Fable - Ask The Last Day

[Fennec]

Having been minding her own business and passing through the area, the sudden uptick in volume of the discussion on the nearby sparing court caused Fen to pause.

She made a face at the pair of them, Zale and Kristen. Gross. On all accounts.

 

[Delaney Lennox]

Delaney had been in her thoughts when she heard her name. She had not been listening to Kristen or Zael so she was completely caught off guard when he requested that she come lick Kristen's foot. She made a face and sat up to glare at the boy she considered a friend.

"How 'bout you go fuck yourself, Zael!" She replied with a roll of her lavender eyes. "You're an idiot!"

 

[Kristen Pirian]

While Zael laughed it off, swiping a hand (Ahh, you!) in Delaney's direction, Kristen breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't especially want to be seen as a Humorless Helen (a Weiroon noblewoman with whom Mother had an icy relationship), but sometimes mirth could tiptoe a little too close to the uncouth.

"Can't say I never tried to do anythin for ya, Del," Zael called back. And then specifically to Kristen he said, "You think your feet taste like strawberry cream? That's my vote."

"I think you are putting a concerning amount of thought into this."

Zael smacked his forehead with the heel of his palm. "Kress! It's called bein absurd, Kris. I swear, the best part about graduatin is probably gonna end up bein that I can find people with an actual sense of humor out there. You'll be goin crazy after just four years, mark my words, and you're gonna be thankin Aionus or whoever that you weren't here for a full twelve."

Defensively, with the thought of Humorless Helen in her head, Kristen said, "I...erhm...I can be fun!"

Zael grinned. "Sure you can. Just need to get a few tankards of ale in you. You're like a wildcat when you're drunk, you know that?"

Kristen stiffened, vividly remembering the aftermath of the Drunken Mess in Vel Yuna but not much of what came prior. "Uhhh...I, um..."

"Yeah. A wildcat that can't decide whether to hug someone or sling the raunchiest insults this side of Alliria at them so just does both. Honestly, if you tossed indiscriminate punches into that mix you'd be the perfect drunk."

With no true defense, all Kristen could say after a moment's consideration and a conceding smack of her tongue against her teeth was, "Ale...is not my drink."

Delaney Lennox

 

[Fennec]

Lingering at the side of the arena, Fennec peered upward at the two squared-off Initiates with a brief lapse of outward curiosity. She'd shared some classes with Kristen, but mostly she'd seen her moving with the graduating class. Much talk of graduation had, as it always did, begun to filter through the Academy halls. Seemed everywhere she went there were whispers of what the senior class thought might become of the old graduation tradition.

Ting-ting! went her little silver bell.

Fennec had silently arrived at the edge of the ring and waited for Kristen to look her way before lifting her hands and cutting her words.

[You graduate] with the inflection gesture of a question.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Before Zael responded, a motion in Kristen's peripheral vision captured her attention and she looked and there was the small form of Fennec (she was so adorable, just like Liza). She signed a quick question. Quite the good thing that Kristen had redoubled her efforts to learn the Dreadlord sign language! The question came through as clearly as if Fennec had spoken it.

"Not I, no," Kristen said. "Still have I some two years or so on this experimental training regimen that I am on. Whilst many familiar faces shall be departing, now is most certainly not the time for me to become lax in my efforts."

Hm. Was there ever a time for it?

Fennec

 

[Fennec]

Given Kristen's enormous height, she seemed older than she apparently was. That she still had two years came as something of a strange curiosity to Fen as it solidified the notion that Kristen was, in fact, part of her own year. And while Fen was not the oldest of her own peers, she'd likely been here the longest out of all those in her year.

[Never time for that,] Fennec replied, small hands cutting her message with quick precision before her pale gray-green gaze shifted to Zael, [they will make you fight] question mark?

 

[Zael Castomir]

"I fuckin wish," Zael said, spinning his practice sword about on a finger before catching it firmly in his grasp again. "They can check the killin on the other side of Revolution, that was—"

His normally casual and jovial demeanor hardened for a moment into a grimace of blazing contempt and he shook his head. Whatever went through his mind, he dismissed it there and then, and his more cavalier nature returned along with a smile.

"Yeah, I'd love for a big fight or two to be the capstone to all this. Maybe they can rank us on how well we do or somethin, give us a pat on the back, and finally send us the fuck on."

