tushanshu_logs | July Catch All!

Entry tags:

July Catch All!

Characters:Date: JULY
Location: All over Keeliai
Situation: July catch-all
Warnings/Ratings: None, but possibly violence

A. Heather at the dojo

Heather starts going to the dojo in the early mornings, with her Spatha at her side. She's working mostly on forms, though if anyone wants to stop her and spar with her, she's more than willing to do so.

B. Heather at the Healer's Guild

Heather loves working a shift at the Guild, and will often pick up extra shifts here and there, because she's bored. But, she's got a gentle touch and likes learning about new herb healing.

C. Heather out and about

Heather can be found just about anywhere. She's going to be lurking around the Fire Sector, looking for houses of ill repute, to perhaps pick up a few nights worth of work.

D. Brigid at the shelter

With Erskine's disappearance, the running of the shelter has fallen to Brigid. And she doesn't mind it too much. She'd much rather answer to someone else, but until she finds someone to be the face of the shelter, she's it. Plus, it's cutting into her time with Jackie.

E. Brigid at the dojo

Brigid is getting back into Krav Maga. It's a nice routine to be in her mind. Plus, it means that she doesn't need to go running.

F. Brigid at the Hotel

Brigid can be found, most evenings, in the common area of the hotel, a few papers, a few books spread out around her. She's also got a huge book in front of her, as she translates. Other times, she's translating for someone else. But she's willing to be bothered.

G. CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE

Just let me know which one you want!

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They've been at this for a while, now. She's already panting and had worked up a sweat before Kylo had ever appeared. She can feel the crash of the blades all the way to her shoulder.

Kylo's one of the few that she gets to spar with actual bladed weapons with. Something about people being worried about injuries or something.

Whipping around, she aims a strike at his shoulder. "Most are said to be born with a sword in their hand." She admits. No way is she admitting to being over a thousand years old. "My father believed in a girl knowing how to defend herself." At least, she assumes so, being a Roman legionnaire and all.

"You say that like it is noteworthy where you are from," he notes, putting more pressure on her blade for a moment before he quickly steps back, out of her range again.

Today is not a day for the rage-fueled berserk fighting style which he employs in actual combat, submerging himself that deeply into the Dark Side would make it difficult to have the chat they planned.

"Do your people think daughters can't die by the sword as easily as sons do?" Although he has subjugated worlds where it was considered normal for men to protect the women, it's a foreign thought to him, having been raised on his mother's war stories.

"Men are more likely to die by the sword." She says, pressing her attack for a moment. "Since they are usually the ones fighting with them." It makes sense, in her mind. "However," she continues. "That doesn't mean that men don't kill women." She smirks. "Women are usually far more reasonable and less likely to step to death first, rather than negotiations."

There are things that she could say: that the way of the sword isn't as prevalent anymore, that to find someone who uses the sword is unusual and usually means that person is an Immortal.

Or at least has the potential to be one.

"Indeed. It only applies if the combatants refrain from targeting civilians. In my galaxy, such differences are rarely made." At least not by his side in the war. "Culling civilians can send a stronger message."

He matches her smirk with one of his own, twirling around to gain momentum and going for another slash of the blade. "But what does it say about the femininity of your mindset, if you fight like someone who has experience in doing battle?" He snorts. "Or should I ask, what does that say about your abysmal skills at negotiation?"

"Ah, where I'm from, usually civilians are to be cowed, not slaughtered." She remembers what the Romans had said to her and the children. So, that wasn't strictly true, but doubts going into a long explanation about her life will do either of them any good.

she actually ducks the slash, pulling back for a second and then catching his blade with her own.

"Just because we attempt negotiations first does not mean they are always successful." She points out, almost gently. "Most especially when we parley with men who see nothing but their next conquest."

He didn't even try to hide his snort of laughter. "That was a solid hit," he admitted, "you have wounded me." It was a far more precise hit than she could know, which did amuse him. Doubtful Heather would find it as amusing. People were terribly humorless when it came to the dirty business of war.

