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HereComesTheSnow Member
dehydration expert
STATUS: trying to find the "golden ratio" of weed and ozempic to cause my appetite to stack overflow and reactivate the long-dormant photosynthesis gene from that 50% of DNA we share with plants. will update 9 days ago
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9 days ago
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trying to find the "golden ratio" of weed and ozempic to cause my appetite to stack overflow and reactivate the long-dormant photosynthesis gene from that 50% of DNA we share with plants. will update
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1 mo ago
many people dont know this but a good cue for deadlifting is to bring your chest up and lock your lats for proper spinal stability. this also applies to interacting with gorillas i'm told. testing no—
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3 mos ago
yeah i work in area 51, it's pretty chill. usually you just get a tweaker roll by on a "spiritual journey" once a month. they tend to go away once you put a few AIM-9s downrange on their flying saucer
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4 mos ago
man is closest to god after an ice cold beer in the warm shower. his mind and body are freed. next closest is behind the wheel in a scool zone, also with an ice cold beer in hand. study this well.
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5 mos ago
yeah mom its me can you come pick me up me and the boys were wondering if pulling a potato peeler over tommy's behelit would wake up the little guy in there and it started screaming.. thanks love you
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"Cross my heart and hope to die. C'mon," she replied, shooting the smaller girl a reassuring grin as she gently led her onto the floor. "The waltz is pretty easy. You'll get it in a flash."
All around them, the pairs had linked up in earnest, familiar faces and complete strangers partaking in the festivities alike in equal measure. They slowly milled around Selma and Chie, less a centerpiece and more rolling with the tide, and they all navigated the floor in their own subtle ways. Noel and Aoife out of the corner of Selma's eye one moment, the confident blonde swaying without care for her form or reception, only her former partner. She was glad to see the other girl well— she'd made a hell of a good impression during their first evaluations.
A few paces later, there passed a silver-haired stoic in similar threads to the jolly green giant, leading that cheery redhead with the long legs from Hasta around in crisp, precise steps, meeting the latter's flowing, breezy stance with a rigid, practiced orthodoxy— a contrast that seemed to uplift the former, casting a spotlight on her brisk style. A little crazy, considering she was clearly already loving every moment of...
Well, the moment, I guess.
A few seconds after that, that selfsame cloud of purple and white drifted by. Rivka! Another who'd crossed paths with someone new, she'd given Selma little in the way of surprise. As a connoisseur of the melodic arts, her sense for rhythm and passion for music had clearly given her an easy time when learning the basic steps of the dance— once you got a handle on it, it was a cinch to do well. Just a three-count was nothing for her fiery sister from the frigid north, a land where dance and song were once prized arts beyond compare.
And finally, they'd nestled into their space within the throng, two girls in a crowd with just enough room to breathe.
"So, let's get into it!" Selma chirped, about-facing and taking Chie's arm in her other hand, the free arm coming to nestled her hand just below the other Magi's shoulder. "First thing's first, just make sure you follow my lead— so, step when I step, and step as far as I step— and keep this distance here..."
Off they went. She was slow and methodical at first, a far cry from the discordant spontaneity she showed in battle, and gave her partner ample breathing room to learn the count and steps. For her part, Chie was attentive, if a little shy with her posture and movements. But the waltz was genuinely a simple progression:
Forward, side, close.
Backward, side, close.
"One, two, three."
One, two, three.
Make sure the foot that steps out is always stepping after the lead, forming an L-shaped stride. Let the slight vertical sway from going up on the toes asd then back down to your heels carry you through the rhythm, don't go and fight it. Never stray too far from your partner, nor venture too close.
Simple, basic waltz stuff.
Easy to lead, and once Chie had gotten herself a feel for the tempo, easy to follow. Selma made doubly sure that she in turn didn't step too far— her legs were far longer, so she made sure to keep it conservative, never more than a shoulder's width stride. The slow tempo was forgiving for the slight missteps, and before either of them really knew it, they were both drifting along the floor, their dance carrying them in a pleasant, prim spiral.
"Nothin' to it, eh?"
She had dexterity, she had grace. She had the training of an Ars Magi, something with far more frantic footwork, at her back— Selma could see the lights in her grey eyes as she realized that inner monologue of, Hey, I'm getting the hang of it! All told, it was nice and smooth— she had nothing to fear. And now she knew it, too.
"This is maybe a little fun," Chie said, pinning her dance partner with a full-bore, double-barreled gaze right in the eyes. "I was a little nervous, but I feel better knowing you're my first."
...
The big girl laughed, just as Chie was, a gentle, almost lilting thing compared to her usual raucous howls. It wasn't the type the young lady, mistress of gravity, had been worried about before, that much was clear. It hadn't an ounce of derision, only honest surprise and, ever so faintly, a little tinge of embarrassment. She'd gotten comments like that once or twice before in her dance electives, and despite her carefree willingness to take the compliments as they were...
"Ahahaha, wow, you really got me with that one."
Every so often, it reminded her that even she had a few things she was weak to.
"I'm honored as a teacher... And as a friend; you're gonna make me blush, dammit." she said, beginning in that same smooth husk from earlier before slowly breaking down into her natural cadence, emerald hair swaying ever so slightly as they waltzed.
Her gentlemanly act could never hold up indefinitely, as that big, toothy, classically Selma grin burst forth from beneath the gallant, handsome propriety. She'd never been one much for balls, even if she knew all the dancing by heart— but it went to show that the right people, those you let see your uncool sides and weren't afraid to have fun with could make anything worthwhile. She'd have hated all the stuffy crap, were it not for those four.
"Thanks, Chie. I'm happy too."