Fennec

 

[Fennec]

Though small, Fennec's posture lengthened as she leaned into the consideration that the Academy would break tradition and leave death on graduation day out to pasture. Her brow furrowed and painted face pinched in rejection of the idea, gaze glancing back off to Kristen before refocusing on the white-haired one sitting off to the side.

[Death is home here] her hands answered back to Zael at length, [expect it. Be ready.]

Because even if the people beyond the Academy walls had changed the rules, it didn't mean the people within the walls intended to listen. There was a reason the survival rate of her fellow Initiates on missions with her was lower than usual.

She then looked to Kristen and gestured at her training sword, [Me.]

 

[Zael Castomir]

"Born ready," Zael said.

And then he smirked.

"But it's probably gonna be a written test."

Boy, would he laugh his ass off though if Little Lilly was right. Finger painting. Tell you what, fucking nobody would see that coming. And if Fen's face was any measure she'd graduate with honors, heeeey, ain't that something?

Fennec

 

[Kristen Pirian]

A year ago Kristen would have balked. Probably even a couple months ago, before the Festum Libertatis festival, she would have balked still.

Now, as Fennec requested a spar, Kristen nodded and said levelly, "As you wish." Only in recent times had Kristen begun to try her skill with the sword, feeling out its intricacies over the mace. Each spar, each loss, brought with it something new to learn. As Alistair had said, focus on her failures, learn from them.

Kristen assumed a low guard stance.

Zael, as ready to watch a fight as he was to be in one, took a few steps back and said, "Catch," as he tossed his practice sword to Fennec.

Fennec

 

[Fennec]

A gloved hand shot out to snatch the sword though no eyes followed to see it. A single fluid motion swung the sword forward, flipping it to right her grip. Fennec gave the implement one test swing to find the weight and balance and then without any warning whatsoever moved straight from that flourish to striking out at Kristen in a downward arc toward her thigh.

She moved like a viper: fast and direct.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

The low guard was the right stance with which to begin.

This, however, was the extent of Kristen's luck. Her sword was in position to deflect the first strike down at her thigh, yet Fennec's speed was alarming. The one thing through all of Kristen's new swordfighting practice with Graham and with Zael—and really through all of her martial training—was just how fast a fight truly went. This even without magic like Zael's Fireblood or Proctor D'Amour's Acceleration. The speed of it all was constantly disconcerting, and it was difficult indeed to keep a level head.

But Kristen had gotten much, much better at it, controlling her ruinous impulse emotions and staying focused, but still she had a ways to go to reach the level of an adept, let alone an expert, further still a master.

Often she found herself on the defensive, losing ground, struggling to keep up and unable to muster an offense of her own.

Here was little different.

Fennec

 

[Fennec]

Fennec gave no quarter, taking the blocked strike in stride. She pivoted, and moved for another downward strike in the opposite direction, waiting for Kristen to stage another block. Her blade stuck this time and her free arm curled inward then upward in a blurring move that aimed to smack her opponent upside the jaw to discombobulate her senses with surprise.

If successful, she'd pivot again, hooking her boot around Kristen's ankle to try and pull her stance out from beneath her.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

WHAP. To the jaw. A flash of chaotic colors before her eyes, but that wasn't the worst of it: she scarcely had been expecting such a thing, using the practice sword as a bludgeon like that, and the split second of confusion which followed left her open.

Hook to the ankle.

Stumble back.

Down she went. Kristen felt the hard-packed dirt of the sparring arena and the wind evacuating from her lungs.

She, at least, didn't just lay there soaking in the mild thrums of pain. Awkward though it was, her hands moved independently as her mind reoriented itself, pointing her sword upward much like a porcupine's quill. She pulled her legs in close. Planted a foot on the ground. Prepared to shoulder herself up.

Fennec

 

[Henk]

To say Henk's feelings were mixed would be... generous.

It was surreal, looking out over the academy grounds from the rooftop of the dormitories for one last time. This place had created misery, pain, tears and regrets over the years he'd been there. However, so too had it brought joy, happiness, and for a few fleeting moment, even love into his life. A family, the only one he'd ever had. And tomorrow, it would all be gone.

