BlasTech

Huntresses of Hybrasil

"So that's the definition you cleave to?" replies Isabelle, as the Emberlight slowly drifts through the debris field. Her own fighting style leaned towards melee as well, so if it came to a straight fight then Isabelle would be well matched. That said, unlike the match with Kiriala, she didn't have any real incentive to make this a fair fight - at least not yet.

Whether that changed would depend on how the conversation went.

For now, she'd be content to slowly make her way into range of her longer-reach weaponry, seeding the arena as she went with her own ordinance and drones as she goes.

"I know the definition of 'Outsider' can vary from Zaldarian to Zaldarian" she continues. "So, I guess, thanks? For at least opening up that far to me."

"Another Zaldarian I know went the other way. Her definition of Outsider must be so strict that I don't think I've heard her ever say a word - despite fighting alongside her, against her, and watching her battles over the whole tournament. Not to mention that stunt she pulled at the Gala."

Scope to the eye, can she get a clear sightline?

"You know who I'm talking about, right? One of us - whoever wins here - will have to face her next. Her and the Aeteline." she continues. "You may have fought Terenians, but have you fought that?"

[Roll to read a person, 6 + 2 + 2 = 10 What do you think of Solarel? and How can I get you to let me be the one to face her?]

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Highlights. There were many.

Whether it was the point where Asil and Tomas tried to start up an impromptu karaoke set (much to the confusion of the Hybrasillians and the dismay of the Terenians).

Or the surprisingly flavoursome food that Ksharta brings out (and which forces Isabelle to switch to water for a while)

Or just listening to Kiriala tell story after story about the famed Shantriala, eyes shining with expression. "I would hang the moon in the sky to make you smile" it says, and Isabelle steals a glance at her own sky-scape, who is busily stuffing her face with some kind of bread and dip combo.

The whole experience was so strange. There were no speeches, no schedule. The food just came out. Accumulating in clusters with no discernible pattern other than each piece was different to the other. Drinks flowed freely. But without champagne or wine or any of the other staples of her parents functions.

That wasn't to say Isabelle was a complete shut in - unfamiliar with how other people lived. But even when she'd had events with her 'friends', they had never felt so ... casual. Everyone had always been in designer clothes, even when it was a sleepover, the food was always prepared in advance by the staff.

And don't get her started on the birthday parties. They were choreographed with all the obsessive scheduling that could be imagined for parents that cared more about the event, photography and social media reaction than the participants.

In comparison, this whole evening felt like one long highlight. Although, right now, lying on the sofa with her head in Asil's lap, staring into space while the smaller woman teases her hair ... Isabelle has to concede that this, this, is probably the highlight. If only for the scant moment of peace and warmth it brings in an otherwise cold world.

Unfortunately, the quiet gives time to consider other things. The fight that's coming. The one after it (hopefully). Work. Finances. Tomorrow's schedule. Quiet moments were all too often just free range for a perpetually moving mind like hers.

Lurking in the background is the ever present threat of her mother. What is she up to? The quiet is unnerving. As much as she'd love to believe that she'd maybe heard the truth in Mira's words back at the Gala, and had changed her viewpoint and approach, Isabelle was just too jaded from all the... well, the everything, to really believe that was the case.

Still, whatever plan she had. It wasn't going to take place now, not while she was still winning matches. Not when it might threaten to tank their campaign No, it'd come when (or if) she lost a match. The moment that her autonomy had no further benefit. The point when Almira's project needed to be brought back into line.

She sighs.

It's her one last chance. To prove that she's my mother, rather than just the woman who gave birth to me. I wonder if she even understands what she's gambling with.

Taking another sip of the strong, but pleasant, cocktail, Isabelle buries her face deeper into Asil's side. Seeking just a little more comfort before the next day has to start.

Huntresses of Hybrasil

"So ... why did you bring us here of all places?"

"I have no idea!"

Rosa rolls her eyes at Isabelle's all-too-chipper response. Something has been weird with this girl ever since the gala and today was no exception. They were meant to be back at the Emberlight's hangar, having their own celebration with the techs and maintenance crews. But Isabelle had only put in a token appearance there before declaring an unlimited bar tab and then whisking the four of them away to another engagement.

