In a cataclysm known as the Nightfall, the worlds were almost completely destroyed by a harrowing surge of darkness.
In the shadows of the ensuing chaos a new group has taken shape. Led by an Aegyl named Kalos, the 11th Hour touts an esoteric knowledge of how to combat the darkness and restore the worlds. They might be the worlds’ best chance at survival; but nobody really knows enough about them to confirm or deny their claims.
On the brink of collapse, the universe holds its breath in anticipation. Of restoration? Of destruction? It is up to individuals like yourself to decide.
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Ink didn't know why she came here today, but she found herself in the gardens, wandering around. She walked out of her house with the intention of practicing- she'd even brought along her longsword- but it'd be a shame to do so in the gardens. They were still beautiful, of course, so she couldn't really complain too much.
It was nice outside. It was quiet. Should she feel lonely? Perhaps. But she didn't. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more restless she was. The gardens were pretty but it doesn't work to just swing her sword at something pretty without reason.
She sighed, moving her eyes down to look at her jeans. They were dark, and in a few places she could see the beginnings of holes caused by the wear and tear. Her long-sleeved shirt was a plain black, and the sleeves were rolled up to her elbows. In a lazy fashion, Ink used the tip of her longsword to angle one of the flowers so she could get a better look at it. They didn't have flowers like these back in her world.
Saxen had taken to coming to the gardens to meditate. It helped him think, and, he figured, "if you're gonna sit and do nothing, may as well sit and do nothing among beautiful flowers." This one of those times. He brought his gold sword with him, just in case he decided to practice and, unlike normal, he had it on his left hip as he wasn't carrying his katana. Deathblade was sleeping in the back of Saxen mind, so he didn't have to worry about any interruptions from him, either. This promised to be a good meditation.
As he got into the gardens, he noticed a girl standing, looking at one of the flowers, tilting it up with her longsword. He went over to her and made sure to go around to her front before saying anything. He found it rude (and dangerous) to come up behind people, especially when they had weapons. So, he got in front of her and, smiling kindly, said "Hey, I'm Saxen. What's your name?" and put out his hand.
Sometimes, when Ink would stare at one thing for a certain amount of time, her train of thought would move on from the object while her eyes would stay in place. That's what happened, with the flower. The sun, reflected by her sword, was bright and distracting. She found herself tilting the sword this way and that, childishly amused by the awful glare.
But, someone was walking towards her. Or, they already had. The sunlight was no longer her main focus as it was replaced by the newcomer. She kept her head down, subtly tightening her grip on the hilt just in case. Not that she felt threatened, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. It took only a slight bit of effort not to grin at his question, until her eyes slightly widened and she couldn't help but wonder if she was really even being addressed. Without replying, she lifted her head to glance around, and over her shoulder. Seeing no one else around, she looked back at the stranger.
"Hello, Saxen," she started, grinning softly. But then she saw his outstretched hand. Shaking a stranger's hand in greeting wasn't really a custom in her world, but over time she's gotten used to such foreign quirks. So she reached out with the hand not holding the longsword. "My name is Alix, but most people call me Ink."
Brilliant. Her nickname always made for an odd first impression.
When the girl shook his hand, she seemed just a little bit nervous. Then she introduced herself. Saxen, out of habit, pocketed both names in his memory. Typically, there were names people used with friends, and names people had to use at social gatherings and the like. "So, Ink, right? Is something wrong? You seem just a little apprehensive. I'm not that scary, trust me." He said all of this with a smile, and did his best to look her in the eye. Then, he remembered her sword. Gesturing to it, he asked "How well can you use that?" His left hand rested on the hilt of his sword; he pulled it out, flipped it, and, catching it, held it out in front of him for a second before flipping it again and putting it away. "I was a soldier," he explained, "The heartless can be a bother, and so can other people, occasionally." Saxen looked around at the flowers and muttered something about how nice they looked, getting distracted for a second before remembering that he was talking to somebody. His attention snapped back and he waited to see what she would say.
"Nothing's wrong!" She said, grinning as she inwardly cursed. Ink felt her cheeks turn pink, but not from "Oh Merlin, he's talking to me!" but more because she never liked to be read like an open book. "You're not scaring me-"
They spoke at nearly the same time, and she trailed off when he pulled out his sword, flipped it, caught it, and replaced it.
"-Not yet, at least..." She somewhat muttered under her breath, instantly jealous of how he didn't drop the sword. If she tried something like that, she most definitely would. Her eyes widened slightly at his admission, and she suddenly remembered the soldiers from her world. Soldiers hated her family.
