being very encouraging for a first lesson. Again, she tried to correct herself. "Though if it's any consolation, you'll all probably catch on how not to get stabbed a lot faster than I did?"
Ernie raised his hand as if it were an actual classroom, again looking over a vast part of Siena's words.
What the fuck does learning 'how not to get stabbed' mean?!
"For the aiming thing, are we going for lethal and...non-lethal?" He reined his confusion in for now. "Like, are we gonna learn how to just disable people with sharp stuff?"
"Non-lethal, primarily. I don't really think I like the idea of teaching you guys how to actually kill a person."
Marcus remained very quiet for that statement, finding extreme interest in the design on the knife sheath instead. Ernie couldn't help but have his gaze flicker in the scarred Arbiter's direction but otherwise responded with a simple, "Cool, thanks."
"Would imagine that it'd be pretty simple how to move onto killing someone after disarming them anyways," Brent shrugged, either not noticing or not caring about Marcus's sudden silence. "But cool, we gonna be pairing off? Or are we going to be imagining peeps for this exercise?"
"Let's work on demonstrations before we get to stabbing each other."
Doing a few dynamic stretches to get his body warmed up and his blood flowing, Brent rotated his shoulders clockwise as he paced around.
"We ready to go in a bit for some fun, festive Birthday Stabbing Lessons?"
"Should you be so pumped up to stab someone?" Ernie joked, clearing the paper plates, "People might get the wrong idea."
"I wouldn't count on it being 'fun' or anything..." Understatement of the century, really. "It's not exactly as flashy as it is in popular media."
"Good thing we're not popular then."
"Speak for yourself, neeeerrrd." Marcus said with a laugh, walking over to give Ernie his plate and playfully jabbing Brent with his elbow as he did.
"Oof. Better watch out or you're gonna get shoved in a locker, Brent." Ernie grinned along.
"You're all incorrigible." Siena gave a mock-sigh before drawing her phone, tapping the screen to life, glancing through her sources, flicking through the list until she came upon the ones she'd prepared specifically for their training session. "All jokes aside, we should get started if we want to get much practice in."
Speaking of which...
"Other than Brent's...katana, I guess our equipment is limited to what I have...?"
"I brought band-aids!" Marcus said, unhelpfully as always.
"Well," Brent replied whilst lovingly carressing his probably-authentic katana, "We do have those knives."
"I still can't believe you bought that thing," Ernie chuckled. He wasn't sure why Siena made 'encourageable' sound like a bad thing so he moved past it, " 'Those'? Did how many did you bring, Siena?"
"A few, but they're all a bit on the older side." Older meaning 'outdated', but if it had a sharp edge, it would do. With a faint motion toward the sole bag she'd arrived with, the brunette didn't seem to be bothered by her own possession of legitimate weaponry. "You're free to take whichever ones you want. It's not like Gerwulf was using them when I left."
"Ladies first," Brent gestured towards Marcus.
"Yeah? Well, age before beaut- wait. Dammit." Marcus started, cutting himself off abruptly when he realized that phrase didn't work in his favor either. "I'll go. Not because you told me to." he said, glaring at Brent as he pulled a random knife out of Siena's bag. Wasn't like there'd be much difference between them; a knife was a knife, after all.
Ernie moved to pick one out too, though he put more consideration into it and took a weapon that didn't look as worn. As he did, he shot Marcus a glance that read something along the lines of 'Dude, why does your roommate have an entire bag of knives?'. It didn't seem like a safe question to ask out loud, especially when said owner of the bag of knives was right in front of them.
Brent grabbed one as well. No real difference, really, and if he ACTUALLY had to tryhard, these knives were one overclock away from becoming quality combat blades anyways.
Something like butterflies landed in the pit of her stomach. Ah, somehow it felt odd, being the one teaching how to hold a knife. She pocketed her phone, flashed an apologetic smile, and was in action.
Ths was how she'd first learned it too, wasn't it?
It wasn't in line with the usual, hesitant movements the girl took. Each step served a purpose in closing a short distance toward Ernie, each mechanical motion engrained so deep into memory that it was more reflex than thought as she grabbed for clothing with her off-hand--Guess off-hand's misleading for you--her free hand moving in equal measure for what would have been a stabbing motion had there been an actual weapon in her hand.
Ernie, whose attention had unwisely been on the scuffs of the borrowed sheath instead of the stabbing instructor, let out a small yelp as he was dragged to Siena. Fuck, he hadn't even seen her move! His gaze moved warily to where the knife would have been.
Her movements stopped short, of course. Not as precise as Gerwulf's would have been, her hand several inches away rather than a hair's breadth. The Arbiter released her grip while stepping back, expression still apologetic.
"Case in point on the popular media thing. Nobody's going to announce they're coming at you with a knife for a challenge." It had been significantly less pleasant when she'd first learned that lesson, and Maya had given Gerwulf an irate seminar about the entire ordeal. Siena wasn't certain whether that was a memory she enjoyed. "Most of the time, if it comes down to it, you won't have time to draw your weapon."
Ernie took a quick step back as soon as he was released, taking a nervous breath. "Alrighty. Lesson definitely learned."
"Glad you're the guinea pig, Erns!" Marcus said, chuckling from what he believed was a safe distance away.
"Zero to a hundred real fast, huh?" Brent remarked, still becoming accustomed to the weight of the knife itself. "So is the plan here that...technique doesn't matter if they get the jump on you?"
"It's not a plan, just a point. Knives aren't exactly a tool for prolonging a fight," Siena noted while glancing at the knife in Brent's hand. "They're for ending a fight, and the fact we have superpowers won't mean much if someone slits our throats before we can react."
That sounded a little too serious, so she gave a helpless shrug, tried to bring herself a step away from Gerwulf.
"At least, as far as the four of us go. Entirely different story for the durable ones."
Ernie frowned. slightly bummed that he wasn't included in what Siena considered the 'durable ones'. Guess he still wasn't a Callan or Kusari or Sander.
"Gotta hit 'em hard and fast, or get hit yourself," he nodded, saying out loud to absorb it properly. It was pretty much in line with Devon's philosophies and had worked well while it lasted.
Marcus hummed thoughtfully. 'Hard and fast' was pretty much specifically what his power was all about, but being in a position where he actually had to fight wasn't really his forte, despite how often it seemed to be occurring. Perfect for either evacuating people quickly...or for lethal hit-and-run tactics. Something to think about, for sure.
"Hm...so with that line of thought...what are you going to teach us, 'ena? We gonna go through the boot camp of hell to increase our awareness of our surroundings to thwart assassins?"
"Hardly. I'm going to show you how to use a knife." That was what they'd agreed on, wasn't it? She shifted her weight slightly out of nerves moreso than anything else. "That said, I was only taught how to use a knife on...um..." The brunette grimaced. "Things that work like people. So don't...don't count on the same theories working on things that are significantly less human-looking."
But they'd faced off against subnaturals more often than abnormal creations at that point, and the idea of being targeted was still fresh enough in her head. She kept that to herself.
"Anyways, for now we can focus on where you should aim your knife and...I guess how to avoid getting stabbed if someone does get the jump on you." It occurred to the brunette that she probably wasn't being very encouraging for a first lesson. Again, she tried to correct herself. "Though if it's any consolation, you'll all probably catch on how not to get stabbed a lot faster than I did?"
Ernie raised his hand as if it were an actual classroom, again looking over a vast part of Siena's words.
What the fuck does learning 'how not to get stabbed' mean?!
"For the aiming thing, are we going for lethal and...non-lethal?" He reined his confusion in for now. "Like, are we gonna learn how to just disable people with sharp stuff?"
"Non-lethal, primarily. I don't really think I like the idea of teaching you guys how to actually kill a person."
Marcus remained very quiet for that statement, finding extreme interest in the design on the knife sheath instead. Ernie couldn't help but have his gaze flicker in the scarred Arbiter's direction but otherwise responded with a simple, "Cool, thanks."
"Would imagine that it'd be pretty simple how to move onto killing someone after disarming them anyways," Brent shrugged, either not noticing or not caring about Marcus's sudden silence. "But cool, we gonna be pairing off? Or are we going to be imagining peeps for this exercise?"
"Let's work on demonstrations before we get to stabbing each other."
Siena had been mostly right. Mostly. Her trio of students did pick up not getting stabbed faster than she had, though she wasn't entirely certain whether that was a matter of their ability or her lack of it. The girl had decided that it wasn't worth the anxiety to keep thinking on it, and certainly not worth the potential injury that a distracted mind would result in. Demonstrations had been easy enough with the use of an illusionist's abilities, particularly when demonstrating how to actually stab an opponent.
Allowing herself to be cut by an illusory knife for the sake of "teaching" was also much less painful than getting hit by a solid one, sheathed or otherwise.
It was unfortunate, of course, that illusions weren't ideal for practice with actual impact, and her ability to solidify them was...not nearly enough for their purposes, but that was where the benefit of having partners came from...right? They were all about the same level, right?
"Cool. Cool, cool," Ernie said mostly to himself as he faced his training partner. He hadn't thought this part of the session through. Obviously they'd have to face off together at some point but...man, he really didn't want to straight up shank any of them. Luckily Siena had said it was okay to leave the sheaths on. He observed the stance she'd used and imitated it well.
"So do we count down from three then jump each other?" he asked his partner and official instructor.
"We'll start slow. I'll try to attack, and you counter. Remember, a few scrapes with the sheath when you counter is fine--nobody really ever gets out of an encounter with a knife without a few cuts." Even if one of the two had virtually no training with a knife. "No countdowns though--kind of counterintuitive to lesson one if we do that."