"But what is there to be seen other than the next conquest, when victory is far more appealing than the woman negotiating could ever be?" he asked lightly, and jabbed his sword at her a few times in a manner which was more playful than serious combat. "Not all of us are so easily swayed."

She snorts at him. She hasn't wounded him, yet. If he knew... well, he doesn't, and she needs to keep that from him and everyone else.

"Darling, that's spoken like a man who's never partaken of a woman." She points out. She pants softly, and catches his blade against hers. "Perhaps, you should do something about that. Then, you would truly understand just how appealing the negotiating woman is." She purrs at him.

He blinks, and there's half a second in which he falters. He's almost grown used to Heather flirting with him, but to be flirted with during a fight, even a friendly one... It's just so utterly outlandish and bizarre by every life experience he's ever made.

"Well-played," he mutters, and retaliates with a quick flurry of attacks. "It's spoken like a man who focuses on what is truly important in life. If partaking would make me vulnerable to weakness it shouldn't appeal to anyone. I have been taught to eradicate everything that is or could be a weakness." Kylo's lips twitch. "What about you? Do mercenaries believe in letting themselves be distracted?"

Allowing him his attacks, Heather keeps stepping back, smiling. She knows many things that dear, virginal Kylo doesn't. One; she can't die unless he's going to chop off her head. Two; he may want to remain virginal, but she's going to see to it that that pesky problem is taken care of.

"Partaking doesn't make you vulnerable, darling. It mere makes you aware of what else could be on offer."

She ducks a swipe and kicks at his leg, trying to trip him up. "It's not distraction if it's mutual and all the parties involved know what's going on." Heather shrugs one slim shoulder. "Honestly, it's fun. Much more fun than sword training."

He growls as he barely manages to step back in time, so her hit is only a glancing blow. "I'm not interested in fun," Kylo grinds out between clenched teeth, growing more agitated at her inability to understand. It is frustrating to come across someone who has skills so similar to his own, at least in physical fighting, yet comes from such a completely different mindset that they can't find even the slightest common ground. It offends him in some irrational way, like swordfighters should have some innate understanding. His attacks become stronger and faster with the rise of his emotions, he puts more strength behind every blow, barely remembering not to fight with the same ruthlessness as he does in actual battle.

"Fun plays no part in my life. I seek the power of the Dark Side of the Force, and to be worthy of my grandfather's great legacy." And make the galaxy tremble, though he can not speak of that to her. "Fun, or pleasure, are unimportant. Everything and everyone that proves a distraction is to be eradicated. I'm a Dark Jedi. You're not Force sensitive. You can't understand!"

Uh oh. Apparently, she hit a sore spot. Her blade clashes against his, letting him rain the blows down. She feels them all the way to her shoulder, and knows that he's stronger than her, and has the reach.

That, however, has never stopped Heather before. "Easy, darling, it's just a friendly sparring match." She tries to soothe whatever feather she's ruffled. "And no time for fun seems rather, well, imprudent." She dodges around him, panting, and keeps her sword at the ready.

Heather doesn't notice the cut on her arm that immediately heals without leaving a scar. She almost never notices the cuts on her body during a fight. It's after that's the problem.

"I understand not wanting to let go of rigid control. But having someone else in control of things can be fun, darling. Just think on that." She doesn't have a legacy to live up to, though.

Someone else in control... fun... He shivers, struggling to keep his thoughts from turning to much darker paths. He knows she didn't mean it like that, it's not like she knows what they are capable of, nobody here knows. "You talk like someone weak," he snaps. "I'll never let anyone else be in control of me, if I can help it."

His eyes narrow on her arm, he could have sworn he cut her... A quick glance confirms there's even blood on his blade, but she keeps moving smoothly, unhindered, and when their blades next lock, he gets a glance at the skin beneath her cut sleeve. Unblemished.