But, Saxen didn't seem like any of the other soldiers.
His comment about other people being a bother caught her off-guard. Did he mean she was a bother? That totally wasn't her fault! She didn't walk up to him to start a conversation now did she? No. But he wasn't acting like a toddler either, so she should probably stop doing so now. So far he's been nothing but polite, and she couldn't help but feel a bit ashamed of her thoughts.
"I'm, ha, certainly worse than you I'll bet." She said, glancing down to the sword in her own hand before looking back up at him. She shrugged. "But I know the basics."
Still, she was talking to an ex-soldier. The situation made her laugh, softly.
Saxen smiled at the things this girl said. She was pretty funny. At least, he thought so. The way she reacted to his asking if something was wrong was a big red flag in his mind. Usually, when people reacted that strongly, something's up, but, seeing as he didn't really know Ink that well yet, he decided to let it slide. Then, her comment of not being scared of him yet bothered him slightly. He hated it when people were scared of him. He'd had his times when he'd try to talk to kids and they wouldn't because they had seen him in battle. It always took him a while to get over it, but he figured she was just kidding and let it go.
"I'm, ha, certainly worse than you, I'll bet," she said, "but I know the basics. Well, that I know of."
Saxen nodded at the sword again and asked "Do you mind? I like weapons a lot, and I might be able to help you learn a bit more. I am a warrior after all."
She blinked owlishly at him, as if not understanding his question. His offer? It still surprised her, that someone was asking permission to help her, rather than her asking for their help. Ink swallowed down her childish question of "Really? Are you sure? You don't have to, but can you?" because that would probably scare him away.
But, he was far more experienced than her. She could work with magic brilliantly, but swords? Not her forté. But maybe...maybe that was then. This was now, and Saxen was offering his help without being provoked. Even if he was a soldier, she could always use her magic if things took a turn for the worse, right?
Ink looked up from her sword, and into his eyes. Usually, she can read others pretty well, which was why she hated when someone could read her. She didn't get any of those cliché 'something bad is about to happen!' feelings- well, unless the something bad was how badly she'd probably mess up in front of him.
"I wouldn't mind at all." She said, still trying to sort through her thoughts and say something that actually made sense. In the back of her mind, she recalled the effortless way he flipped and caught his sword and couldn't help but wish she could do the same. Without slicing her hand off, of course. "I mean, I don't want to be a bother or anything, but-" sheepishly, she lifted her free hand to scratch the back of her neck, "-I really do need to learn more if I want to help. Magic only does so much." She shrugged. There were exceptions to that, like Merlin, but seeing as how she wasn't anywhere near his level it didn't really matter.
As soon as Ink gave Saxen permission to see the sword, his focus shifted to it, though he did catch her saying thank you and he smiled. His focus quickly shifted back to the weapon, however, and he looked over the sword in a preliminary examination to decide exactly how he was going to handle the weapon. He gently took the sword from her hands, taking it, initially, in his right hand. He made sure to grip it near the guard. Then, he lightly swung it up, and brought it down in front of him, with the blade pointing up. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply in his nose and out his mouth as he brought his left hand to grip at the bottom of the hilt.
His eyes suddenly opened and he immediately moved into a quick series of swings. Using his right hand as a fulcrum and his left to provide the forces to move the sword, he swung the the sword down, twirled it to the right, over to the left, and made a swing to the right. He then stepped forward with his right foot into a lunge, brought his right foot around behind his left, and stepped around into another swing to the right. Without missing a beat, the sword then came up in a diagonal swing from near his right foot. The blade then slashed straight down and, bringing his left foot behind the back this time, Saxen came around in another spin attack, letting go with his right hand and letting the sword swing around to slightly behind him in more of a flashy move than a useful one.
Saxen closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and turned back to Ink, flipping the sword up to rest on his shoulder. "A lot of the trick is to think of the sword more like a lever than a stick. If you try to swing it as one big object, your movements are slow and clumsy, but if you keep a base point in one hand and apply most of your forces with the other, you get more fluid, and more powerful, movements for less energy. Like this." As he explained, he showed her where to put her hands and how to move the sword most effectively. "Chose which hand goes where based on comfort. I'm left handed, so I have my left hand do more of the work at the bottom, swinging the sword, while my right hand supports the weight. You'll just have to figure that much out on your own." He handed her back the sword and said "Why don't you try? We might could spar a bit if you'd like. It'll help you get the hang of it." He smiled at her and rested his hand back on his own sword.