Reminding herself to start at a reasonable pace, Siena gave herself a moment before starting her movements once more. Your typical knife attack will have one hand trying to immobilize so the knife has easier access. She imitated the motions she remembered in her head, one hand prepared to immobilize Ernie's knife hand, the other keeping the sheathed blade brandished without being too overt. Not as neat as her instructor, but it would pass.
"Yeah, I think I'll take a pass on the cuts," Ernie summoned his glow, "But--yah!"
Luckily, he'd been paying attention to Siena this time. He saw the knife whip towards him, as well as the free hand. Right, don't let yourself get pinned. But heck, he only had one knife. What was he supposed to do with that free hand while he was trying not to get snatched?
No more thinking time. It was a sloppy action. The Aberration's knife swiped at Siena's empty hand while the other hand blindly aimed to grab the knife hand by the wrist.
Not quite what she'd expected.
The sheathed knife slid across Siena's palm, and the girl mentally commanded it to flinch back like it would have, had the blade been brandished to bite into her skin. Her attention, however, was on her knife, watching as Ernie seemed to forget, for a brief moment, that it wasn't entirely wise to try and stop a hand with a knife in it at a small target. Without breaking her rhythm, Siena simply changed her trajectory, "injured" hand back in play, grasping for the now-exposed elbow to gain control over the opposing weapon, her own weapon hand suddenly jerking out of its original pathway, now aimed for a higher target.
Slashing at the empty hand had done nothing but expose the arm wielding the knife. Butts. That was his own fault for going for such a half-assed approach. This time Ernie concentrated on the groping hand. Seeing the knife go high, he went low, trying to grab at the free hand to yank her off balance and strike her in the torso then.
Better.
Siena could see the movements, where they would lead, and knew she had a counter for them filed away in the back of her head.
She didn't do more than adjust her steps to barely keep her from staggering into the strike entirely, muscles tensed to both brace and maintain her position.
"Little slow on the start, but not bad on the follow up." She glanced down at the point of impact. "Though you should aim lower if you can. No ribs to hit down here."
'Little slow' seemed like an understatement but Ernie was pleased with the comments nonetheless. Easiest way to learn was from your mistakes.
"Okay, thank you!" Ernie chimed and got back into position, "Go again?"
"Alright, I'm going to go a little faster this time." The brunette quickly calculated her next move. "I guess we should work out dealing with powers after you get the hang of this."
Ernie's face darkened as he recalled the Amigos. "Yeah, that sounds really important."
"Like you wouldn't believe." Siena muttered under her breath. Readjusting her stance, the brunette calculated another plan of attack. "Hope you don't mind if I check on the other two for a second after this."
And without so much as taking a breath, the girl lunged again.
Allowing herself to be cut by an illusory knife for the sake of "teaching" was also much less painful than getting hit by a solid one, sheathed or otherwise.
It was unfortunate, of course, that illusions weren't ideal for practice with actual impact, and her ability to solidify them was...not nearly enough for their purposes, but that was where the benefit of having partners came from...right? They were all about the same level, right?
"Cool. Cool, cool," Ernie said mostly to himself as he faced his training partner. He hadn't thought this part of the session through. Obviously they'd have to face off together at some point but...man, he really didn't want to straight up shank any of them. Luckily Siena had said it was okay to leave the sheaths on. He observed the stance she'd used and imitated it well.
"So do we count down from three then jump each other?" he asked his partner and official instructor.
"We'll start slow. I'll try to attack, and you counter. Remember, a few scrapes with the sheath when you counter is fine--nobody really ever gets out of an encounter with a knife without a few cuts." Even if one of the two had virtually no training with a knife. "No countdowns though--kind of counterintuitive to lesson one if we do that."
Reminding herself to start at a reasonable pace, Siena gave herself a moment before starting her movements once more. Your typical knife attack will have one hand trying to immobilize so the knife has easier access. She imitated the motions she remembered in her head, one hand prepared to immobilize Ernie's knife hand, the other keeping the sheathed blade brandished without being too overt. Not as neat as her instructor, but it would pass.
"Yeah, I think I'll take a pass on the cuts," Ernie summoned his glow, "But--yah!"
Luckily, he'd been paying attention to Siena this time. He saw the knife whip towards him, as well as the free hand. Right, don't let yourself get pinned. But heck, he only had one knife. What was he supposed to do with that free hand while he was trying not to get snatched?
No more thinking time. It was a sloppy action. The Aberration's knife swiped at Siena's empty hand while the other hand blindly aimed to grab the knife hand by the wrist.
Not quite what she'd expected.
The sheathed knife slid across Siena's palm, and the girl mentally commanded it to flinch back like it would have, had the blade been brandished to bite into her skin. Her attention, however, was on her knife, watching as Ernie seemed to forget, for a brief moment, that it wasn't entirely wise to try and stop a hand with a knife in it at a small target. Without breaking her rhythm, Siena simply changed her trajectory, "injured" hand back in play, grasping for the now-exposed elbow to gain control over the opposing weapon, her own weapon hand suddenly jerking out of its original pathway, now aimed for a higher target.
Slashing at the empty hand had done nothing but expose the arm wielding the knife. Butts. That was his own fault for going for such a half-assed approach. This time Ernie concentrated on the groping hand. Seeing the knife go high, he went low, trying to grab at the free hand to yank her off balance and strike her in the torso then.
Better.
Siena could see the movements, where they would lead, and knew she had a counter for them filed away in the back of her head.
She didn't do more than adjust her steps to barely keep her from staggering into the strike entirely, muscles tensed to both brace and maintain her position.
"Little slow on the start, but not bad on the follow up." She glanced down at the point of impact. "Though you should aim lower if you can. No ribs to hit down here."
'Little slow' seemed like an understatement but Ernie was pleased with the comments nonetheless. Easiest way to learn was from your mistakes.
"Okay, thank you!" Ernie chimed and got back into position, "Go again?"
"Alright, I'm going to go a little faster this time." The brunette quickly calculated her next move. "I guess we should work out dealing with powers after you get the hang of this."
Ernie's face darkened as he recalled the Amigos. "Yeah, that sounds really important."
"Like you wouldn't believe." Siena muttered under her breath. Readjusting her stance, the brunette calculated another plan of attack. "Hope you don't mind if I check on the other two for a second after this."
And without so much as taking a breath, the girl lunged again.
After unsheathing the knife, the first thing Brent did was close his fist over the bladed edge, first gently, and then firmly.
No cut. Cool. Released.
"Ready to go?" he asked, amethyst eyes turning to Emma's boyfriend, "Or should we do some dynamic stretches first?"
Marcus was slightly nervous to be paired up with Brent. From what he'd seen so far, he wasn't exactly sure if Brent had a limit on anything he did. Case in point, the subtle sound of a knife sheath rubbing against metal. A sound that immediately caused Marcus to whip his attention around to his 'partner'.
"Wh-? Are you sure that's a good idea?" Marcus started, significantly more nervous now that Brent was wielding an unsheathed knife.
"Eh?" Amethyst eyes flickered over to Siena manhandling Ernie, both of their blades sheathed. Hm... "Right, sure. Of course."
Brent made a show of sheathing the knife again. "Thought it'd make more sense to train with real edges, yah know? Fight the fear."
"I-I mean..." What was he doing? There was absolutely no reason to try and save face around Brent; even less if he was trying to seem like he wasn't up to the challenge. Why on Earth was he still talking then?
"I'm just worried about you, man. I can rewind if you shank me...I just don't want you to bleed out if something goes horribly wrong."
"Oh, thanks man," the arbiter replied airily, "I guess, out of concern for me, you can keep your blade sheathed, while out of concern for you, I can unsheath the knife?"
"That seems like the opposite of 'concern'." Marcus said, unsure whether he should take that as a joke or not.
"Concern for your growth as a world class knife fighter?"
"You know what? Let's stick with sheathed. Maybe try for 'completely intact' knife fighter first, work our way up to 'world class' some other day."
"Sure, s-"
Brent dropped low, legs coiling before bursting forward. The distance wasn't crossed in any god-like speed, but the footwork from kickboxing still helped, his arms naturally adopting a position where his chest and face were protected. Without hestitation, now that both knives were sheathed and 'harmless', he swung out once with his knifehand at Marcus, a horizontal slice to the chest.
Baby steps, after all.
Brent's attempt to surprise Marcus worked flawlessly, as the scarred arbiter nearly didn't register Brent's approach until he was almost on top of him. Although his reflexes were only average, his survival instict was a prime motivator in situations like these. He took an awkward half-jump backwards, bending forward to try and pull his torso-area out of harm's way.
Backwards kept it simple. First swipe evaded, Brent continued his forward momentum, this time readjusting to a thrust aimed dead center.
With Marcus still on the defensive, he attempted to roll his body to the left, bringing his left arm across to try and deflect Brent's arm to the best of his ability. Were he more strategically oriented, this may have been a good opportunity for a counter-stab. Alas, he was not, still in the midst of just trying his hardest not to get shanked.
Deflection. Left side. Brent didn't force his arm to continue the course, instead flipping the knife into ice pick grip, a sideways thrust to Marcus's side while his free hand reached out for the scarred boy's face.
He had read somewhere that people instinctively prioritized their face over other parts of their body. Time to test.
Things were starting to get dicey for Marcus, as all he could was try and keep up. He brought his right hand up, attempting to block or otherwise deflect Brent's attack at the wrist, leading with his sheathed blade. It was clumsy and off center though, as he'd also attempted to bring his left elbow up to stop whatever Brent was about to try and do to his face, more out of sudden panic than anything else.