And here he had taken her for an ordinary human... He pushed back and brought some distance between them again, circling, ready to strike, but for the moment far more interested in what she had to say. "You have healing powers."

Heather blinks at the change in subject. "Actually surrendering to someone else's control in the context I mean can be the greatest strength." She shrugs her now uninjured shoulder nonchalantly.

But his comment about healing powers doesn't go unnoticed. She looks at her arm. "Something like that, darling." She's not about to explain her Immortality to someone who just a moment ago had been trying to take her head. Literally.

She circles with him, willing to let him take the lead.

Murder attempts are hardly anything to take as a personal affront, but he wouldn't be inclined to freely share his weaknesses either, nor such strengths.

Kylo Ren narrows his eyes at her, intrigued by the openly evasive answer. Most people here have been far more forthcoming, and the ones who weren't usually had something interesting to hide. "Something like that," he echoes, "some kind of magic then. I've seen plenty of these around here, but yours works remarkably fast." He lets something more predatory show in his gaze. "Would you heal a larger injury just as fast?"

There are many ways to learn more about her powers, but... He looks around, reminding himself they are in a public dojo and Heather is not from his world. Blank slates. Gotta remember that.

Instead of going for the vicious attack that tempts him, he just keeps up the prowling for now, remarking wryly, "I almost feel that if you get to use your powers, I should get to use mine. It would make the battle more interesting."

She raises her eyebrows. "You act as if I have a choice. The healing is passive, unless I get hurt, as you saw." She shrugs her shoulder. "I can't stop it from working." She wishes she could. She sometimes, that she could not be Immortal any more. Or she could walk down a street and not be able to feel others of her kind.

Mentally, Heather shakes away the thoughts. Instead, she lunges in and tests his defense.

"If your powers are just as passive, you're already using them." She points out.

With her attack keeping him busy, it takes Kylo a while to reply. The banter of swordplay is fun, relaxing even, now that it isn't an actual battle for life or death.

"Not the ones that matter." He can't exactly keep himself from feeling a warning through the Force if she is about to strike a killing blow, but. "If I were using my powers as I do in actual battle, you would know." Eyeing some discarded weapons on the ground, he is tempted to make a show of it. But that would reveal that he does have telekinesis, and so far only the ones who've witnessed his hotel fight with Rey know that. "I have some surprises left."

He smiles grimly. "But your healing is different." He narrows his eyes at her. "I wonder what else you have." Kylo picks up the speed, going on the offense again. "If I cut you deeper, would you still heal?" At home he wouldn't bother asking, but things are different here. So different and confusing.

Edited 2016-08-15 18:20 (UTC)

Would she know? Somehow she doesn't doubt his claim. But, she notices the glance to the side. This time, she tries to press back the attack, not merely take it. She's not a passive little flower to simply be mowed down in front of people. She wouldn't still be alive if she were.

However, she is pragmatic. Knowing that he's going to slip under her defenses - from sheer strength if nothing else - means that she has to do something different.

His question makes her automatically answer, mentally. Yes, she would heal. From that and from anything short of a beheading.

"What I have, darling, is a lot of skill, both in and out of the bedroom, if you'd care to test it." She purrs, then steps to the side and lashes out with a foot at his knee.

Later, he'll be cursing himself because that is the exact kind of trick he should have expected from her, it's not she hasn't been using flirting to throw him off kilter since day one.

But he's fully in the battle headspace, one which has no place for pretty women speaking of their skills in the bedroom, and when it comes it's just so jarring...

There's that second of floundering as he struggles to remember how one grips a sword and that's enough.

Pain explodes in his knee, he's howling and stumbling back, for the same battle instincts that had betrayed him now have him insist that the pain is to take down his guard for a lethal attack. Fury wells up in Kylo, genuine fury, the Dark Side is so easy to reach for. He raises his left hand to slam her into a wall, break bones, shatter... He forces his hand into a fist instead and braced on his sword, sinks to the floor. "Halt," he forces out.

