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Out on the training yard, the block named The Rabbits split in two, half going with MacKensie onto the archery range while Grimes took the other half for sword and shield training. She was glad to have Grimes around, a man who understood the technical aspects of melee combat much better than her. She, herself, relied purely on instinct, speed and lightning reflexes to carry her through any close-combat scenarios. This was unteachable. What she could teach, however, was sound archery fundamentals.
"Engage your core," she instructed to Wendel. He didn't understand her terminology, so she gave his abdomen a pat with the back of her hand. "Tense your stomach muscles as you draw." He did so, his posture straightening up. "Good. Feel how your hips and spine have aligned? This is how you should feel everytime."
She smiled encouragingly and left him to keep shooting.
"Tamsin. Lean forward slightly so that you feel your weight on the balls of your feet."
She patrolled the line of archers, correcting bad habits, periodically blowing her whistle to signal ceasefire so that all could go and collect their arrows. At one point, she was stood in place of one of her soldiers, showing him the correct way to place his feet while aiming, when her eyes caught the gaze of Zell across the yard. She quickly looked away, stumbling over her words and losing her train of thought.
"Why don't you try again and I will talk you through it, yes?" she said. The attempt to disguise her discombobulation was feeble, but it worked, the soldier none the wiser.
They trust I know what I'm doing, she thought to herself as she came around to the other side of the archer so she could put her back to where The Lions were training. They are counting on me to get them through this. And here I am, enveloped in my own drama. I have failed myself but I will not fail them. Your duty - above all else, Mac.
When Fenna brought some of her Falcons over to the range, she and MacKensie spoke briefly. Fenna mentioned that she had been enchanting the crossbow bolts MacKensie had given her, using her mana each day to make an equal amount of fire and ice bolts.
"Thank you so much," MacKensie smiled and touched the older woman's arm. "I will collect them this evening, before dinner."
Enchanted bolts in combination with her new, upgraded one-handed crossbow would be a monumental increase in her ranged damage. The new crossbow had replaced the old, fitted at the small of her back, easily drawn with her right hand. But she did not abandon her original crossbow, and wore it on her right hip, easily drawn by her left hand. Dual wield firing would require some alone time to practice - particularly the reloading aspect - but MacKensie was confident that she could make it work, at least for short periods of time in battle when she needed the extra firepower.
@LoksfjoerHave fun!
1. Arrive early.
For the second morning in a row, MacKensie was on the yard of the Military Centre before dawn, helping organise the equipment and performing other odd jobs that were considered 'below her rank.' As the sergeants under her command rolled in, along with a few of her soldiers who were also early-birds, she greeted them with a positive, energetic attitude.
2. Respect and courtesy.
She greeted everyone she pragmatically could with a handshake, by name if she knew it, and made sure to ask if they'd eaten breakfast and slept well. Those who hadn't eaten were sent off to the mess hall, with note of permission, to quickly go and get something in their stomach.
3. Embrace all duty and responsibiity. Go the extra mile.
"Water? Okay, I will go."
"Here, let me help. Come. Take a seat, I will get the first aid."
"Worried about your mother? Let's talk for a moment. Grimes... will you take over please?"
4. Set high standards for yourself.
"I will be running the mile with you, but I will be carrying eighty pounds of equipment in this backpack. Don't let me best you."
Later, during lunchtime, MacKensie got up from the tables to take her plate back to the kitchen, grabbing anyone's plate who was done and taking theirs back for them too. She offered to help the kitchen porters wash up, but they warmly refused her, appreciating the sentiment. Before heading back to the tables, she saw Grimes at the water cooler and went to him.
"I'm thinking we run another emergency drill, during the afternoon sparring," she said to him. They had been using a special whistle to signal the block to drop what they were doing, equip themselves with proper gear and make their way quickly to their designated street to form up for battle. Then they would make their way, as fast as possible without getting disorganised, up the tower and to their place on the wall, with the archers taking up position, nocking an arrow and being ready to fire. MacKensie would time this procedure from start to finish, hoping to improve the speed of their response each time.