'Why here?' - the question had been bouncing around in Rosa's head all night and now that she'd voiced it she was still no closer to understanding. This wasn't their party, the screens on the wall weren't showing their fight. Heck, they didn't even know anyone here. Rosa would have been convinced they'd just gatecrashed someone's hangar were it not for two facts; 1) Isabelle was not one to gatecrash anything in her life, and 2) She had been adamant enough about their invitation to bring a thankyou gift.

That potted plant was now sitting somewhere on its own amongst the candles. A fact that did nothing to ease Rosa's concerns about the whole situation.

Things didn't seem to bothering Asil or Tomas though. The two of them had taken one look at the bar fridge and promptly exclaimed about the presence of 'proper beer' before breaking open a couple of bottles and prowling off to find some other engineers. Probably to talk shop.

Which left her and Isabelle alone at the fringes of this strange gathering. Apart from the one Terenian, who Rosa only recognised from the news bulletins after the last match, almost everyone here was a Hybrasillian. They seemed to be content to do their own things for now. Chatting, unwinding, cooking (that last, at least, brought some inviting smells out of their kitchenette).

"So, is there something you want to do here?"

"Wait!"

Rosa frowns, glancing at Isabelle. The other woman seems to be rocking on her feet, looking for something. She's almost, excited?

"Huh? For what?"

"I don't know. But the last three times I've let something like this happen, something interesting has happened soon after. No idea what it'll be tonight, but I don't want to miss it!"

Rosa, blinks.

And blinks again.

Nope, still not making any sense.

"Have you gone nuts?"

"Probably, but the statistics are still in my favour!"

Rosa sighed, making to go grab one of those beers. She had a feeling she'd need it before the night was out.

Isabelle, meanwhile, was on the lookout. If Kiriala, or Mirror, or the high priestess were to come in their direction she'd make to approach them. They were the most likely candidates to lead to something tonight. Statistically speaking ...

Huntresses of Hybrasil

The invitation catches Isabelle by surprise. After all, what would Kiriala really have to celebrate given her defeat and exit from the tournament? And, moreover, why invite the person who defeated her? It didn't make sense.

Isabelle probably should have declined and, as recently as a few weeks ago she would have. Now though, she thought she recognised her mother's voice in those questions and it gave her pause.

Stop. Reset. Take a fresh look.

What had her interactions with Kiriala and Mirror's crew been like to date? Supportive? Cordial? Not antagonistic. Not ... well, Mirror had wanted something from her, but hadn't hidden that behind other requests or maneuvers. She hadn't come at her sideways, she'd asked.

Even though she hadn't told her everything about what the broadcast was meant to include or do - she had stated her objectives pretty plainly. They were things Isabelle could empathise with, and see right to support.

That said, she found it hard to think of anything that actually supported trusting Mirror - not yet. Maybe if she came through on her promise it'd be different. On the other hand, she had no specific reason to avoid her either.

Data inconclusive. Other perspectives?

Ultimately, their interactions had been interesting. Which was a damn slight better than most other interactions within her regular circles. They promised things. Things Isabelle had hoped for, but at a layer so deep she hadn't known until they'd spoken the words out loud for her to recognise.

Still, it would be wrong to leave her own crew - her real crew - Asil, Tomas, Rosalinda - in the lurch.

Maybe some way to achieve both objectives?

"I'd love to come, although I think my own team will likely want to do something together too after today. Would it be alright if I brought them?" she asks. "Completely understand if you don't know or can't fit us all in."

Huntresses of Hybrasil

There's times, where the motions are so precise, yet sequenced. When they flow together just as they are meant to. Where you and your opponent move in tandem through the steps. And when the beat of your heart guides the tempo.

Where limbs and hands swing in time to the unheard music and there are only the two of you. In motion. Forward and back. Pull apart then come together.

Like ... dancing ... yes, that's how it is.

Isabelle loses herself in the rhythm for just a while. The hum of the electronics, the bass of the engines, the treble timbre of swords on steel. The pace picks up - Allegro. And, it's with the faintest of resistance that Isabelle completes her turn. The Emberlight coming to a rest with a flourish of a non-existent skirt.