Damn, that actually wasn't bad. Brent had hoped that a hand in his face would make the scarred arbiter forget about the knife rushing for his ribs, but both were dealt with. Props to the dude for that. But he had forgotten to move at that point, and as the palm met the elbow, Brent set his right foot down onto Marcus's, braced his core, and, hand grasping onto that elbow that was so close to Marcus's face, pushed.
Christ, Brent was really going all out here. Marcus let out a small, pained breath as Brent's foot stomped down on his own. He felt the shift in weight, felt the intent at least. There was probably no way he could win a shoving contest against the muscular build of his opponent, so there was really no point in trying to shove back. Instead, Marcus brought his left arm further across, trying to latch onto whatever he could grab of Brent; his intent on grabbing the same wrist he'd just blocked.
As Marcus's hand wrapped around Brent's free hand, the well built arbiter clenched his fist in anticipation. They were toppling over, combined weight bringing each other down, but when it came down to it, he'd be the one on the top. No worry there then. What he needed was...
In that moment, Brent sucked in a breath and shouted as loudly and sharply as he could, splaying open his fingers and twisting his wrist out of Marcus's grasp. A shout to grab attention, a wild motion to present a threat, and then his right hand, wielding the knife, was in motion, pressing towards his sparring partner's stomach.
"GAH!" Marcus shouted in surprise. Brent was yelling and flailing; shit, he hadn't accidentally caught him with something? His knife was still sheathed, right? Then why was-?
And then the thick sheath pressed itself into Marcus's flabby ;-;stomach.
"There we go," the amethyst eyed youth said, taking a step back. "Felt like we barely did any actual knife fighting tho, ye?"
The sensation of something hard pressing against his body told Marcus that the sparring had ended. He took a few moments to regain himself, huffing slightly at the excurision; it had happened very quickly, pretty much exactly as Siena had demonstrated previously. In his head, he made a note to never get into a knife fight with Brent, the cheating bastard.
"Maybe to you it did. I was fighting for my life there!" Marcus said, chuckling slightly.
"Running for your life, maybe," Brent grinned, slapping him on the back. "But hey, you managed to deal with some pretty tricky stuff, dude. Ever take martial arts?"
Marcus grinned. "I'd barely ever been in a fight up until we got drafted into USARILN. Guess it's just au natural." He attempted to look smug as he said this and nonchalantly twirled the knife in his hand, but it was stymied slightly by him immediately dropping and quickly recovering it.
"Smooth as a true master of the blade," he grinned, "Better work on your footwork though. Siena's probably got tips for you on that, but generally, most people can move faster forward than backwards. So don't backpedal too much or you'll just get run over."
"You haven't seen me moving backwards that much, have you? Believe me, I am a master at backpedaling." Marcus said, chuckling.
"Both blademaster and backpedal master?" Brent took a couple more steps back, before readying himself once more. "Alright, let's see if your masteries get you anywhere in round two!"
No cut. Cool. Released.
"Ready to go?" he asked, amethyst eyes turning to Emma's boyfriend, "Or should we do some dynamic stretches first?"
Marcus was slightly nervous to be paired up with Brent. From what he'd seen so far, he wasn't exactly sure if Brent had a limit on anything he did. Case in point, the subtle sound of a knife sheath rubbing against metal. A sound that immediately caused Marcus to whip his attention around to his 'partner'.
"Wh-? Are you sure that's a good idea?" Marcus started, significantly more nervous now that Brent was wielding an unsheathed knife.
"Eh?" Amethyst eyes flickered over to Siena manhandling Ernie, both of their blades sheathed. Hm... "Right, sure. Of course."
Brent made a show of sheathing the knife again. "Thought it'd make more sense to train with real edges, yah know? Fight the fear."
"I-I mean..." What was he doing? There was absolutely no reason to try and save face around Brent; even less if he was trying to seem like he wasn't up to the challenge. Why on Earth was he still talking then?
"I'm just worried about you, man. I can rewind if you shank me...I just don't want you to bleed out if something goes horribly wrong."
"Oh, thanks man," the arbiter replied airily, "I guess, out of concern for me, you can keep your blade sheathed, while out of concern for you, I can unsheath the knife?"
"That seems like the opposite of 'concern'." Marcus said, unsure whether he should take that as a joke or not.
"Concern for your growth as a world class knife fighter?"
"You know what? Let's stick with sheathed. Maybe try for 'completely intact' knife fighter first, work our way up to 'world class' some other day."
"Sure, s-"
Brent dropped low, legs coiling before bursting forward. The distance wasn't crossed in any god-like speed, but the footwork from kickboxing still helped, his arms naturally adopting a position where his chest and face were protected. Without hestitation, now that both knives were sheathed and 'harmless', he swung out once with his knifehand at Marcus, a horizontal slice to the chest.
Baby steps, after all.
Brent's attempt to surprise Marcus worked flawlessly, as the scarred arbiter nearly didn't register Brent's approach until he was almost on top of him. Although his reflexes were only average, his survival instict was a prime motivator in situations like these. He took an awkward half-jump backwards, bending forward to try and pull his torso-area out of harm's way.
Backwards kept it simple. First swipe evaded, Brent continued his forward momentum, this time readjusting to a thrust aimed dead center.
With Marcus still on the defensive, he attempted to roll his body to the left, bringing his left arm across to try and deflect Brent's arm to the best of his ability. Were he more strategically oriented, this may have been a good opportunity for a counter-stab. Alas, he was not, still in the midst of just trying his hardest not to get shanked.
Deflection. Left side. Brent didn't force his arm to continue the course, instead flipping the knife into ice pick grip, a sideways thrust to Marcus's side while his free hand reached out for the scarred boy's face.
He had read somewhere that people instinctively prioritized their face over other parts of their body. Time to test.
Things were starting to get dicey for Marcus, as all he could was try and keep up. He brought his right hand up, attempting to block or otherwise deflect Brent's attack at the wrist, leading with his sheathed blade. It was clumsy and off center though, as he'd also attempted to bring his left elbow up to stop whatever Brent was about to try and do to his face, more out of sudden panic than anything else.
Damn, that actually wasn't bad. Brent had hoped that a hand in his face would make the scarred arbiter forget about the knife rushing for his ribs, but both were dealt with. Props to the dude for that. But he had forgotten to move at that point, and as the palm met the elbow, Brent set his right foot down onto Marcus's, braced his core, and, hand grasping onto that elbow that was so close to Marcus's face, pushed.
Christ, Brent was really going all out here. Marcus let out a small, pained breath as Brent's foot stomped down on his own. He felt the shift in weight, felt the intent at least. There was probably no way he could win a shoving contest against the muscular build of his opponent, so there was really no point in trying to shove back. Instead, Marcus brought his left arm further across, trying to latch onto whatever he could grab of Brent; his intent on grabbing the same wrist he'd just blocked.
As Marcus's hand wrapped around Brent's free hand, the well built arbiter clenched his fist in anticipation. They were toppling over, combined weight bringing each other down, but when it came down to it, he'd be the one on the top. No worry there then. What he needed was...
In that moment, Brent sucked in a breath and shouted as loudly and sharply as he could, splaying open his fingers and twisting his wrist out of Marcus's grasp. A shout to grab attention, a wild motion to present a threat, and then his right hand, wielding the knife, was in motion, pressing towards his sparring partner's stomach.
"GAH!" Marcus shouted in surprise. Brent was yelling and flailing; shit, he hadn't accidentally caught him with something? His knife was still sheathed, right? Then why was-?
And then the thick sheath pressed itself into Marcus's flabby ;-;stomach.
"There we go," the amethyst eyed youth said, taking a step back. "Felt like we barely did any actual knife fighting tho, ye?"
The sensation of something hard pressing against his body told Marcus that the sparring had ended. He took a few moments to regain himself, huffing slightly at the excurision; it had happened very quickly, pretty much exactly as Siena had demonstrated previously. In his head, he made a note to never get into a knife fight with Brent, the cheating bastard.
"Maybe to you it did. I was fighting for my life there!" Marcus said, chuckling slightly.
"Running for your life, maybe," Brent grinned, slapping him on the back. "But hey, you managed to deal with some pretty tricky stuff, dude. Ever take martial arts?"
Marcus grinned. "I'd barely ever been in a fight up until we got drafted into USARILN. Guess it's just au natural." He attempted to look smug as he said this and nonchalantly twirled the knife in his hand, but it was stymied slightly by him immediately dropping and quickly recovering it.
"Smooth as a true master of the blade," he grinned, "Better work on your footwork though. Siena's probably got tips for you on that, but generally, most people can move faster forward than backwards. So don't backpedal too much or you'll just get run over."
"You haven't seen me moving backwards that much, have you? Believe me, I am a master at backpedaling." Marcus said, chuckling.
"Both blademaster and backpedal master?" Brent took a couple more steps back, before readying himself once more. "Alright, let's see if your masteries get you anywhere in round two!"
It had been a moderately successful training session, Siena had to admit. It was nowhere near a level that she would have felt comfortable sending the trio into a fight with, but they'd at least managed to understand how to incapcitate a regular human and try to account for the potential of powers. Of course, the concept had largely been the same--attack before a target could realize what was happening if possible. If not, observe for possible limitations. If even that failed, then a knife wasn't going to make any difference in the end. She'd run a few drills, utilizing weaker abilities in her arsenal to act as a "random" subnatural, and it had gone...relatively well. As expected, there had been a few issues, but it was to be expected. Ernie, for one, took a little longer to grasp new concepts--the easiest to solve with a little extra time and attention. With enough practice, Siena was certain that the Aberration would be able to hold his own.