Grimes nodded briskly. "Affirmative, ma'am." He watched her for a moment as she scanned the tables, then changed the subject. "Morale is good. The soldiers know that their captain cares about them. It goes a long way. And we sergeants have been enthused with your energy, helping us perform to our best too. You are a credit to the garrison."
"Thank you," MacKensie returned. "I am glad to be of help."
"And I am glad to serve under you." He saluted with a smile, then walked away with his water, while MacKensie realised that Grimes had never smiled a single time before today. He seemed a naturally stoic individual but it never stood out to her that he wasn't one for giving out smiles. So now she felt like she was most certainly doing something right. It was heartening.
Thanks, GM. And true! Everyone has been on top of their game, lately xD
Sorry for how long that last post was. We trimmed sooo much out. Like 40% of it. Saiyan had to take the collab and rewrite it as a single post to smoothen it out. And it still ended up like a book!
Sorry for how long that last post was. We trimmed sooo much out. Like 40% of it. Saiyan had to take the collab and rewrite it as a single post to smoothen it out. And it still ended up like a book!
Zell had kept MacKensie talking, so she had no suspicions until the realization of what was happening hit her all at once. In the darkness of evening, she did not notice the amazing structure of a building that was The Nightingale. She did not see the manicured hedge-rows or polished rails of the elevated garden and outside area. She simply went up the steps with Zell and, at the top, the fancy restaurant, bar and function hall was upon her. She was awestruck by the beauty of it all. Through the massive windows, she saw the immaculate hall inside. The beautiful furniture, the fancy gowns and suits of the patrons, the well-dressed staff, the small chamber orchestra of 10-15 strings and wind. Her heart fluttered as, for a moment, she felt like she was back home in Lyon - home for the holidays, a brief break from Uni - and attending the Winter Ball.
And in an instant, she was back in reality and realised her situation. "Zell, I cannot," she said.
Zell turned around, a mischievious smirk on his face. "What's up?"
"I cannot date you, Zell. I am in no position to think about such things as this. It is all I can do to focus on getting through this fantastical nightmare we are in," she explained. Now that she said the words out loud, to one of the two men in her heart, she knew she'd made a decision. She would firmly reject them both and be rid of this cloud hanging over her. It was the right thing to do. "I would be irresponsible to complicate matters, when our situation - the duty thrust upon us - is already so difficult. I must not fall... She shook her head, unable to finish that last sentence. So she settled for; "I cannot accept this."
Zell nodded his understanding, but the smirk didn't leave his face. "Sure. No problem. It's just; I owe you a drink, is all. Maybe two. Probably just one. And you definitely owe me at least two. I figured, we may aswell settle debts," was his counter. "It doesn't have to be a date. Just two friends having a couple of drinks."
MacKensie eyed Zell suspiciously. "Zell, I am serious," she said with urgency.
He raised his hands in surrender. "I know. I hear you, loud and clear. What? We can't have a bit of food and drink as friends?"
"As friends," she echoed. "It is not a date." It was almost a question.
"As friends," Zell repeated easily. "Not a date."
There was a bit of a silence between them. In the background, they could hear the fine music and gentle chatter. Behind Zell, she could see the host at the entrance, looking at them both expectantly. Zell was also waiting for her to respond, and so she did. "You owe me three drinks."
Zell let out an amused breath, then screwed up his face in thought. "I do not remember three."
And so their usual banter reconvened as they quietly argued about each time one had saved the other's life, between asking for a table and waiting to be seated.
"I grabbed the branch."
"So you say, but I very-much remember James speaking on the matter, afterwards - James, ever the voice of reason, thanking me for saving your silly behind."
As they took seats, Zell thanked the host and then got right back to arguing. "This is a conspiracy. Fake news. Corruption in the court. And anyway, if that nonsense counts, then I'm sorry but the one on the Temple roof certainly doesn't."
MacKensie smiled confidently. "Ah, so you do remember that one. I'm glad I did not even have to bring it up."
"I remember you shooting my opponent right before I was about to deliver a killing blow. That's just cheating. If you can't even admit that I single-handedly saved you and everyone else from the ass-kicking Zigmund was giving you, then I can't allow you No.3."