She chuckled again, unbidden, and continued to lead as they circled through the floor, one of many spokes within the slow, spiraling wheel of Duodecim's chosen few.
time for my favorite bit about writing posts— rereading my last five to make sure this Makes Sense in context
Gerard Segremors
@JessieTargaryen@VitaVitaAR@Crimson Paladin
"Likewise, Dame Runa." he murmured in response, inclining his head in a small, slight nod at her greeting as his voice left his throat in a bit of a tense undertone, in spite of the ghost of a smile that had crossed his face in the exchange. Riding wouldn't allow for much else, and he wasn't one for sweeping gestures in the first place.
Let alone when things have developed in this direction. Not surprised to see Haelstadt with the Cal heiress, even if I count myself surprised at her being here.
Paladin Tyaethe was, as one might have expected, growing irate with how they'd been all but led around by their noses to only turn up more questions than they'd divined answers. Privately, Gerard found himself in agreement. Less privately, his brow furrowed once more, now that he was satisfied he'd covered for Runa's delay well enough. To begin with, so much of this had already flown over his head— the unnatural murder-suicides at the fort, the unexplained presence of the Pigs, why at all Alette was there, the shard of Angoron...
He was pretty sure it all tied together somehow— it had to, really, otherwise there'd have been a cornucopia of coincidences at that fort that not even he could believe. But he'd yet to see how. They were trying to read a story that had been thrown into a fire, scrambling to find the right fragments of burnt parchment to figure out what happened. Perhaps the cooler heads among them, the more seasoned, learned, and analytical, were tying the threads together in their minds— but he was squarely stumped.
"Who's that?" Runa whispered softly, unable to place the face.
Which reminded him, there was yet someone even more lost than he, through no fault of her own.
He glanced at Sir Fleuri, who'd taken it upon himself to ride alongside and act as a fellow guiding hand— perhaps to the both of them. Gerard, after all, had not even a year on Runa's tenure. Were there anyone suited for the task, it'd be him, not somebody barely more experienced with proper knighthood.
"Veileena Cal." he replied again, gruff and low in his whisper. Given that something of a general murmur had sprouted in the mass of the small contingent that rode ahead of him, he leaned slightly to the side— not enough to throw his balance tremendously, but hopefully easier for the other two to hear. "She's the daughter of the Traitor, Phoran, if I remember right. The big one's her bodyguard, Haelstadt. Don't know if we should worry about him. I am."
And on him, Gerard's gaze wasn't wavering. He still remembered the clear aura of danger the man had worn like a cloak, even standing as an impassive decoration that evening at the ball. Behind that armor, reading him was a fool's errand. His body language was conservative, too, but in being so contained...
Gerard got the feeling that his icy nerves weren't wrong. If this went sour, the big man would be trouble. It would be like fighting the aforementioned son of the Jodeau family. A tall task, unless the pacing Paladin decided to interject. Numbers would bring any one fighter down, but like Jeremiah before him, Gerard wasn't certain he couldn't bring a few of their number down in the process.
In that case, I'm the one going for him. I can't let that man get to anyone else.
He breathed deep through the nose, before exhaling a long, slow puff out the mouth.
"I don't know how they tie into it, but at the fort we'd apparently stumbled onto the aftermath of a shard of Angoron. The mercenaries that pointed you our way were mopping up the detachment of Golden Boars that were posing as the guards garrisoned— I think. Sir Fleuri and I only found a note leading here in the Captain's quarters."
His eyes narrowed, wanting to look to either of his comrades but unwilling to leave the pillar of onyx that stood beside the Heiress. He was instead forced to speak.
"Sir Fleuri. I'm doing my best here, but this is throwin' me for a loop." he said, momentarily lapsing into his rural accent. "Has been since day broke. You saw her at the ball, right? She wasn't acting against the kingdom then. You were certain."
It wasn't a tone that questioned the older knight's judgement. Gerard held him in exemplary regard in all facets of knighthood, from courage to skill to etiquette. His instincts were no different from anything else on the list, and his word was ironclad. Was he a perfect judge of character? Nobody could be. However, as someone further along the path, Sagramore Gellert struggled to name a point when his advice wasn't sound.
"I'd kill for your read of what we've been caught up in, Sir. Aside from what we turned up a few hours ago, I'm lost as Miss— Dame Runa is. Apologies."
He had the kind of head that could tie the big picture together.
That girl hadn't been too keen on the assassination plot that had sprouted in her family's crypt, if memory served— and didn;' speak terribly lovingly of her father, nor his actions. It had exonerated her of the entire affair before it had even come into question, so...
What the hell was she doing here, in a staredown with them and apparently expecting someone else entirely?
shame to see you go man
take care out there
take care out there
He has great respect for Mayon and her followers, he just has a Reonite temprament and hails from a majority-Reonite town
Fleuri is also an aggressive fighter, a believer in "the best defense is a strong offense". He uses a greatsword because dismemberment is generally a reliable way to put foes down. Unfortunately, as he learned in their last mission, chopping off limbs isn't always enough against foes that can regenerate.
Reonbros to the end, team “Just Go In” never die
All you need is solid fundamentals and more righteous anger. The only question you ever need to ask yourself is really just "what if john wick had a sword"
Very, very similar stuff. Gerard's a former mercenary, so no stranger to fighting dirty with or without swords— in the raid on Jeremiah's camp at the beginning of the game he was picking up enemies' spears and shit. Unarmed it's mostly country boy wrestling, just like in the fighting manuals.
Aggression, physicality, diligently honed technique, and more than a little disregard for personal safety is the name of his game. It ain't much, but it gets the job done more often than not. Only nearly got cooked two or three times for his trouble!
3-5 business days I'm told
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