It was almost unfortunate that Ernie was the only one with an easy "fix" available.
Marcus's tendency to panic was difficult to work with, though Siena couldn't help but feel a slight sense of relief at that. She'd been surprised as it was that her roommate had stuck around for the training portion of the ordeal...but it was at least some minor comfort that the blonde didn't make hurting and killing a priority. Siena wasn't entirely certain she wanted to change that.
Then, of course, there had been Brent. Aggressive, which wasn't unexpected, but outside of a few minor advantages it maintained in a controlled situation...
Broken in the storm again. He could have died.
It wasn't ideal.
But Siena had little choice but to file her observations away so she could focus on first-aid lessons, which had been a weight off her shoulders. It was easier for her not to be the instructor, always easier to listen to them than anything else. Unfortunately, keeping the thoughts comparmentalized was significantly less simple when they had settled into the cafeteria after their training had concluded. Once again, the brunette had taken to pushing her meal around on her plate moreso than actually eating it, mind too preoccupied with "next times" and "what ifs" to remember she needed to actually eat her food.
Meanwhile, Ernie had the contents of his first aid kit splayed out over the table, murmuring to himself as he counted through it all. Normally he'd be annoyed if he knew most of his supplies were going to be wasted on fake Ground Zero people but today was an important demonstration. Hopefully future missions would be more successful and less deadly because of sessions like these. He'd been worried about teaching a full class of Arbiters, the potential squeamishness that would have come from those who didn't benefit from others' suffering, but they'd actually managed to push through it and learn a lot!
"Man, I didn't think we'd go through so much of it today," he remarked, "I'm gonna have to run into town to stock up tomorrow."
"I didn't realize you were going to go through it at all. Figured it would be more 'theoretical' than you made it." Marcus said, attempting to hide his grimace with a fake laugh. Some of the things Ernie had done at Ground Zero didn't exactly sit with him that well. Even if they were fake people, everything that happened to them was real. The screaming, the crying, the fear...especially the sound...euuugh. Bones crunching was not a noise he was comfortable with, and screaming...
...well, he didn't care for the screaming either.
Needless to say, he hadn't touched much of his plate while they'd been at the cafeteria.
While Marcus went green and Ernie worried about stocking up his kit, Brent mumbled to himself, eyes out of focus as he saw a different scene before him. In his mind, the arbiter continued to replay the surprisingly bountiful amount of knowledge Ernie had disseminated towards the three, visualizing each gruesome injury and the makeshift solutions for them all. Cuts, breaks, burns, bullets. Hopefully the knowledge would help. Hopefully it'd be more useful than applying knife fighting techniques against a monster. He palmed the bullets he kept in his pockets, cool to the touch, as his gaze turned skywards. No whumpf whumpf, no dragon roars, but still...
"Medical aid is a physical skill," Brent said with a shrug, "Not gonna learn if you don't apply it practically."
Well, as someone who regularly went to Ground Zero for his own training, it wasn't like he cared all that much for those thoughtless drones.
"Most training works better with application over theory," Siena claimed absentmindedly, mind still turning over what they'd gone over. She'd done her best, of course, to mitigate and remove pain where she could, but it wasn't an ability she could hold infinitely. Besides which, they wouldn't always be in a situation where tearing the sensation away was an option. Her fork scraped lightly against the surface of her plate, a dim thought in the back of her head. Would the people of Ground Zero count? She imagined crimson welling up on their skin, light that rose like wisps of smoke, then imagined--ah, no. Not then. "Better to practice on people that will get better regardless of the end result than on each other though. I would hate to have my first practical on one of you."
Ernie nodded vigorously, finally snapping the clasps of the kit shut to start on his dinner. "Yeah, what those guys said. It won't be any prettier in a real fight, though maybe throwing the newbie soldiers into the deep end was a mean thing to do..." Not that he was very sorry for it. It was only Marcus after all. Siena and Brent had dealt with it a lot better.
"Yeah...no...obviously." Marcus said, shrugging his shoulders. "It just makes me glad that we've usually got Lily or Christmas around. The wonders of modern medicine, you know?" he added, trying to play it off. It was certainly a beneficial lesson to learn, but that didn't really make him more comfortable in the aftermath.
"Pretty awk that we have to cut open Christmas for him to work his magic though," Brent replied, "Or have Lily open up her own body during transfers. If only Bene-bro could be our main healer. Not like they don't already have free invincibility in the form of Sparrow."
Ernie swallowed a forkful of pasta, his expression more stern than usual.
"Lily's off the table for easy heals, since it takes too long to convince her to use Kusari. Tulpas are off limits now too. Christmas can't be trusted to navigate the battlefield and his magical tell is too easy to find. Makes him easy to snatch."
'Stern' might have been an understatement. 'Calculating', perhaps. Disdainful.
"All the more important that we have more people who can 'heal' in the future. There's a good chance that the main two won't always get to our fighters in time to get them back in fighting shape, or even keep them conscious. Take how long it took for us to set up Lily on the island, for example."
Another forkful. Dark, hazel eyes trained on the table.
"But Wisford might be the better example here. That was a fucking shitshow."
"Shitshow, sure, but it was also our first proper operation. Did well until gargoyle girl came out from the van and fucked everything up."
A pause, linger regret that had long been resolved.
"Coulda gotten at least one of them if she didn't body block."
"She...came out from the van?"
"The gargoyle abe that..." Ernie turned to Marcus. The man in the van himself. The Aberration looked more confused than anything else.
Marcus paled. Perfectly planned. It was almost as if Brent had perfectly planned the whole day around this. The mention of Wisford had brought up the first set of walls he'd hoped nobody would notice, but the outright accusation that Brent had delivered had knocked every single one of them down. His eyes nervously flicked between every single one of them sitting at the table - they weren't the friends he'd been sitting with just a second ago. Now, they seemed like predators, watching his every move. Ready to tear a confession from him.
"I..." Nothing came out. He had no explanation.
"Yeah," Brent said, attention on the ones that actually spoke up, "I had three shots lined up for those three abes. Dunno how the gargoyle got in to begin with, but I think that surprise element was what really made things spiral out of control. Factory fight by itself was not totally horrible, right?"
Not horrible? Was that how they considered the fight against Factory?
Focus.
Her gaze shifted from one person to another. Brent didn't know how, sure, but he hadn't been in charge of the evacuation. Grey eyes fell onto the scarred Arbiter for a long moment as Siena searched for the correct words. She never found them.
"How?"
The armor piercing question. A question Marcus had only had to answer once before.
"I don't-" the words caught in his throat, coming out as breathy whispers.
"I don't know."
"What do you mean, you 'don't know'?" Ernie stared at him, hard. "The APC was your job, wasn't it?"
A pause.
"Don't look so nervous, Marc." Ernie added. He didn't think it was malicious.
"I mean...I mean 'I don't know'." Marcus repeated, desperately trying to stammer out his explanation without it faltering. "One second there was nothing, and then she was there. She-she...must've been teleported in or something." That made sense, nobody knew the extent of other people's powers. It was the second bet explanation he could come up with, and he'd been struggling to come up with excuses for a while now.
Liar.
Why...?
"You're terrible at lying, Marcus." The words came before she could stop them, and Siena didn't even have the sense of mind to mask the turmoil. Hurt. That was the word. Hurt. Her gaze turned away briefly. Too many thoughts. Why did he need to lie? Hypocritical, really, considering how often she did it herself, but the emotional response was too immediate. "So please, just...answer the question."
"I'm not-" Marcus started defensively. Her eyes were turned away from him. Of all the people that could call him out of a lie, she was the best. "They...they were coordinated. Knew where the APC was. She...wasn't there...and then...everything..."
Marcus wasn't dumb enough to let something like a 'gargoyle' onto the APC. Ernie knew that. But the Arbiter was acting like a really shitty liar all of a sudden.
"Wait, so did she teleport in or not?" Ernie looked between Siena and Marcus, hoping for a straight answer.
He was still lying, wasn't he? Siena struggled to control the immediate backlash.
"People died in that incident, Marcus." Ah, too late. "So just. Answer. The question."
A silence.
"Cal...blames herself," Ernie said quietly, a darker emotion starting to bleed into his words with every passing realisation, "Hell, Emma blames herself."
The Aberration looked to Marcus desperately. Heatedly.
"Dude, just...there's no reason to look like that. Can you just tell us what's going on?"
People died. The girls had been blaming themselves for far too long now. Marcus had done nothing to try and fix that; the only way to fix it would inevitably make things worse. That was what he'd come to accept, and the entire train of thought that had been driving him this whole time. Even when Brent had questioned him, he figured that if nobody knew what actually happened, he could keep trying to do damage control. He'd tried to help Callan in the hospital. He'd tried to help Emma when she was at one of her worst moments. He had desperately hoped that everything he'd done would help. That's what he was there to do, right? Help the team when they were feeling down.
But it hadn't worked. Everything was all coming to one explosive finale, and he was stuck right in the middle.
Only thing he could do now was face the music.
"It was an accident..." he started. That wasn't enough. It would never be enough. "There was a collector...and I had to make sure everyone was okay." Get to it already. There would be no sympathy here. "I didn't...check. And she got through."
An accident. Not his fault. Siena likely would have done the same, and she knew it, but it didn't calm her down. She took a carefully measured breath, trying to calm down, and succeeding in the barest amount. Another breath. Try.
"Nobody expected you to manage that perfectly." Well, that was a lie. Not his fault. "Were you ever going to tell them?"
