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When It Rains {open}; Late Summer 2767
Topic Started: May 3 2018, 12:52 PM (48 Views)
Artemis
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Wingrider
It was a little embarrassing to think that she was still not a very talented swordsman. In the few Turns that she had been at Semaca, throughout all of the physical lessons and the ongoing training, she still barely managed to parry her brother’s lazier attacks. He was quicker than her, true, and somehow a much more instinctive fighter.

And that was why, in the cool gloom of dusk, as the smell of rain grew thick and heavy in the air, Sylki had pinned up her curly locks and took to a training dummy with fierce reproach. She knew there was no one to blame but herself, but it felt good just to unleash a flurry of awkward blows on the poor, unresisting strawman.

After a few minutes of uncontrolled striking, Sylki relented. She sighed as the first few heavy drops splashed her face and hair, tilting her head. One-on-one tutoring with a sword had some benefit, but there was little time for the Candidatemaster to spend on each individual candidate. Sylki was expected to pursue training outside of lessons and hours, but it had taken her a while to swallow her pride.

Still, she hadn’t quite gotten to the point of feeling comfortable enough to ask for help. That seemed rather like a very obvious and poignant shortcoming of her own. Perhaps if Gred suddenly turned up, or a quieter, meeker candidate appeared that she could nag to teach her, then her pride could be salvaged somehow.

Not that it mattered. She heaved another silent sigh as the sky above her cracked and resonated with thunder, a lightning strike somewhere on the distant horizon. Nobody in their right mind would want to train in this kind of weather. She took deep, gulping breaths of the fresh, wet air and let the feeling of sodden clothes and dripping locks comfort her. It was nice to be miserable sometimes, and it was even better when the weather matched her mood. Oddly, her misery was matched by a fierce, unbridled joy and freedom. At least the rain didn’t judge her for being bad- she could just be whoever she pleased, alone out here in the training fields.
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Arcane
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It was raining which meant Magmeth was long gone, back to their weyr where it was warm and dry. But Varda remained. She had so much to relearn. Someday, she would defeat R'tan and wipe that smirk right off his face. She just had to keep trying and not do as he wished and rely on his teachings alone. He was a fine fighter but she'd been better...would be better. It just needed time.

She wasn't the only one out that day. There was also a candidate there, busy swinging her own sword. She was clearly a novice, probably new to the weyr and its demands. She was also lovely, with even tan skin, richly curled hair and an elegant build.

Varda didn't bother her. She wouldn't want to be disturbed by a too-big, too-ugly brownrider who couldn't even fight properly anymore. She tried to keep her grunts quiet as she struggled to reproduce the swings and moves that had seemed so effortless when she had her left hand.
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ArthropodEyes
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Weyrling
Gred was bored. He'd set aside the day for a flight over the surrounding area, as much to get out of the weyr as to see if anything new was developing nearby. But it was raining; so much for that idea. Cold and damp was not Gred's idea of a good time. He'd already filched sweets from the kitchens, peered into the dining area and the various common spaces to see if anyone was talking about anything interesting (they weren't), and shuffled and reshuffled his Semaca notes.

His annoyance must have conveyed itself to Lyuuth even while the dragon was napping, because a soft rumble echoed in his mind, "I think you should go outside anyways."

Gred was getting ready to snap back with a grouch response when Lyuuth continued, "That nice candidate girl who helped scrub me down at the lake? She's out doing some kind of exercise."

So it was that a few minutes later, Gred found himself sitting under the shelter of one of Lyuuth's wings watching Sylki bat at a straw target in the rain. He waited for a break in the drill, tilted his head just so, and called out "What's up, good-looking?"
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Artemis
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Wingrider
The rain didn’t blind her, as much as Sylki might have wanted to deny her own failure. The quiet work of another woman drew her eye, and as much as she felt alone, she knew the training grounds saw many different kinds of Weyr inhabitant. This one in particular seemed to be relearning the steps to an old dance she knew. Her swordplay was hindered by an unresponsive arm, and Sylki cocked her head as she studied her. Her footwork showed her heavy right-favour, speaking more than the strike of her sword. Still, there was talent there. Sylki might have been bad, but she sadly wasn’t new to swordfighting. The candidate had training, even if she didn’t have skill. She saw Varda not for an intimidating warrior-woman, but for a recovering veteran whose knowledge far outstripped her current level of ability.

Gred’s voice- sudden and surprising- startled her from her thoughts. She whirled around, tilting her head once more, wet curls sticking to her face. With a growing smirk, she sheathed the sword and closed the distance between them with a purposeful steps. “Speak of the rider and he shall appear. I was hoping to run into you again.” She paused before Lyuuth, inclining her head. “Hello, handsome blue. Been keeping well?” Sylki let honeyed charm seep into her voice, raising a hand as if to pat Lyuuth, but pausing before her fingers brushed hide. She didn’t want to seem too forwards, not yet at least.