Silence reigns briefly as Isabelle's mind emerges from the flow-state that had been the battle. Taking into account Kiriala's words. The state of her mech and the battlefield all around them.

Eventually, she remembers she's meant to reply. Probably something humble, or demurring from the compl-.

"... Damn right it was!"

Huh, I guess the adrenaline is still kicking in. Oh yeah, there is goes. Hands shaking a little.

"Now come on." she says, taking a steadying breath and moving to keep the Ginger Tiger from toppling over.

"Let's get you back to the hangar. You've got repairs to do and a shuttle to catch."

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Kiriala

A Tier 1 feint? Definitely not what you should have used had you wanted to win the fight. But when you're only in the tournament because your nation has called you up - because someone else has decided that you need to be here right now - then it's not really something you've ever been that invested in winning, isn't it?

I mean, sure - you'll try to win out of some basic desire to show your ability, to prove your loyalty and worth to Hybrasil. But whether its for Mother Hybrasil, or just Mother, they don't really love their children in the same way as real mothers are meant to. They won't make time for you. They won't put your needs above theirs. And they won't let you think that you deserve it.

And that's the thing, Kiriala, that Isabelle is trying to help you understand.

You really do deserve it.

It's in the way that she delicately dismantles your defences. In the way she keeps talking, even as her sword flashes out, speaking of the similarities you two share - bonded by duty and a sense of obligation that just isn't healthy sometimes. In the way she gently peels apart your technique, showing that she really has been paying attention to you - that you are deserving of that attention - and that anyone who doesn't give it to you, who doesn't see how much you want to really be somewhere else, doesn't deserve your attention in return.

Softly, insistently, almost lovingly, she breaks your guard.

And rests the point of her sword against your chest, feather light.

You can still fight back from this position if you really want. She's not taking that choice from you. The decision is yours to make. Knock the blade to the side, take a hit for Mother Hybrasil and keep the battle going. Endure the pain - in both senses - just to keep yourself away from Shantriala that bit longer.

But do you really want to? Or would you rather recognise the opportunity Isabelle is giving you?

Just go to her. Now.

You can do it.

[Roll to Entice: 5 + 6 + 3 = 14. Taking a string and offering her the out.]

Huntresses of Hybrasil

"Oh, so that's how it is!" replies Isabelle, grinning as she parries another swing of the spear. It's impossible to keep the teasing lilt out of her voice as she processes this new information.

"So, what stage are we talking about here - checking her out every time you two work together? Long-distance pining? Or have you two kissed yet?"

She pays attention to the Ginger Tiger's movements here, seeing for which guess is the one that causes it to slip up. Not because she cares about the fight ... she just really wants to know.

"Seriously though, I'm glad to hear you've got someone like that. In your life." she continues, blade sparking from another strike. Parry. Lunge. "I mean - I know just how lonely it can get ... in a tournament like this, it takes you away from other things. Your life ends up in this ... cycle of preparation, recovery and the next match. Over and over."

"Finding someone you can just be with. Who you can share a coffee with on a hard case or a difficult project. Who supports you, gives you an outlet. Listens. Whose presence is just ... comfortable. Or maybe comforting is the better word? I don't know."

"That's pretty special. So, if she's still out there, think about how you can get to her."

Isabelle twists out of range of a slash.

"You should really ask her out, if you haven't already."

Her manoeuvring jets blast white fire as the Emberlight sidesteps and leaps forward.

"The response might surprise you - in all the good ways."

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Isabelle was most definitely ready - but even so, found herself adjusting plans on the fly.

Melee charge - optimal response is to drop grenades and disengage, use ranged weaponry to ...

She tosses the autocannon aside, drawing her sword. Meeting the charge with one of her own.

No. Not this time. I'm not making the same mistake again.

This won't be like the match with Ksharta. This time, Isabelle will give Kiriala the fight she deserves - one of blades and wills, not one where she's just picked at from range. It's with that burning resolve that Emberlight blasts forward across the grass. Her sword tip sparking as it parries aside the blade of the Ginger Tiger's spear. A perfectly executed turn and strike that forces Kiriala to block with her haft. Precision jet blasts to strengthen each follow up hit - lighting up the ground around them with flashes of blue and flame as the two trade blows.