Marcus sighed, looking to the ground. That was really the kicker here, wasn't it? The fact that he knew what happened, and had let Callan and Emma sit and stew. That was more damning than anything.
"I tried...I tried to at least let them knew it wasn't their fault. Tried to tell Callan that there was nothing she could have done. Tried to let Emma know, too..."
He played around with his food some more, daring not to look up. He knew what he'd find in their eyes.
"You didn't try hard enough," Ernie's glare was directed to his own plate. He didn't have the heart to look up, "You didn't try at all."
While the admission beat on his head with the full force of its many implications, Ernie merely rested his head in his hand. Tired. He was tired of being disappointed by this guy. Anger had passed during their talk on the island. Marcus wasn't worth such a heated emotion anyway, and Ernie doubted he could reignite it when his Stigma had flickered out to almost nothing. It had been a long time since he'd seen anyone besides himself do such a selfish and pathetic thing. Such a dumb mistake snowballing into something unforgivable.
"I had to watch them cry. Both of them." Ernie chuckled bitterly into his hand. "I couldn't say a damn thing to make it better."
That was an image he'd never be able to erase. Callan in his room, trying to hold back tears. Failing to keep that revelation from overwhelming her. All because of Marcus. Ernie hated that memory. He despised it with his entire being.
It was a fact he'd acknowledged long ago. Marcus was likable. Marcus wasn't a scumbag that acted out whenever he was in a bad mood. Marcus would always be closer to Cal in a way Ernie could never breach. Same for Emma. So if Ernie, some weirdass new kid that sat with them at lunch, had seen both their weakest emotional moments, what the fuck had Marcus seen?
Resigned hazel eyes turned to the Arbiter. Tired. For now, he was unaware of the hypocrisy of his words. "It takes some special guts to see someone hurting, someone you're supposed to care about, and just sit there doing nothing."
The Aberration sighed, hands returning to their place over his eyes. He asked it as if he was asking about last night's game.
"Did you have a nice month at least? Being in the clear while your friends tore themselves apart?"
Couldn't say a damn thing to make it better.
"Yeah. Me neither." Marcus said, softly enough that it might not even be heard. This last month, there had been a part of him that wondered how things would work out if he had said something. Would it have even mattered? Callan would still blame herself for actually tackling the gargoyle, and Emma would still blame herself for not being able to help. The only thing it would have done was come around to hurt him.
Hell, it might have been worse for them if they knew. At least, that was a line of justification he'd tried to sell to himself at one point.
"I would hardly call it 'being in the clear.'" Marcus said bitterly, looking to Ernie. There was an emotion that burned in his eyes, a queer mixture of sadness and an almost resigned anger. "I've been there while every single one of them tore themselves apart. Right next to them. Trying to make it better. Every. Single. One."
Chestnut eyes focused on Ernie. He'd never be able to stop him. He wouldn't put a friend down like an animal.
They flicked to Siena. A promise he would never keep.
"You're so full of shit." Siena muttered quietly. She caught the gaze, didn't turn her eyes away like she normally would have. "But I guess that's why you make such a good face for us."
Not his fault. He couldn't have known about the gargoyle, couldn't have known what would have happened. Not his fault, and she would regret this.
"You watched them tear themselves apart, and you kept quiet." Not his fault. "You can sell it as trying to fix it, and maybe you provided some modicum of comfort, but that doesn't change that you watched them hurt and decided that you were worth more."
Not his fault. She was going to regret it.
"But I guess that lines up with what the rest of the world thinks, right Time Scar?"
" 'Time Scar'," Ernie barked out a laugh at the heroic moniker, harsh and bitter, "The heart of our operation! Didn't care enough to not shoot a guy in the face and had even less compassion for the teammates he was supposed to comfort. What a fucking headline."
"Wh-what?"
Worth more? That was what Marcus had decided, wasn't it? Even when he was alone, thinking over everything that had happened, he'd determined that he was worth more. It the hypotheticals where he realized that the girl was an aberration, they always ended the same way. Him against her? It was no question. Even if he knew...he wasn't sure that anything would have changed. Those kind of thoughts were the ones that tore him apart. He was worth more than Savannah. Emma was worth more than a regular. His wellbeing was worth more than Callan's peace of mind.
There was nothing he could say to defend himself, even before Ernie spoke up. Even before Ernie had betrayed him to his roommate.
All he did was look at Ernie. A look that said more than he could ever hope to.
Ernie caught what Marcus was sending and all at once it was like his heart fucking plummeted through his stomach.
"W-what do you mean, 'what'..." his head swiveled between Marcus and Siena before settling on the girl. She had to have known. Otherwise that meant Ernie had just...
His tone was almost accusing. "You were there! What the hell do you mean?"
Grey eyes shifted from one party to another, and despite her best efforts, the brunette couldn't restrain a slight flinch at Ernie's tone.
No. No, no, no. No.
Her eyes went back to Marcus, and the expression on his face. No. No, no. No.
"I-I...it--" A vehement denial rose as a defense mechanism, but it was torn away so easily. The gunshot. She had heard it, but she'd assumed... Siena turned her attention from Ernie to Marcus again, seeking confirmation, denial, something.
Marcus closed his eyes in concentration, and let a deep breath escape.
"Yeah. To protect Emma."
"To release your anger," Ernie scoffed, fury momentarily reignited by the familiar excuse. He didn't care who was listening, "You could have fired literally anywhere else, used your powers. But you didn't. And you can't take that back."
He could have. He didn't. Was it panic? Was it anger? Could he attribute it to anything but himself? Probably not. He knew. It wasn't a mistake he could undo.
But again, he wasn't sure if he would, given the opportunity.
"Yeah. I know." Marcus said, a mix of bitterness and defeat. Ernie had ruined everything. Callan. Siena. Possibly two of the highest people in his world. Maybe he did need a way to release his anger. Maybe that's why it slipped out of his mouth.
"I'm sure you understand that feeling."
Ernie's hand shot out, grabbing Marcus roughly by the shirt and hauling both to their feet.
"Don't," he snarled through grit teeth, "don't you fucking start."
Shit.
Siena shot to her feet, one hand on her phone, her eyes snapping to attention.
"Stop."
Marcus couldn't really say he was surprised by the sudden lift; he had a feeling it was going to happen at one point or another, and he quickly moved to put his feet under him and relieve a little bit of the choking. He didn't even care that Siena was speaking up. He couldn't exactly worsen her opinion of him at this point.
"What? he said, voice slightly strained by Ernie's grip on the front of him, but no less defiant. "You're allowed to tell secrets, but I'm not?"
Escalate and escalate and escalate. With a single phrase, everything went to shit, and before Brent's eyes, the camaderie built up from Washington onwards crumbled just like that. Should have expected it, really. The foundations weren't all that strong, after all, and now, the bonds were burning up, disintegrating into ash by secrets kept from back in Wisford. Did Marcus seriously not tell a single soul? Did Sophia seriously not tell? Lawrence never noticed or spoke up either? Not even confided to those closest to them?
And now it was the bullet, the shot that Marcus fired to protect Emma and kill a regular. All these sins spilling out while others within the cafeteria took notice, guards eyeing the dissonant quartet. He should be taking steps to stop this, to do something to resolve the situation.
But in that moment, Brent disliked the scarred arbiter as well. It was a mistake, how the gargoyle even got inside to begin with, but to keep silent on the 'how' for so long, even to his best friends? The enhancer recalled his own talk with Marcus in Washington. They weren't close then, and it was too much to expect someone to spill their guts out that easily to a stranger. That was okay. He didn't mind that. And hey, maybe Emma and Callan never asked, so Marcus was never obligated to really explain himself. Sure. That worked out too. Made sense. Maybe he just hoped that enough time had passed, enough incidents had occured, that people would eventually forget Wisford. That the mistake that cuased the death of a young girl would remained buried, never disturbed.
Amethyst eyes flickered once more to the guards.
Keep it quick.
"We're all assholes with skeletons in our vaults," Brent said, locking eyes with Marcus, then with Ernie, "Take this shit outside before the two of you get shot."
Ernie glared back at Brent, then to Marcus. His hold didn't loosen.
"Rethink your next words, buddy."
Dangerous. Nothing good would come from this. Ernie had seen the guards too.
"You've lost enough already. Don't make me take more."
Ernie let him go then but he remained on his feet, his gaze still boring a hole through Marcus.
"I don't think there's much else to say, pal." Marcus said, straightening the front of his shirt.
With that, he turned away, walking towards the cafeteria door. Staying would only cause more problems, and he didn't even bother to turn around and look at Siena or Brent.
"Well."
Brent watched Marcus until he disappeared into the crowds.
"Shit."
Somehow, the situation diffused, and Siena felt her fingers release her phone as she released a quiet breath. No relief.
"Shit." Still no relief, but no regrets. Not yet. Her gaze turned away from Marcus's retreating form, her mind still buzzing. He'd killed someone--it paled in comparison to her own mistakes, but...ah, damn it. And what was he talking about? Ernie too...? Too many things, and worst of all, a declaration that remained constant like an underlying whisper.
If it came down to it, he was still worth more, wasn't he?
Fuck.
Ernie watched Marcus too, before he sat back in his seat with a tired exhale. He looked dazed. Then confused. Then mournful.
Silence echoed over the table until Ernie managed to find his voice.
"Siena, I'm..." he croaked. Words would never be enough. "I'm sorry."
Best birthday ever. How did everything turn out this way? Oh, he fucking knew how. Sliding away from the table, Brent stood up, took his tray, and said, "I'll be grabbing a drink. Third floor."