It was odd, watching a stranger with her sword, even moreso because they weren't in the middle of a fight. She kept her eyes trained on his movements, though he wasn't really making many to begin with. When he paused, eyes closed, Ink didn't really know what to do. She blinked and suddenly, he swung.
Indeed, it took a bit of effort to keep from jumping back in fear, for her instincts were screaming at her to move before the blade caught her skin. Until she realized he wasn't even remotely aiming for her. Why would he? Saxen promised to help her, not run her through. He was silent as he moved, and while she couldn't keep the jealous feeling away she could justify it, reminding herself that he was far more experienced. So it wasn't really fair to compare the two of them.
"Hm." She replied, more of a sound of acknowledgement than a word. Don't treat it like a stick? The thought made her laugh softly, because she swore someone had told her that before. Obviously she didn't listen. This time she would, because this time, the threats were real.
"You're left handed, yes?" Ink asked, the question more rhetorical than anything. She remembered the way he held the sword; his right hand was higher up on the hilt, while his left was lower. With a grin she accepted the sword from his hands, immediately gripping it just as he said, only with her hands reversed. "Which means I'm right handed." The statement came as more of a question than even her previous question, since she already knew placing her hands as he had them would feel uncomfortable.
"You can laugh, you know." She told him, not even bothering to reply to his sparring offer. Mainly because she didn't know how to accept them, other than with a childish battlecry like she used to do with the other children. They never had to train to defend themselves, they just did it for fun. Which, she knew he was probably more familiar with the opposite. "I mean, unless we can use magic, I'm probably going to trip."
The more she thought about it, the easier it would be. She knew the basics, so it was just the fact that he used to be a soldier that was making her suddenly begin to doubt herself. But at least she knew how to laugh, even if she was the cause. Her shy expression was slowly replaced with her usual one, where her eyes glittered at the chance of having fun.
After Saxen handed Ink back her sword, she started asking some pretty silly questions. He laughed at them, but answered them anyway. In the back of his mind, he couldn't stop thinking she was cute, but he tried to ignore that and focus on helping her with her sword-fighting. Then, she kind of skipped over his sparring offer. He was slightly offended, seeing as sparring was considered an act of friendship and trust on his world. To refuse one was like saying "I don't trust you not to kill me and I don't want you to get better so you can live." Saxen tried to ignore this, but it was a little difficult, as it had been ground into his head while he was in Anhnyqueg.
His attention was caught once again, however, when she said "I mean, unless we can use magic, I'm probably going to trip."
"Magic's always fair game, but, for the moment, I think you should focus on learning to be comfortable with that sword," he replied. "So, are we going to spar, or not?" Saxen pulled out his sword and did the same flip with it he had done earlier, but, this time, he stepped back and, leaving his left foot forward, began spinning the sword in his left hand. With all of the practice he had put into this one move, the sword would appear to anyone watching as a gold disc hovering in front of him. Saxen smiled and suddenly brought the sword to a stop, holding it out so his arm and sword formed a straight 45-degree angle with his body. "Come on. Try and enjoy this."
She knew he was right, but it still made her feel like a child for even asking if they could use magic. Saxen offered to help her in regards to her sword-fighting, not spell-casting. Her grip tightened for a fraction of a second before relaxing again.
She could do this.
Right? Of course.
Without making a fool of herself? Probably not. The odds of that actually happening, of her not botching the whole thing up entirely within the first few minutes, made her snort. She watched, blinking owlishly as the sword in his hand looked just like a disc rather than a blade as it spun.
"Mhmm." She nodded, replying to his question as to whether or not they were going to spar. It was a late reply, but better late than never in her opinion. Ink wanted to roll her eyes at his last comment, and although the action would be done in amusement and not annoyance, she wasn't sure if he'd see it that way, considering the fact they hadn't known each other long enough to know the other's sense of humor. So she quirked one eyebrow instead, idly wondering if she seemed bored or anything to him due to his suggestion. Finally, she moved, shifting her weight as opposed to actually lifting her feet.
"En garde, mais non?" She asked softly, coining the classic French warning before fencing matches. Obviously this wasn't anything like fencing, but oh well. With a playful grin pulling at the corners of her lips, she suddenly charged, taking two large steps towards him and leaning to the right before pivoting to the left. She wasn't sure he'd fall for it, but it was almost like a habit now after sparring with children. She held her sword more to her left side, waiting until she was close enough to actually take a swing at him.