Kiriala might have the best tech her nation has to offer, skills that surpass any of her peers and a confidence that many would find enviable. But - and this is the important thing - Isabelle has all of those things too. Perfect form? Speed? Precision? It's like you're fighting a mirror image, distorted only by the galactic fluctuations of chance that brought this spirit up in a different body to your own.

This fight will be different. It already is different. The Isabelle you face isn't the cold, detached and - frankly, foolishly arrogant - opponent you might've seen in her previous matches. What had once been ice has melted. What had been robotic precision, detached and cold, is now being powered by something more. Something that shines through with every word that comes over the comms.

"I don't think the coffee thing is dumb" Isabelle says, genuinely, in a moment where you both lock blades. "I mean, remember who you're talking to here - I don't actually know what my wish would be either. Not anymore. And if you like a thing, then why not wish for it? I mean, I was a bit tempted to wish for all the books on Zaldarian and Hybrasillian tech that I could ever read. Would that have been dumb too?"

Pirouette away, flourish, jump and strike. The dirt around the Ginger Tiger erupts as Kiriala lunges forward. Isabelle meets the strike, talking again once they've locked their blades.

"I'm curious though - where'd the thing about being a detective come from? Is that something you'd be interested in? That'd be pretty cool."

[Roll to figure out a person: 5 + 1 + 2: 8. What are your feelings towards this tournament? How could I get you to find a different goal than winning? And, because this is a combat situation: What do you hope for your future? Kiriala can ask one in return]

Huntresses of Hybrasil

"G-good Se ..." Isabelle starts, her face flushing red. "Well, there are certainly some things I am not talking about on an open channel either!"

It's possible you can also hear the tongue sticking out at the end of that sentence.

"But generally, yeah, it's been a really good week! We had a breakthrough on some work with Zaldarian nanotech I can't wait to dip into more, training went well and I even averaged six hours of sleep per night for once! Nearly seven even!"

She leaves unspoken the fact that it would have been longer had it not been for Asil's ... determination.

"But yeah, the talk helped a bit too - I feel a bit ... lighter? I'm not sure how to describe it. I'm glad to hear Whispered Promise is working on her what we talked about. She doesn't have to, so it means alot that she meant what she said? Ah, look at me ramble. How are you? Been good? Ready for today's fight?"

Isabelle's also watching closely, but not making any aggressive moves to start the fight. She's ready if anything happens - but the sense is two boxers testing out their equipment, stretching and watching each other in the pre-match. Waiting for the mutually-agreed bell to sound.

"I know you're here representing Hybrasil. We're kind of the same in that I'm here for Terenius too. Three of us left each in the knockouts - maybe only one or two after today as the others are paired up together. If Ada wins though, I get the feeling her wish would be used closer to home."

"Any idea what you'll wish for if you make it to the end?"

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Everything is different about this - so many changes, so many firsts.

First time with Asil. First time with someone who actually cared about her. Enough to respect the bundle of neurosis that made up her personality and adapt. To put her needs ahead of theirs. To see her boundaries and not just plough over them in pursuit of something that they wanted from her.

First time seeing the spirit world. Even here, in the arena, there are geists that dot the landscape - Look! There's one whose job is manage the leaves on a tree. And there's one measuring the flow of the river! One more that is literally watching grass grow. And that's not even getting into the six over there who only exist to broadcast various unintelligible noises (maybe they're saying something in Zaldarian?). It's a whole new world with plenty to explore. Best of all, it's right here; no need for expeditions or equipment!

First time, also, entering an arena with someone she's actually met on the other side - not just a picture she's read about and studied. Although their discussion at the Gala had been brief - it felt different to be facing off against someone who had watched her dance. Who had joined in a discussion about theology. Who was family to someone she ... well, maybe friend was too strong a word - but someone she'd certainly had a connection with.

As for what greeting this all led to?

"Hey Kiriala!" calls Isabelle, taking a moment to wave to her opponent. "Glad you all made it off the Crystal station safely. How's Mira doing?"

First time for that, too, I guess.

It's amazing what changes can be wrought in a short time.