He'll track Marcus down tomorrow. For now, the bitterness needed to be burnt away, the mercury purged.
Never too deep, hm?
Siena took a moment before she turned her attention to Ernie, her mind still churning through countless thoughts, but she did what she did best.
You really never get any better at this, hm?
"It's...I'll be fine." Siena claimed. She wouldn't be, but that wasn't for anyone else to know. Taking her own tray, Siena gave a weary breath. "I think I'll...get some air before I try heading back."
If she even went back at all.
Ernie didn't try to stop her, nor did he offer to go with her.
"Okay. I'll see you later."
He packed up his and Marcus' trays when he finished eating. Pocketed Siena's phone after she uncharacteristically forgot it. Then he headed up to the bar.
It was almost unfortunate that Ernie was the only one with an easy "fix" available.
Marcus's tendency to panic was difficult to work with, though Siena couldn't help but feel a slight sense of relief at that. She'd been surprised as it was that her roommate had stuck around for the training portion of the ordeal...but it was at least some minor comfort that the blonde didn't make hurting and killing a priority. Siena wasn't entirely certain she wanted to change that.
Then, of course, there had been Brent. Aggressive, which wasn't unexpected, but outside of a few minor advantages it maintained in a controlled situation...
Broken in the storm again. He could have died.
It wasn't ideal.
But Siena had little choice but to file her observations away so she could focus on first-aid lessons, which had been a weight off her shoulders. It was easier for her not to be the instructor, always easier to listen to them than anything else. Unfortunately, keeping the thoughts comparmentalized was significantly less simple when they had settled into the cafeteria after their training had concluded. Once again, the brunette had taken to pushing her meal around on her plate moreso than actually eating it, mind too preoccupied with "next times" and "what ifs" to remember she needed to actually eat her food.
Meanwhile, Ernie had the contents of his first aid kit splayed out over the table, murmuring to himself as he counted through it all. Normally he'd be annoyed if he knew most of his supplies were going to be wasted on fake Ground Zero people but today was an important demonstration. Hopefully future missions would be more successful and less deadly because of sessions like these. He'd been worried about teaching a full class of Arbiters, the potential squeamishness that would have come from those who didn't benefit from others' suffering, but they'd actually managed to push through it and learn a lot!
"Man, I didn't think we'd go through so much of it today," he remarked, "I'm gonna have to run into town to stock up tomorrow."
"I didn't realize you were going to go through it at all. Figured it would be more 'theoretical' than you made it." Marcus said, attempting to hide his grimace with a fake laugh. Some of the things Ernie had done at Ground Zero didn't exactly sit with him that well. Even if they were fake people, everything that happened to them was real. The screaming, the crying, the fear...especially the sound...euuugh. Bones crunching was not a noise he was comfortable with, and screaming...
...well, he didn't care for the screaming either.
Needless to say, he hadn't touched much of his plate while they'd been at the cafeteria.
While Marcus went green and Ernie worried about stocking up his kit, Brent mumbled to himself, eyes out of focus as he saw a different scene before him. In his mind, the arbiter continued to replay the surprisingly bountiful amount of knowledge Ernie had disseminated towards the three, visualizing each gruesome injury and the makeshift solutions for them all. Cuts, breaks, burns, bullets. Hopefully the knowledge would help. Hopefully it'd be more useful than applying knife fighting techniques against a monster. He palmed the bullets he kept in his pockets, cool to the touch, as his gaze turned skywards. No whumpf whumpf, no dragon roars, but still...
"Medical aid is a physical skill," Brent said with a shrug, "Not gonna learn if you don't apply it practically."
Well, as someone who regularly went to Ground Zero for his own training, it wasn't like he cared all that much for those thoughtless drones.
"Most training works better with application over theory," Siena claimed absentmindedly, mind still turning over what they'd gone over. She'd done her best, of course, to mitigate and remove pain where she could, but it wasn't an ability she could hold infinitely. Besides which, they wouldn't always be in a situation where tearing the sensation away was an option. Her fork scraped lightly against the surface of her plate, a dim thought in the back of her head. Would the people of Ground Zero count? She imagined crimson welling up on their skin, light that rose like wisps of smoke, then imagined--ah, no. Not then. "Better to practice on people that will get better regardless of the end result than on each other though. I would hate to have my first practical on one of you."
Ernie nodded vigorously, finally snapping the clasps of the kit shut to start on his dinner. "Yeah, what those guys said. It won't be any prettier in a real fight, though maybe throwing the newbie soldiers into the deep end was a mean thing to do..." Not that he was very sorry for it. It was only Marcus after all. Siena and Brent had dealt with it a lot better.
"Yeah...no...obviously." Marcus said, shrugging his shoulders. "It just makes me glad that we've usually got Lily or Christmas around. The wonders of modern medicine, you know?" he added, trying to play it off. It was certainly a beneficial lesson to learn, but that didn't really make him more comfortable in the aftermath.
"Pretty awk that we have to cut open Christmas for him to work his magic though," Brent replied, "Or have Lily open up her own body during transfers. If only Bene-bro could be our main healer. Not like they don't already have free invincibility in the form of Sparrow."
Ernie swallowed a forkful of pasta, his expression more stern than usual.
"Lily's off the table for easy heals, since it takes too long to convince her to use Kusari. Tulpas are off limits now too. Christmas can't be trusted to navigate the battlefield and his magical tell is too easy to find. Makes him easy to snatch."
'Stern' might have been an understatement. 'Calculating', perhaps. Disdainful.
"All the more important that we have more people who can 'heal' in the future. There's a good chance that the main two won't always get to our fighters in time to get them back in fighting shape, or even keep them conscious. Take how long it took for us to set up Lily on the island, for example."
Another forkful. Dark, hazel eyes trained on the table.
"But Wisford might be the better example here. That was a fucking shitshow."
"Shitshow, sure, but it was also our first proper operation. Did well until gargoyle girl came out from the van and fucked everything up."
A pause, linger regret that had long been resolved.
"Coulda gotten at least one of them if she didn't body block."
"She...came out from the van?"
"The gargoyle abe that..." Ernie turned to Marcus. The man in the van himself. The Aberration looked more confused than anything else.
Marcus paled. Perfectly planned. It was almost as if Brent had perfectly planned the whole day around this. The mention of Wisford had brought up the first set of walls he'd hoped nobody would notice, but the outright accusation that Brent had delivered had knocked every single one of them down. His eyes nervously flicked between every single one of them sitting at the table - they weren't the friends he'd been sitting with just a second ago. Now, they seemed like predators, watching his every move. Ready to tear a confession from him.
"I..." Nothing came out. He had no explanation.
"Yeah," Brent said, attention on the ones that actually spoke up, "I had three shots lined up for those three abes. Dunno how the gargoyle got in to begin with, but I think that surprise element was what really made things spiral out of control. Factory fight by itself was not totally horrible, right?"
Not horrible? Was that how they considered the fight against Factory?
Focus.
Her gaze shifted from one person to another. Brent didn't know how, sure, but he hadn't been in charge of the evacuation. Grey eyes fell onto the scarred Arbiter for a long moment as Siena searched for the correct words. She never found them.
"How?"
The armor piercing question. A question Marcus had only had to answer once before.
"I don't-" the words caught in his throat, coming out as breathy whispers.
"I don't know."
"What do you mean, you 'don't know'?" Ernie stared at him, hard. "The APC was your job, wasn't it?"
A pause.
"Don't look so nervous, Marc." Ernie added. He didn't think it was malicious.
"I mean...I mean 'I don't know'." Marcus repeated, desperately trying to stammer out his explanation without it faltering. "One second there was nothing, and then she was there. She-she...must've been teleported in or something." That made sense, nobody knew the extent of other people's powers. It was the second bet explanation he could come up with, and he'd been struggling to come up with excuses for a while now.
Liar.
Why...?
"You're terrible at lying, Marcus." The words came before she could stop them, and Siena didn't even have the sense of mind to mask the turmoil. Hurt. That was the word. Hurt. Her gaze turned away briefly. Too many thoughts. Why did he need to lie? Hypocritical, really, considering how often she did it herself, but the emotional response was too immediate. "So please, just...answer the question."
"I'm not-" Marcus started defensively. Her eyes were turned away from him. Of all the people that could call him out of a lie, she was the best. "They...they were coordinated. Knew where the APC was. She...wasn't there...and then...everything..."
Marcus wasn't dumb enough to let something like a 'gargoyle' onto the APC. Ernie knew that. But the Arbiter was acting like a really shitty liar all of a sudden.
"Wait, so did she teleport in or not?" Ernie looked between Siena and Marcus, hoping for a straight answer.
He was still lying, wasn't he? Siena struggled to control the immediate backlash.
"People died in that incident, Marcus." Ah, too late. "So just. Answer. The question."
A silence.
"Cal...blames herself," Ernie said quietly, a darker emotion starting to bleed into his words with every passing realisation, "Hell, Emma blames herself."
The Aberration looked to Marcus desperately. Heatedly.
"Dude, just...there's no reason to look like that. Can you just tell us what's going on?"
People died. The girls had been blaming themselves for far too long now. Marcus had done nothing to try and fix that; the only way to fix it would inevitably make things worse. That was what he'd come to accept, and the entire train of thought that had been driving him this whole time. Even when Brent had questioned him, he figured that if nobody knew what actually happened, he could keep trying to do damage control. He'd tried to help Callan in the hospital. He'd tried to help Emma when she was at one of her worst moments. He had desperately hoped that everything he'd done would help. That's what he was there to do, right? Help the team when they were feeling down.