Mar 30, 2011 1:12:48 GMT -4
Last Edit: Apr 1, 2011 18:31:14 GMT -4 by firebird
Saxen heard her way of saying "let's go," and watched her movements. To him, it was obvious by the way her weight was distributed that she was trying to fake him out and she gave him plenty of time to react by charging in the first place, even if it was only a couple of steps. He quickly jumped to her left, swinging his sword up, with his only his wrist, to deflect her sword away from him just a little bit more. Saxen continued his movement, swinging his sword at her stomach, but pulling out before contact could be made, and stepped past her to stand a few feet behind her to her right.
Saxen faced her back in the stance he had started with. Keeping his defense ready, he began to correct her. "A skilled fighter will never fall for a fake. They read your stance and can tell where you're going to move. Also, never cover more distance than you have to in a single move. Slowly get as close as you can, then strike as quickly as you can. Like a cobra, or an alligator. Then, you want to follow with as many follow-up attacks as you can." He started spinning his sword again out of habit and realized "It might take a while to get her good..."
Children, that's who she sparred with some time ago, not seasoned warriors. Her moves might have been faster than others', but they were still basic. She tried to accept his ridiculously easy and quick block as gracefully as possible, but deep down a small bit of her snarled in his general direction. Ink slowly turned back to face him, the playful glint in her eyes fading as she took his words to heart. She wasn't insulted, so the fading glint was simply a sign of acceptance that this wasn't going to be child's play.
"Surely you don't mean stepping towards them." She said, tone light but her eyebrows slightly rose in question. Even she knew that, if she were to take one step in his direction, he'd be able to deflect anything she threw at him. So how, in a fight, was she supposed to slowly get close to him? The question was obvious in her eyes.
"Yes, I do mean stepping toward them. Try to make the movements as subtle as possible." He paused for a second as he tried to think if there was anything else she should know at the moment. Suddenly, he thought about something. "Also, it might help you to know that I'm a lot stronger than most people. And I mean A LOT." To demonstrate this, he took his sword and threw it up into the air. It went up and took a few seconds to come down and, when it did, Saxen failed to catch it by the handle and, instead, the blade caught him on the inside of his left arm. Saxen winced and let out a grunt, but nothing else. His arm was bleeding pretty bad and the pain woke Deathblade up.
"What did you go and do that for?!? I'm not healing you because you went and did something stupid!" Deathblade yelled in Saxen's head.
During Deathblade's yelling, Saxen's eyes glowed a deep, evil red and he grit his teeth. Suddenly, his mind was yanked back to the bleeding arm as he realized how much blood was dripping from his arm to the ground. He immediately ripped off his shirt and tied it around his arm as a bandage. It was quickly stained red. Before he took off the shirt, though, he formed the top of the bodysuit without the lower arm parts. He knew that he'd be fine and would be able to continue their match, but odds were that she wasn't used to people slicing through their arms and being okay.
Apr 23, 2011 17:43:21 GMT -4
Last Edit: Apr 25, 2011 21:04:24 GMT -4 by firebird
What an odd suggestion, to try subtly approaching her opponent before attacking, but Ink took the words to heart regardless. She adjusted her grip on the sword's hilt, still listening as Saxen continued to speak. Her eyes followed the motion of the soldier's own weapon as he tossed it into the air, and...
As it sank into his arm. Or merely sliced him. Either way, there was blood and Ink was pretty damn sure that wasn't part of his exhibition. If it was, it made him a fool, one whom she'd never listen to again because wounds like this were not okay, and mondieu,ils'estcoupéils'estcoupé! (My God, he cut himself, he cut himself!)
But was he someone she should heal? The question echoed through her mind, and Ink froze mid-step on her way towards the bleeding soldier. Based on the past few moments she could indeed consider Saxen to be trusted enough to heal. But instinct held more sway over the gyspy than a small sparring match; Ink tightened her grip on the sword and locked her gaze unto his wound.
"As-tu besoin d'aide?" She asked, not realizing that the question was in French. She shook her head and tried again. "Do you need help?"
If so, she could probably cast Cura and he'd seal up just fine. Unfortunately, instinct continued to elaborate on how the man was a soldier, and didn't he just tell her that the best way to attack was to get close to her opponent without them noticing? Ink mentally kicked herself for thinking Saxen was capable of such a horrible ruse, because nearly slicing his own arm off to prove a point took things more than a step too far.