They finally settled at an impasse with a shared chuckle, ordered some wine and, after they got their drinks, the waiter took their order for the meal. In spite of being incredibly underdressed for the venue, MacKensie was in her element. The music was very classical and perfect for the ambience, not too intrusive. The fashion and opulence was just her kind of vibe. She was very-much enjoying herself.
Their conversation was nothing Second Chance-related. It ranged from London to Paris. From Psycology to Sociology. From Football to Archery. From older sisters to little brothers. Talking was always something Zell was good at. He could talk for England and for ever. But getting along with MacKensie was another level of ease and free-flowing conversation. She was so admirable. Her background so interesting. Her laugh like music and her accent like silk for the ears. The ever-cocky and unwavering Zell Brooks was like a love-sick puppy hiding behind the increasingly crumbling visage of bravado and strength.
MacKensie had forgotten there was even an army outside the city walls, or that there was a Source Crystal in her hand. One would see it in her face as she enjoyed her glass of wine, Zell's company and the wait for their food.
"Those are some lovely earrings." MacKensie smiled and thanked Zell for his compliment, touching her ear briefly. "You didn't arrive in this world with them."
"No," MacKensie replied. "I bought them while out with Fenna and Lillianna after our first night here."
Zell chuckled as he realised that MacKensie wasn't lying when she commented that she'd been frivolously spending just like himself. "Rich girl loves shopping?"
MacKensie raised her eyebrows and showed her palms. "Guilty." That made Zell laugh out loud. A nearby table looked over, noticed with bemusment how Zell and MacKensie were dressed, then shook their heads and looked away. "It was a small comfort to be able to walk about the market and indulge. This world is so reminiscent of our own."
"Tell me about it," Zell said. "I would never expect a world where you fight with swords and crossbows to have electricity and plumbing, let alone computers and modern products."
MacKensie agreed. She looked dreamily at the dance floor where half a dozen men and women, some of them not human, were doing something resembling the Waltz. "Even the music and dancing is so similar. It is like a distorted mirror of home." There was a lull of thoughtful silence as Zell followed her gaze to the dancers and arched an eyebrow. This was not his idea of dancing. But MacKensie was enthralled. "This is a beautiful ballad."
"You like this kinda stuff?" the Englishman asked in an accusatory tone. "You are such a princess," he chided playfully. "Not my scene, tee-bee-haeche. Looks a bit daft to me."
MacKensie was almost offended. "Really? But it is so refined." Zell was not convinced. "To learn ballroom dance is to learn a tapestry of one's culture and heritage, in France," she told him. "There is so many century's progression of art and fashion, within each dance, to be felt and experienced." Again, love-sick puppy Zell was captured by her passion and interesting perspective. "To dance this way is to walk through history in the footsteps of those that came before you."
Wow. Zell had never thought about dancing in such a way. This was probably because his kind of dancing involved a lot of jumping around with guys or grinding with girls, to music much louder than this, much different too. It was like MacKensie was from another world - no pun intended.
"Show me," he finally said, drawing her attention from the floor and back to him with surprise. "The tune is still going. We won't be the only ones on the floor. But there's enough space that it'll only be your toes I'm stepping on. Give me a lesson."
Nine times out of ten, MacKensie would have refused, but this moment fell into that elusive other ten percent. She was well into her second glass of wine and so had enough courage that she simply couldn't resist a chance to enjoy a piece of home. She smiled and tentatively got out of her seat, Zell mirroring her.
"Something super basic, I'm not a fast learner."
MacKensie stopped in space on the floor. "Okay, this is as simple as it gets. Even a gorilla like you should be fine. Place your hand here and here." One hand high on her waist, with her hand on his shoulder. And the spare hand they placed lightly against eachother's, in the air. "Now we step to the music, in the shape of a triangle. Methodically. In rhythm." Back and to the right, she stepped. Then left. And back to their orginal position to complete the triangle. "And turn. Now again. Step, two, three, step, two, three... and turn..."
There were a number of mistakes before something actually resembling a Waltz began to take shape. "You are getting it," were her words of encouragement.