But it hadn't worked. Everything was all coming to one explosive finale, and he was stuck right in the middle.
Only thing he could do now was face the music.
"It was an accident..." he started. That wasn't enough. It would never be enough. "There was a collector...and I had to make sure everyone was okay." Get to it already. There would be no sympathy here. "I didn't...check. And she got through."
An accident. Not his fault. Siena likely would have done the same, and she knew it, but it didn't calm her down. She took a carefully measured breath, trying to calm down, and succeeding in the barest amount. Another breath. Try.
"Nobody expected you to manage that perfectly." Well, that was a lie. Not his fault. "Were you ever going to tell them?"
Marcus sighed, looking to the ground. That was really the kicker here, wasn't it? The fact that he knew what happened, and had let Callan and Emma sit and stew. That was more damning than anything.
"I tried...I tried to at least let them knew it wasn't their fault. Tried to tell Callan that there was nothing she could have done. Tried to let Emma know, too..."
He played around with his food some more, daring not to look up. He knew what he'd find in their eyes.
"You didn't try hard enough," Ernie's glare was directed to his own plate. He didn't have the heart to look up, "You didn't try at all."
While the admission beat on his head with the full force of its many implications, Ernie merely rested his head in his hand. Tired. He was tired of being disappointed by this guy. Anger had passed during their talk on the island. Marcus wasn't worth such a heated emotion anyway, and Ernie doubted he could reignite it when his Stigma had flickered out to almost nothing. It had been a long time since he'd seen anyone besides himself do such a selfish and pathetic thing. Such a dumb mistake snowballing into something unforgivable.
"I had to watch them cry. Both of them." Ernie chuckled bitterly into his hand. "I couldn't say a damn thing to make it better."
That was an image he'd never be able to erase. Callan in his room, trying to hold back tears. Failing to keep that revelation from overwhelming her. All because of Marcus. Ernie hated that memory. He despised it with his entire being.
It was a fact he'd acknowledged long ago. Marcus was likable. Marcus wasn't a scumbag that acted out whenever he was in a bad mood. Marcus would always be closer to Cal in a way Ernie could never breach. Same for Emma. So if Ernie, some weirdass new kid that sat with them at lunch, had seen both their weakest emotional moments, what the fuck had Marcus seen?
Resigned hazel eyes turned to the Arbiter. Tired. For now, he was unaware of the hypocrisy of his words. "It takes some special guts to see someone hurting, someone you're supposed to care about, and just sit there doing nothing."
The Aberration sighed, hands returning to their place over his eyes. He asked it as if he was asking about last night's game.
"Did you have a nice month at least? Being in the clear while your friends tore themselves apart?"
Couldn't say a damn thing to make it better.
"Yeah. Me neither." Marcus said, softly enough that it might not even be heard. This last month, there had been a part of him that wondered how things would work out if he had said something. Would it have even mattered? Callan would still blame herself for actually tackling the gargoyle, and Emma would still blame herself for not being able to help. The only thing it would have done was come around to hurt him.
Hell, it might have been worse for them if they knew. At least, that was a line of justification he'd tried to sell to himself at one point.
"I would hardly call it 'being in the clear.'" Marcus said bitterly, looking to Ernie. There was an emotion that burned in his eyes, a queer mixture of sadness and an almost resigned anger. "I've been there while every single one of them tore themselves apart. Right next to them. Trying to make it better. Every. Single. One."
Chestnut eyes focused on Ernie. He'd never be able to stop him. He wouldn't put a friend down like an animal.
They flicked to Siena. A promise he would never keep.
"You're so full of shit." Siena muttered quietly. She caught the gaze, didn't turn her eyes away like she normally would have. "But I guess that's why you make such a good face for us."
Not his fault. He couldn't have known about the gargoyle, couldn't have known what would have happened. Not his fault, and she would regret this.
"You watched them tear themselves apart, and you kept quiet." Not his fault. "You can sell it as trying to fix it, and maybe you provided some modicum of comfort, but that doesn't change that you watched them hurt and decided that you were worth more."
Not his fault. She was going to regret it.
"But I guess that lines up with what the rest of the world thinks, right Time Scar?"
" 'Time Scar'," Ernie barked out a laugh at the heroic moniker, harsh and bitter, "The heart of our operation! Didn't care enough to not shoot a guy in the face and had even less compassion for the teammates he was supposed to comfort. What a fucking headline."
"Wh-what?"
Worth more? That was what Marcus had decided, wasn't it? Even when he was alone, thinking over everything that had happened, he'd determined that he was worth more. It the hypotheticals where he realized that the girl was an aberration, they always ended the same way. Him against her? It was no question. Even if he knew...he wasn't sure that anything would have changed. Those kind of thoughts were the ones that tore him apart. He was worth more than Savannah. Emma was worth more than a regular. His wellbeing was worth more than Callan's peace of mind.
There was nothing he could say to defend himself, even before Ernie spoke up. Even before Ernie had betrayed him to his roommate.
All he did was look at Ernie. A look that said more than he could ever hope to.
Ernie caught what Marcus was sending and all at once it was like his heart fucking plummeted through his stomach.
"W-what do you mean, 'what'..." his head swiveled between Marcus and Siena before settling on the girl. She had to have known. Otherwise that meant Ernie had just...
His tone was almost accusing. "You were there! What the hell do you mean?"
Grey eyes shifted from one party to another, and despite her best efforts, the brunette couldn't restrain a slight flinch at Ernie's tone.
No. No, no, no. No.
Her eyes went back to Marcus, and the expression on his face. No. No, no. No.
"I-I...it--" A vehement denial rose as a defense mechanism, but it was torn away so easily. The gunshot. She had heard it, but she'd assumed... Siena turned her attention from Ernie to Marcus again, seeking confirmation, denial, something.
Marcus closed his eyes in concentration, and let a deep breath escape.
"Yeah. To protect Emma."
"To release your anger," Ernie scoffed, fury momentarily reignited by the familiar excuse. He didn't care who was listening, "You could have fired literally anywhere else, used your powers. But you didn't. And you can't take that back."
He could have. He didn't. Was it panic? Was it anger? Could he attribute it to anything but himself? Probably not. He knew. It wasn't a mistake he could undo.
But again, he wasn't sure if he would, given the opportunity.
"Yeah. I know." Marcus said, a mix of bitterness and defeat. Ernie had ruined everything. Callan. Siena. Possibly two of the highest people in his world. Maybe he did need a way to release his anger. Maybe that's why it slipped out of his mouth.
"I'm sure you understand that feeling."
Ernie's hand shot out, grabbing Marcus roughly by the shirt and hauling both to their feet.
"Don't," he snarled through grit teeth, "don't you fucking start."
Shit.
Siena shot to her feet, one hand on her phone, her eyes snapping to attention.
"Stop."
Marcus couldn't really say he was surprised by the sudden lift; he had a feeling it was going to happen at one point or another, and he quickly moved to put his feet under him and relieve a little bit of the choking. He didn't even care that Siena was speaking up. He couldn't exactly worsen her opinion of him at this point.
"What? he said, voice slightly strained by Ernie's grip on the front of him, but no less defiant. "You're allowed to tell secrets, but I'm not?"
Escalate and escalate and escalate. With a single phrase, everything went to shit, and before Brent's eyes, the camaderie built up from Washington onwards crumbled just like that. Should have expected it, really. The foundations weren't all that strong, after all, and now, the bonds were burning up, disintegrating into ash by secrets kept from back in Wisford. Did Marcus seriously not tell a single soul? Did Sophia seriously not tell? Lawrence never noticed or spoke up either? Not even confided to those closest to them?
And now it was the bullet, the shot that Marcus fired to protect Emma and kill a regular. All these sins spilling out while others within the cafeteria took notice, guards eyeing the dissonant quartet. He should be taking steps to stop this, to do something to resolve the situation.
But in that moment, Brent disliked the scarred arbiter as well. It was a mistake, how the gargoyle even got inside to begin with, but to keep silent on the 'how' for so long, even to his best friends? The enhancer recalled his own talk with Marcus in Washington. They weren't close then, and it was too much to expect someone to spill their guts out that easily to a stranger. That was okay. He didn't mind that. And hey, maybe Emma and Callan never asked, so Marcus was never obligated to really explain himself. Sure. That worked out too. Made sense. Maybe he just hoped that enough time had passed, enough incidents had occured, that people would eventually forget Wisford. That the mistake that cuased the death of a young girl would remained buried, never disturbed.
Amethyst eyes flickered once more to the guards.
Keep it quick.
"We're all assholes with skeletons in our vaults," Brent said, locking eyes with Marcus, then with Ernie, "Take this shit outside before the two of you get shot."
Ernie glared back at Brent, then to Marcus. His hold didn't loosen.
"Rethink your next words, buddy."
Dangerous. Nothing good would come from this. Ernie had seen the guards too.
"You've lost enough already. Don't make me take more."
Ernie let him go then but he remained on his feet, his gaze still boring a hole through Marcus.
"I don't think there's much else to say, pal." Marcus said, straightening the front of his shirt.
With that, he turned away, walking towards the cafeteria door. Staying would only cause more problems, and he didn't even bother to turn around and look at Siena or Brent.
"Well."
Brent watched Marcus until he disappeared into the crowds.
"Shit."
Somehow, the situation diffused, and Siena felt her fingers release her phone as she released a quiet breath. No relief.