Of course, it wouldn't be the last he saw of the place. Henk intended to study to become a Proctor, to help ensure that the next generation didn't face the same level of oppression that he and his brothers and sisters had. Even still, he could only think of the people he'd be leaving behind.

For so long he'd claimed that leaving behind his 'family' was something he couldn't do, but it was an excuse. In reality, Henk was afraid. Scared to be alone again.

The sound of footsteps on one of the walkways below him drew his eyes downward to Ralene as she walked towards the dorms carrying something in her arms. A small smile crossed his lips as he called down to her.

"Ral. Up here."

A small wave of his hand followed once she caught sight of him.

"What're you up to? Last minute prep?"

 

[Samantha Black]

If one were to ask where to look for Henk, the very last place Ral would ever consider would be the roof of the dorm building. Her steps came to an abrupt halt at the sound of his familiar voice, and briefly she looked around at the higher windows thinking maybe he was calling from a room a few stories up. Nope, further still her gaze climbed until it caught the movement of his waving hand.

"Henk?"

Ralene blinked and squinted up at him with a hand drawn to shade her eyes from the sun.

"The hell are you doing up there?"

 

[Henk]

It hadn't occurred to Henk that Ralene didn't know about his spot up there, but then he realized that only Kristen and Noel had ever been shown it. Instead of responding to her with another shout from up high, Henk stood carefully on the sloped surface, grabbed the old vine he had wrapped around a stone protruding from the wall and used it to carefully slide down.

When his feet finally touched the ground, he dusted himself off a bit and offered Ralene a sheepish smile.

"The window in my room opens up right where the ledge ends, so it's easy to climb up onto the roof. I like watching the sunset sometimes, when I'm thinking."

It also opened up a path to a shortcut out of The Academy, but for the sake of the next generation of kids looking for trouble, he'd leave that detail tucked away from the soon to be Anirian Guard.

"What are those things?" Henk nodded to the long tubes of material she carried in her arms. He wouldn't recognize them as sleeves just based on the fact they were so much more intricate than any others he'd worn.

 

[Samantha Black]

But of course. Henk watching the sunset. Why hadn't she thought of that? Honestly, it was so obvious now that he said it, and made some strange sense as her mind briefly wandered back to how she used to lump him into the crowd with Initiates like Chasmine.

The odd ones.

Chas, she knew, had her room up at the very tip-top of the girl's dormitory wing where the groundskeeper used to live. Her own window had provided the waif direct access to the roof where she secretly kept moss and plant gardens in the old eaves. Why did she know this? Because she used to go to Chasmine for pain relief and the girl never could keep her mouth shut about every little weird thing she did.

A half-amused, half-inquisitive look met Henk upon landing. Dark brow arched at him, she slid her gaze down to the leather bundles hung loosely over her arm, "Arm guards," she replied and looked back to Henk, the faintest hint of an actual smile on her face, "new prototype I just finished."

Ral lifted her arm and held them out to Henk, "Made them for you."

 

[Henk]

His gaze shifted from the sleeves slung over her arm and back to her as confusion creased his face. When she'd suggested back in Maraan that maybe she would work up something more viable for missions to keep his arms covered, Henk had taken it as a joke...

"Ral, that's..."

The sad truth of it was that it was probably the nicest thing anybody had ever done for him. Henk slowly reached out and took them, lifting them up and turning them, face fixated in no small measure of awe. "You didn't have to do that..."

Of course she didn't. She obviously knew that. Henk could be... well, dense, but he wasn't so oblivious he didn't see the gesture for what it was. Not wishing to waste her time, he slid one of them on over his right arm, pulling it up, while also trying to be as delicate as possible with the gift she'd given him...

"It's so much lighter than it looks, but I can tell it's sturdy." He rolled his shoulder a few times, testing his mobility as he looked at her with an almost incredulous expression. "And this is just a prototype. Guess that means I have to come see you for the finished product after Graduation, then..." A hint of a smirk played at his lips. "Thank you, Ral. Really. You're... something else. Any other secrets packed into it?"

 

[Fennec]

WHAP. To the jaw. A flash of chaotic colors before her eyes, but that wasn't the worst of it: she scarcely had been expecting such a thing, using the practice sword as a bludgeon like that, and the split second of confusion which followed left her open.