"Shush, woman. I'm concentrating, over here," he rasped with pretend-annoyance.
They shared a giggle. Their food arrived but they did not stop dancing until the music came to it's conclusion. Neither were happy that this time would come to an end, as the gliding motions became easier and they could focus on eachother and the music. But come to an end, it did. Graciously, they parted and clapped like everyone else on the floor, then went to sit down to eat. They complimented the food and enjoyed dinner with some more light conversation.
"So, is your family proper upperclass then?" Zell asked curiously as he ate. "Like... proper?"
"Mm," MacKensie answered, covering her mouth briefly with her fingers to finish her bite before answering properly. "My father is an entrepeneur and self-made man. But my mother is from money. She, in fact, can trace her family line all the way back to the aristocracy - survivors of the French Revolution. You have heard of this?"
"Err, yeah, it rings a bell, but I don't know anything about it," Zell admitted. "An important historical event, I'm guessing?"
"Yes." Conflicting feelings of left wing ideals and right wing parents hit her. It wasn't nice so she was quick to summarize and change topic. "Most people celebrate it, in France, but some do not. With great change comes... a lot of violence."
"Makes sense," Zell replied, sensing MacKensie's discomfort. "Well, it is my honour, m'lady, to have the privilege of this non-date."
Her eyes flared. "This is not a date."
"That's what I said," Zell teased. "Just two young and beautiful people enjoying the finer things in life."
"You are so big-headed," MacKensie shot back with a smirk.
"Wouldn't you be, if you were me? Look at me."
"I cannot believe you can say that, unironically. You are something else, Zell Brooks." She shook her head. "I suppose humility would not suit you."
Zell suddenly got serious, taking the last bite of the micro-portioned meal and putting his cutlery down. He sat forward and leaned an arm on the table. "Humility? Try this on for size." What came next was a complete change in tone. "Looking at you makes me realise that I'm not even close to the man I want to be. Just knowing you are near... I wake up everyday and tell myself that I'm gonna strive to be better. And I could do this until my hair turns grey. And I still won't measure up to be someone worthy of you." His voice was sorrowful by the end. "But I'd still try."
MacKensie was left in shock, eyes blinking, cheeks burning, lost for words. Zell held her gaze, sincerity in his eyes. By the time she found her voice... "Zell, I..."
"Are you gonna eat that?"
MacKensie looked down at her plate, then back at him, mood completely shifted once more. And she burst out laughing. "You are a pig, Zell," she reprimanded, wiping her watery eye.
"Jeez, I'm only askin."
"It is bad enough manners that you scoff down your food, but now you are rushing me too. I will not allow it." Zell grinned. "Get dessert, if you are still hungry."
"I don't do dessert. I'm sweet enough."
"Kill me now."
After dinner, they took their final glasses of wine to the second floor garden balcony and leaned against the rail to look at the blackness of night. The air had become crisp, as opposed to the warm breeze of the evening. "It is so late. I hope you know the way home."
"I'm not gonna lie," Zell sighed. "I have no idea."
"Sacre bleu."
"I think this place has rooms for rent. I should have enough money left for two rooms. We can head back to The Drum in the morning." Zell sipped his wine and shrugged. "Might aswell spend the money. All of this could be gone, next week."
MacKensie tilted her head in an exaggerated motion. "Maybe. But I am not so ready to die again. I still remember the last time. It is not my happiest memory." She smiled sorrowfully.
"I'm just saying..." Zell started apologetically. He didn't mean to kill the mood. "...What I mean is: It should be over for us. And he here we are, in another world. And it could be over yet again. We should be grateful to whatever gods are out there, for 'the now.' Regardless of past or future. Our shoulders are weightless. We are free. Free to not hold back." Zell swirled the wine around in the glass absently. "Every moment, every breath... it's a gift. A bonus. Why not live for the present?"
"Aha," MacKensie giggled. "Gift. Present. I see what you did there."
They both burst out laughing and Zell almost dropped his glass off the balcony which resulted in even more hysterics. When they finally calmed down, Zell looked at her and raised his glass to toast. "Here's to; living in the moment."