"Shit." Still no relief, but no regrets. Not yet. Her gaze turned away from Marcus's retreating form, her mind still buzzing. He'd killed someone--it paled in comparison to her own mistakes, but...ah, damn it. And what was he talking about? Ernie too...? Too many things, and worst of all, a declaration that remained constant like an underlying whisper.
If it came down to it, he was still worth more, wasn't he?
Fuck.
Ernie watched Marcus too, before he sat back in his seat with a tired exhale. He looked dazed. Then confused. Then mournful.
Silence echoed over the table until Ernie managed to find his voice.
"Siena, I'm..." he croaked. Words would never be enough. "I'm sorry."
Best birthday ever. How did everything turn out this way? Oh, he fucking knew how. Sliding away from the table, Brent stood up, took his tray, and said, "I'll be grabbing a drink. Third floor."
He'll track Marcus down tomorrow. For now, the bitterness needed to be burnt away, the mercury purged.
Never too deep, hm?
Siena took a moment before she turned her attention to Ernie, her mind still churning through countless thoughts, but she did what she did best.
You really never get any better at this, hm?
"It's...I'll be fine." Siena claimed. She wouldn't be, but that wasn't for anyone else to know. Taking her own tray, Siena gave a weary breath. "I think I'll...get some air before I try heading back."
If she even went back at all.
Ernie didn't try to stop her, nor did he offer to go with her.
"Okay. I'll see you later."
He packed up his and Marcus' trays when he finished eating. Pocketed Siena's phone after she uncharacteristically forgot it. Then he headed up to the bar.
Brent waved at Ernie as the buzzcut boy appeared. Before him was an empty shot glass, the tips of his ears the only indication that the arbiter was slightly buzzed.
"An Old Fashioned, please," Ernie called to the bartender and took a seat beside Brent. The drink came quickly and Ernie took a sip, slightly grimacing at the taste.
"Rough day, huh?"
Ernie scoffed. "I'll say."
A larger sip this time.
"You knew about the APC."
"Yup. Pieced it together after a bit." A pause. "Never knew he didn't even tell Emma."
"What about everyone else?"
"Who else?"
"Callan. Siena, me, the whole freaking class." Ernie had a dangerous glint in his eye, though he kept it trained on the tumbler in front of him. "You didn't think to tell us?"
"Talked to Callan," Brent replied. "La Plata hospital. Turned out for the worst, and then she holed up. Spoke to Marcus in Washington, after I thought he had time to sort it out. He didn't, so I let it go. Confirmed with Sophia. Non-answers there, but enough to draw the conclusion."
He tapped the shot glass, slowly, like a metronome.
"Thought it was Marcus's story to tell. Thought that he already did."
The finger stopped, resting on the rim.
"No one brought that incident up, not to me. Not about Sav. And not a single person in the APC ever spoke of it."
Even then, would he have been all that eager to pin the blame on anyone? No. Perhaps this problem only escalate so dramatically because of how long it had been kept under wraps.
Ernie didn't know what he was looking for with this conversation. Another person to blame? Was he willing to drive off Brent too? A nauseous feeling started churning in his stomach.
"I see," he muttered, and gulped down the rest of the glass.
It felt like a frightening reenactment of the gym on the island. A bridge freshly burnt, still smouldering. Ernie looking to Brent for reassurance.
"I was too harsh on him."
"If I saw what you saw, I probably would have broken his nose back when I first talked with him."
Ernie chuckled. "Yeah, and get shot straight after. Thanks for stepping in when you did, by the way."
"No problem."
A thoughtful expression emerged then, the warmth of his vodka dissipating.
"Will you tell them now?"
Ernie hesitated. Ordered another drink, a Manhattan this time. The intent in his eyes only deepened as he drank.
"Only if I have to."
"Give him some time," Brent replied. "Noticed how he didn't bring his gun back on Bald Eagle Island?"
"What are you trying to say?"
"Not too sure. But..." He motioned to Steve, pointing at the empty glass. "I can understand the fear and the regret."
Ernie stared into the bottom of his glass, taking in Brent's words. "He's not a bad guy. Selfish, cowardly maybe but not...bad." Not like Ernie. The Aberration leaned into his elbows. "It's too late either way. I don't even think I regret it this time."
"Mm, relationships you want to keep are hard to make when you bury so much shit in the back of your mind, hm?" Brent raised his glass. "A toast then."
Ernie lifted his drink, amused. "What are we toasting to?"
"To Team SAP. It was fun while it lasted."
A melancholy sigh. "To Team SAP then."
Glass clinked against glass, before Brent downed it in a single go, the imitation of warmth spreading through his veins once more, fuelling the embers within his stomach.
"So, what's our new duo name anyways? Sesame Street?"
Ernie downed his drink too, laughing heartily at the quip. The alcohol was already starting to loosen him up.
"Needs some workshopping," he grinned.
He pulled Siena's phone from his pocket, placing it in front of Brent before ordering another.
"It's a start," he replied, flipping his glass upside down.
"An excellent one," Ernie nodded a few times too many. He pushed the phone closer to Brent. "Siena's."
"Forgot it?"
"She said she needed some air. Left it on the seat. It probably isn't a fun idea for her to see me right now so could you give it back to her instead? I know you guys are close."
"Oof, we're not close enough for a psychic connection, yah know? Know where she went?"
"I dunno. Just out."
"Hm..." Brent nodded. "Was thinking of getting some air myself. Guess I'll head out then?"
"Yeah. I should be getting back to the dorms anyway," Ernie replied, despite ordering another drink. "See you later, man."
"Aye."
A pause.
"Steve also makes protein shakes, by the way."
"Oh, neat."
"Yup. See ya."
And with a quick phone swipe, Brent was gone, a knight galloping for his princess.
"An Old Fashioned, please," Ernie called to the bartender and took a seat beside Brent. The drink came quickly and Ernie took a sip, slightly grimacing at the taste.
"Rough day, huh?"
Ernie scoffed. "I'll say."
A larger sip this time.
"You knew about the APC."
"Yup. Pieced it together after a bit." A pause. "Never knew he didn't even tell Emma."
"What about everyone else?"
"Who else?"
"Callan. Siena, me, the whole freaking class." Ernie had a dangerous glint in his eye, though he kept it trained on the tumbler in front of him. "You didn't think to tell us?"
"Talked to Callan," Brent replied. "La Plata hospital. Turned out for the worst, and then she holed up. Spoke to Marcus in Washington, after I thought he had time to sort it out. He didn't, so I let it go. Confirmed with Sophia. Non-answers there, but enough to draw the conclusion."
He tapped the shot glass, slowly, like a metronome.
"Thought it was Marcus's story to tell. Thought that he already did."
The finger stopped, resting on the rim.
"No one brought that incident up, not to me. Not about Sav. And not a single person in the APC ever spoke of it."
Even then, would he have been all that eager to pin the blame on anyone? No. Perhaps this problem only escalate so dramatically because of how long it had been kept under wraps.
Ernie didn't know what he was looking for with this conversation. Another person to blame? Was he willing to drive off Brent too? A nauseous feeling started churning in his stomach.
"I see," he muttered, and gulped down the rest of the glass.
It felt like a frightening reenactment of the gym on the island. A bridge freshly burnt, still smouldering. Ernie looking to Brent for reassurance.
"I was too harsh on him."
"If I saw what you saw, I probably would have broken his nose back when I first talked with him."
Ernie chuckled. "Yeah, and get shot straight after. Thanks for stepping in when you did, by the way."
"No problem."
A thoughtful expression emerged then, the warmth of his vodka dissipating.
"Will you tell them now?"
Ernie hesitated. Ordered another drink, a Manhattan this time. The intent in his eyes only deepened as he drank.
"Only if I have to."
"Give him some time," Brent replied. "Noticed how he didn't bring his gun back on Bald Eagle Island?"
"What are you trying to say?"
"Not too sure. But..." He motioned to Steve, pointing at the empty glass. "I can understand the fear and the regret."
Ernie stared into the bottom of his glass, taking in Brent's words. "He's not a bad guy. Selfish, cowardly maybe but not...bad." Not like Ernie. The Aberration leaned into his elbows. "It's too late either way. I don't even think I regret it this time."
"Mm, relationships you want to keep are hard to make when you bury so much shit in the back of your mind, hm?" Brent raised his glass. "A toast then."
Ernie lifted his drink, amused. "What are we toasting to?"
"To Team SAP. It was fun while it lasted."
A melancholy sigh. "To Team SAP then."
Glass clinked against glass, before Brent downed it in a single go, the imitation of warmth spreading through his veins once more, fuelling the embers within his stomach.
"So, what's our new duo name anyways? Sesame Street?"
Ernie downed his drink too, laughing heartily at the quip. The alcohol was already starting to loosen him up.
"Needs some workshopping," he grinned.
He pulled Siena's phone from his pocket, placing it in front of Brent before ordering another.
"It's a start," he replied, flipping his glass upside down.
"An excellent one," Ernie nodded a few times too many. He pushed the phone closer to Brent. "Siena's."
"Forgot it?"
"She said she needed some air. Left it on the seat. It probably isn't a fun idea for her to see me right now so could you give it back to her instead? I know you guys are close."
"Oof, we're not close enough for a psychic connection, yah know? Know where she went?"
"I dunno. Just out."
"Hm..." Brent nodded. "Was thinking of getting some air myself. Guess I'll head out then?"
"Yeah. I should be getting back to the dorms anyway," Ernie replied, despite ordering another drink. "See you later, man."
"Aye."
A pause.
"Steve also makes protein shakes, by the way."
"Oh, neat."
"Yup. See ya."
And with a quick phone swipe, Brent was gone, a knight galloping for his princess.
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