She immediately halts. Panting, she lowers her sword and cocks her head to the side. Sweat beads her forehead, and she's tired. It's been a long time since she had a good hard sparring session with someone who wasn't trying to take her head.

She lays her sword to the side. No one will bother it.

"Here, let me see." Her healing is passive, and she does feel bad for having hit him so hard. Honestly, she thought their banter just a bit of sword fighting fun. Had she taken it too far? Or had she taught a valuable lesson?

"No!" he growls when she approaches, hand raised again to wield her off, though he doesn't use telekinesis. Not yet. But he's not trusting himself if she would try to touch him right now, or even only crowd him - too much in him is insisting that she is an enemy that must be taken down.

"Stay away." He looks down, breathing hard, his shoulders heaving with the force of heavy gulps. He hadn't been so out of breath during the fight, struggling with himself is an even harder battle, mostly since he has little experience with this fight.

When he looks up, he gives a sharp bark of laughter, though he doesn't sound amused at all. "My temper isn't the best."

Heather stops, knowing when to stop. She's not flirting, now. Now, she recognizes a cornered animal when she sees one. She's been one often enough in her life. Instead of stepping forward, Heather takes a step back, giving Kylo all the room he might need to calm that temper of his.

However, sometimes, she can't stop herself. "You know, darling, hate sex is a completely legitimate thing. But I charge extra for bruises." She smirks at him, wanting him to know there's no hard feelings on her side, at least. And she is sorry for hurting him.

That quip has him stunned right back into silence, his eyes a tad too wide because that just doesn't happen to him, people don't make jokes at him when they're so close to death... At least not unless they are Poe Dameron, but Heather's quips hold no hostility.

There's another laugh bubbling up in him, more startled than truly amused. He shakes his head. "You're so odd," he marvels, "you aren't even..." Well, maybe she doesn't realize how close he was to snapping, he tells himself. Nobody would stay if they knew. He picks himself up. "Don't mind what happened. It isn't important. I just..." He waves his hand dismissively. "I'm under control now."

To her, she's always walking close to death. Some upstart somewhere will get lucky one day, and she'll lose her head. Or, one of the few older Immortals will finally come out of "retirement" and come hunting heads.

"I'm not even what, darling?" She asks, curious. She accepts the odd comment. She knows that she's odd. Especially when compared to a youngster like Kylo.

Heather turns her back on him and wipes her sword before setting it on the coat that she's almost never without. "No, I believe we're done, for the time being." She says it gently, without heat at all. "Once a temper is engaged, sparring becomes something more and while you might not mind it, I'm not looking for a fight."

That does sound like the best plan, even if he's a bit disappointed to call the sparring match short, and on such a bad note for him, too. "I'll beat you the next time," he vows, "dirty tricks like that one work only once." Or maybe twice, since he's truly not used to it, but he's confident he will quickly grow used to it.

Kylo moves to put the sword away, though he glances over his shoulder to give her another confused look. "You aren't even upset. I'm used to people being frightened. They have good reason to. I didn't realize the mask and lightsaber make such a difference." Yet he can't picture her being scared, even if he wields his lightsaber. His eyes narrow with closer scrutiny. There's a lot about her which just doesn't fit for a young woman her age, be it her skill with the blade, or how she handles herself. "There's something... different about you. Are all people like you where you are from?"

She smiles, picking up her coat. Though it ended on a bad note for him, she learned quite a few things, especially about him.

She's not sure how well those things will come into play, but it can't hurt, now can it?

"Even with a mask on, darling, I wouldn't be frightened." The sword disappears under the coat. "A flare of temper doesn't frighten me." She shrugs a shoulder. "Everyone has it now and again and if they say they don't, they're lying."

Even she isn't immune to her temper.

His question draws a startled laugh from her. "Like me? No. Absolutely not." Her smile becomes wicked, and saucy. "I'm one of a kind, darling."

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July Catch All!

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ugh I'd lost the notif, sorry!

Not a problem!

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