ProfetessaOscura
-
Posts
901 -
Joined
-
Last visited
-
Days Won
3
Content Type
Profiles
News
Forums
Blogs
Gallery
Events
Everything posted by ProfetessaOscura
-
He winced slightly. "I'm probably coming on a little strong, aren't I? You just got here. You probably want to fight some more and figure out classes. Um. If you want, we could meet in the cafeteria?" his voice sounded hopeful, but then he threw up his hands. "Not-that-you-have-to, but if you wanted- or- I dunno, were bored or something-" he fumbled on the floor to try to find his glasses again.
-
He rubbed at his cheek. "We could- uh. Fight again. Or pick a new partner. Or take a break and get lunch?" He stuck a hand out. "I'm Corwin."
-
He immediately threw his glasses off his face and rubbed his palms into his eyes. "Crap, my eyes were open! I think you froze them!" He blinked, and fortunately was just being melodramatic. It had hurt, though, quite a bit. "That-" he said, sounding angry, but he quickly stopped. He instead smiled, then looked up. "That was brilliant! I really screwed up when I asked to fight you, huh?"
-
"Free his head and ribcage immediately," Vespyr advised calmly, "The match is yours, but this is only a training session." The boy was frozen, eyes wide, and the ice shifted slightly, as though he were struggling futilely from the inside for breath.
-
"That's not how this works," he said, fumbling slightly. He quickly stepped up, back onto solid ground and off an icy patch. He raised his hands again and went on the offensive, coming in with quick, sharp punches.
-
He staggered, stumbling on her ice, and fell down to his knees. He held his a arms vertically, protectively, in front of his face. Cadenza heard the wind around them cut a soft voice from nowhere. "Good job maintaining your balance. Your opponent is faster than you and difficult to hit, but you have the perfect ability to stop him in his tracks. You are using your ability to increase your own skill, but that's just making things more difficult. See if you can't use your ability to stop his advantage instead of trying to match his." It was a vague hint. Vespyr wasn't going to give all of the answers, of course. The boy, too, had cocked his head to the side, as if he was listening to advice as well.
-
It was a time consuming move, and fortunately for him, he wasn't absolutely inept. He turned his body and sidestepped backward. Her fist grazed across his stomach instead of landing squarely. With his ability, he had to be more dexterous if he wanted to last in a fight. He simultaneously stuck out an arm in front of her face, so her own momentum might send her crashing flat on her back.
-
He clenched his jaw, and a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. He nodded curtly, and pushed his glasses up one more time.
-
He blocked it with his forearm, then stepped up into her, lifting a knee into her stomach with some force. The snow itself didn't stick to him or crush -it did crumple slightly, but the snowball nearly rolled over his skin. He got very slippery, for even a snowball to remain mostly unmarred. "Take me seriously, please! I can't learn if I don't fight for real."
-
The boy threw a half-hearted punch.
-
((Understood))
-
He blushed again. "Both is good?"
-
His jaw tensed. “I can make it hard to hit me. When I get my heart poundin’, my skin shifts somewhat and things like punches or blows slide off me instead of stick. It’s why I always ask scary or pretty people to fight, so I get real nervous.”
-
He blushed, again. “Tellin’ ya would put me at a disadvantage,” he said quietly, “will you tell me yours, too?”
-
He nodded. “O’course,” he said, voice showing more of an accent as he gained confidence. “I’m using mine now.”
-
The boy pushed his glasses up. "Right- yes." He pursed his lips together, then waved his arms above his head. As if reacting to the motion, Vespyr absentmindedly waved a hand, and a ring of wind started up around the two. "I'm not very good," the boy said, "but I think I'm picking up some tricks," he explained, lifting both hands in a physically defensive stance, like a boxer.
-
"N-no, it looks good- I mean fine- I mean you're- the wind doesn't really-" he buried his face in his hands.
-
His entire face flushed a brilliant scarlet, and he stammered, then regained his composure, running a hand through his messy hair. "Just out of the way of other people, and the Siren will put up a guiding wind."
-
((Wanna be the ethics and morality teacher/coucellor?))
-
A boy approached her timidly, a mess of bright ginger hair. He had great round wire glasses, freckles, and his lips quivered in a clearly uncomfortable way. His voice was small and timid. “Would-you-like-to-spar-with-me?” He asked, speaking too quickly. A flush of rosy color shot to his cheeks. Embarrassment.
-
Vespyr did not have eyes, fortunately for her, and she had changed her clothes. It wasn't like he memorized the depth and features of everyone's face using wind; he mostly knew people by their voices. He might know her, eventually, from her former condemnation of him. Still, he paused in confusion. He had no idea how someone could waffle to a location. It took great skill, talent, and innovation. Clearly, he was to train a master in their own right.
-
Cadenza found herself ushered into a great open auditorium, much like the ancient coliseum, albeit on a smaller scale. There were about ten matches currently going on, with young and old facing off. Strangely, the wind was different here... as if... there was a ring of wind around every fighting pair, dancing around them. Vespyr wasn't immediately able to be spotted, but Cadenza saw him eventually, at the head of the 'classroom,' seeming distracted as he spoke animatedly with a few higher up city officials. Things weren't settled here, not at all. People were disturbed at the conquering of a city in the matter of an hour, and the other nations and cities felt threatened, the fools. Some were threatening military action, but they had no grounds to stand on, as trade was continuing as normal. The actual nation that Serena was a part of had threatened military action to retake the city at first, but after the show of force where the building dissolved into the dirt, they were much more willing to begrudgingly allow the change in power, so long as Vespyr wasn't actively hurting people. That was the undercurrent message, though, that their indignant and outraged messengers shrouded with the outraged demands and explanations that what Vespyr had done was a vicious, vile, destructive declaration of war. Would they actually attack? No. They were too afraid. Vespyr, in a few short days, was already more well-liked than the former corrupt officials, the people themselves weren't terrified, and even those who had initially fled were returning to their homes. Sometimes, you just had to be a benevolent tyrant.
-
“Heavens, no. You’ll be fighting, and there are benches on the side for refreshments and resting.”
-
The woman blinked, raising her eyebrows. "Dear, the Siren is the only teacher currently at this school. We have a general or two willing to come out of retirement to teach strategy, but it is considered... well... an opportunity to learn under him. He is, after all, someone of great talent and skill." She had a dreamy look in her eyes. "If I were twenty years younger..." More like, if she were at least forty years younger. And if she was, maybe her eyesight would be improved enough to see just how disfigured Vespyr's face was.
-
The woman smiled, sugary. The wrinkles in her cheeks that tripled made it very clear that she was a smiler. "Let me just get you a registration form, and we'll put you in one of the Siren's classes," she nodded, rifling through some papers in a boxy shelf behind her.