Hook to the ankle.

Stumble back.

Down she went. Kristen felt the hard-packed dirt of the sparring arena and the wind evacuating from her lungs.

She, at least, didn't just lay there soaking in the mild thrums of pain. Awkward though it was, her hands moved independently as her mind reoriented itself, pointing her sword upward much like a porcupine's quill. She pulled her legs in close. Planted a foot on the ground. Prepared to shoulder herself up.

Fennec

Fennec did not have the voice to use to pelt Kristen with verbal encouragement. Instead, she primed the much taller girl with her flourishes, nimble and quick.

Pay attention! said her sword as it swung to clip Kristen's presently sticking in the air while she floundered on the ground.

Get on your feet! it said next as a returning swing struck at her ankle.

Move faster! it yelled as it next cut back upwards and then swung down, intent for her shoulder.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Kristen weathered the incoming strikes with determination instead of the harried dismay characteristic of her first year.

Her defending sword was batted out of position while she thrust herself upward and to her feet.

The next strike missed her ankle as she moved back but clipped her toes inside of her fatigue boots. A sharp pain, the grandfather of all stubbed toes.

The third she actually caught. Horizontal guard.

Noel's words, often echoed in some form by many others: Don't hold back.

Whilst in the bind Kristen launched a savage kick toward the smaller girl.

Fennec

 

[Zael Castomir]

Zael, meanwhile, whistled at the quick exchanges, thoroughly enjoying the fight in many aspects.

The height difference was what made it so intriguing to watch. Normally, Zael would've looked down on somebody Kristen's height and mass fighting someone smaller than her. You should always strive to fight those your own size or bigger (never a problem for Little Fen, eh?).

But here was the kicker: Kristen dwarfed Fen in size, but Fen dwarfed Kristen in skill. That's what made this whole thing so hypnotic to watch. Turned the power dynamic on its head. Kristen had reach for days, could've probably ran circles around Fen with it if she knew how, but...she just didn't.

Well.

Everybody was in Kristen's shoes once.

 

[Samantha Black]

Gratitudes. Something Ral had never become accustomed to accepting gracefully. She brushed the kind words off with a sniff and folded her arms at her front. The way he handled it like a piece of tissue paper was nearly enough to incense the Initiate. Ralene leveled him with a stony, put-upon stare while he tried the right sleeve on before losing what patience she had and moving to his back.

"Right, it's sturdy cause it's armor, not a fucking ball gown," she gave it a sharp tug to pull the sleeve into place, "come on - put the other on so I can make sure it fits proper. I'll reveal its secrets once you're wearing it."

 

[Henk]

Henk winced, and then laughed as she pulled the sleeve down the rest of the way. If he didn't know any better, he'd think she was anxious to see how it looked. "Alright, alright. If I'd known you wanted to play dress up, I would have worn your favorite shirt." He teased, smirking as he slid the other sleeve on and gave his arms a quick flex. They were snug, but in a way that gave him full range of motion. Just how Henk liked it.

"I love them. They're perfect." He decided, eyes running along the surface of the left one curiously. "I'll be sure to put them through their paces for you. It'd be disrespectful if they didn't see any action, after all."

 

[Samantha Black]

Her favorite shirt... "Hmm... maybe later."

Henk wouldn't see the responding smirk behind him while she waited for him to slide the second sleeve on and pulled two strap ends on the backside of either sleeve to buckle together at his back just between his shoulder blades. Ral waited for him to test out the fit and movement before adjusting the back strap and moving to his front.

From the right sleeve she pulled another leather strap across the top of his chest, just beneath his clavicles, and hooked it into a quick release buckle on a shorter receiving bar at the left.

"The leather's been treated to withstand some moderate magic power with nullification resin, but it'll still burn and incinerate like any other leather so don't catalyze through them. These-" Ral took hold of Henk's left arm and held it up between them to point out the large, overlapping, scale-shaped layers that followed the length of his arm, "can be raised and lowered to allow more or less sunlight on your arms by using this tension crank up here on either side."

She tapped a flattened steel piece at the joint of his left shoulder and twisted it back to open the armor scales.

"And if you need to lose them quick-like, pull this tab here," Ral demonstrated the tab of the front strap just over his heart, "then just shrug em off."