“Do you know the rider out there? She fights with unrelenting assiduity, and I need a teacher.” Hanging in her final words was a note of shame, an echo of her failure. Sylki’s gaze had hardened, and her hand had once more dropped to her side. Her smile had all but faded away, and she brushed a few curls behind her ears- an attempt to keep her vision clear, made vain by the very nature of their stubborn frizziness.
Edited by Artemis, May 13 2018, 12:33 PM.
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Arcane
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Varda glanced up at the arrival of the red-headed bluerider. She hadn't been expecting an audience. There usually weren't many people here in weather like this, which had made it the perfect time to practice. She lowered her sword and deliberately took a sip of water. She didn't need them or anyone else seeing how much she had lost. Too many people knew already and they were strangers.

From the little she heard at a distance and over the patter of the rain, they appeared to be in a flirtation of some kind. It had always seemed unwise to her, riders and candidates. Soon candidates could be weyrlings, with all the restrictions that came with it, or they could fail to Impress at all and leave the weyr forever. At Benden, there had also been the chance that the candidate would Impress a color that made the match unsuitable.

But it never seemed to stop any of them. The heart wanted what it wanted and people did reckless things. Even she, who had never loved everyone, had once trailed a brownrider like a canine pup, only to learn he preferred men. She looked away and left them to it. It was none of her concern and perhaps soon they would be gone and she could train in solitude again.

Or at least the rider would leave and the candidate would return to her training. That she didn't mind. It was only the staring ones that bothered her.
Edited by Arcane, May 12 2018, 10:49 PM.
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ArthropodEyes
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Weyrling
Gred smiled as the candidate approached. She looked disheartened, and that tugged at his heartstrings in spite of his best intentions. On the other hand, he wasn't sure what his best intentions were in the present situation.

"Hey now, nothing can be that bad." He was responding to the tone of her words rather than the content. "No one's born an expert swordfighter out of the womb. And as it happens, Varda and I are in the same wing together. Let me introduce you." Not that he knew Varda particularly well, but they did do wing training exercises together regularly, so they weren't exactly strangers either.

Oddly, he was now almost cheerful at the notion of standing in the rain and getting wet. After scooting out from underneath his blue's wing and standing up, he noticed that Varda had stopped between forms for a water break. Perfect. Gred took a few steps towards her and waved in greeting. "Varda, do you have a minute? Sylki here would like to meet you."

He didn't notice Lyuuth, behind his back, curve his neck and make dragon-eyes at Sylki. Just as well.
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Artemis
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Wingrider
“Ha. I believe you on that point- but wait until you see me swing a sword…” Sylki muttered. It was a little bit embarrassing to admit to- although she was beginning to grow more comfortable around the redhead. He seemed friendly in a non-judgemental way, which was a nice change from her traditional family back in Keroon.

And then he spoke of knowing Varda, at least by name; before she could intervene, Gred had gone to call her from her training. A spark of guilt gilded her cheeks a light shade of red- barely visible beneath her tanned skin and the glinting sheen of the rain. “Lyuuth, your rider is going to get me into hot water, isn’t he…” Sylki mused aloud to the blue, stealing a moment to pat him affectionately before turning back into the rain.

“Hello, ma’am.” She bowed- not too deeply, as she wasn’t a formal woman by nature, but enough to show respect. “I am sorry to trouble you. I need remedial fighting lessons,” she steeled herself against the pang of worry and nervousness at her own failings, “and I… I think your knowledge of the sword is astounding. Even though you seem to be readjusting your positioning and footwork, your technique far outstrips mine. Would it be possible to study or learn from you, if you have the time to spare for a candidate?” It was an awkward line to walk- formal, without being stiff, and yet sincere in her words. It was unusual enough for Sylki to ask for help, so this sort of request was far out of her comfort zone.
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Arcane
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Varda looked up in surprise at the sound of her name. For most of her life, she'd passed relatively unnoticed when not speaking up. But it seemed losing the use of her dominant hand somehow made her more interesting. She couldn't imagine why else so many virtual strangers were suddenly so interested in her training.

She nodded politely, channeling her inner Magmeth as she said, "Of course, Bluerider. Hello, Candidate."

Sometimes, when she was feeling particularly shy or awkward, it was easiest to simply channel her dragon who was never at a loss for words. The stilted words and formal titles weren't her...but at least they were something.

Varda blinked as Sylki bowed and couldn't help laughing, "I'm not a Ma'am, Sylki. Just Varda. And thank you for the compliment but I know I'm mediocre at best. My right hand does not enjoy these exercises."

Perhaps a spar with a novice was what she needed. Someone who wouldn't have to hold back on her or stop constantly to offer corrections. So she nodded and said, "Maybe we can help each other. I fear my regular sparring partners far outstrip my current skill."
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Artemis
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Wingrider
As Varda introduced herself, Sylki relaxed a little. It was easier not to have to use titles, although it worked well when she needed to get something in particular. Her smile grew a little wider as Varda offered herself as a sparring partner. This was definitely an opportunity she couldn’t afford to miss.

“I would be grateful, although I am afraid that I won’t quite be up to measure. You might grow bored.” She chuckled a little, glancing at her sword-arm. Well, any chance to practice was a good one- even if she was readily beaten.
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