MacKensie joined him. "To; living in the moment."
Clink.
The more Gildor thought about the proposition, the more MacKensie liked her chances. When he eventually spoke, it was to tell the frenchwoman that he could not part with Finsiraya. MacKensie immediately bowed her head graciously. "I understand," she said. "The other crossbow, however... surely it is not unreasonable to make the deal for this. I will still give you all the money I have, and not a copper less."
MacKensie counted out the remains of her funds in front of him to hopefully convey transparency. An experienced businessman like Gildor would probably be cold to such a show. It's not like she couldn't have just left some money behind at The Mended Drum. Still, she would endeavor to prove she was not up to any tricks. The two agreed a price, with Gildor kind enough to leave her some silver to get by.
"What's the name of your Adventurer party?" he asked and she answered clearly, giving her name and the name of James too. "I will go to the Adventurer's Guild, this evening, and if a contract can be made, it will be waiting for your leader to accept. After that is taken care of, come back to the shop and we will make the exchange."
"You do me a great service, sir," MacKensie told him, placing a hand on her heart. "I am forever grateful."
Gildor nodded as he brought out a pen and some paper from behind the counter to note down the details she'd given him. It was at this time that the little bell on the door sounded and MacKensie looked over her shoulder to see, "Zell."
"Oh, alright Mac..." She smiled as he approached, then watched the interchange between the two men with some amusement, covering her chuckle with her fingers when the focus was turned on her, by Zell, while Gildor strongly objected to the idea that he and Zell were friends. "You buyin something?"
"Um, not exactly," she told him, not sure if she should give details on the deal she'd made with Gildor. For one thing; it wasn't even a done deal yet - the guild may not allow this kind of thing. And secondly; Gildor might not appreciate her putting ideas in other customers heads that they could pester him to give them loans too. "I seem to be a little short on cash for the weapons upgrade I'm looking for, but there is hope yet that I might be able to work something out for the upcoming battle." Hopefully that explanation would suffice, at least until they were not in front of the blacksmith. "And yourself?"
When Zell gave the affirmative and turned his attention to Gildor, starting with declaring budgetary constraints, MacKensie could only smile. "I too have been irresponsible with my spending," she said. When Gildor went to fetch the buckler shield that Zell had requested, the two friends talked whilst they waited. "Yes, I believe my block are a good bunch. They vary in skill, but I cannot fault their heart or their work ethic." She crossed on foot over the other as she stood there, putting a hand on her hip. "The day has been long, though. A little overwhelming at first, but I think, by the end of the afternoon, I had a good grasp on what is expected of me. I have a man - Sergeant First Class - who I have made my right-hand. He has been a boon, today. Smart, experienced and helpful. With him, I think I will be fine. My duty, from tomorrow onwards, will be; to be a mouthpiece for his commands. His suggestions will be the orders I give. I am to lead the block because of my strength as a Crystal Bearer. This, I can do. But I would be wrong not to delegate control of our days leading up battle, to my more experienced Sergeants."
She wished she had more to offer, and perhaps she would find ways to be of more help in the coming days, but she was a simple Ranger. Leading by example on the battlefield was always going to be her strongest suit.
"How about you?" she asked before smiling as she assumed, "I'm sure you got along just fine, no?" Zell was a perfect fit to be an infantry commander - loud, brash and brave, and on top of that; a sharp mind for the tactical elements of combat. "My block is on the Right Flank," she also added, when appropriate. "And you?"
Once Zell's business was concluded... "All set?" ...MacKensie reiterated her gratitude for Gildor's help and bid him a good evening, so that she and Zell could take their conversation outside. "I'm eager to know what James and Adam have been up to." The doorbell jingled once more as the two left the shop. The darkening sky signalled evening. There was still a warm breeze, though. "I wouldn't expect them to be on the front lines, but I still have no idea how the magic-wielding forces will be deployed. The flexibility of James with his blessings and Adam with his plants, will be boundless. A keen strategist's dream, I imagine."
Please, I need to know the DC for the Finsiraya persuasion check! And the roll result too, please xD
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