Learning to be Slower

May 16, 2015:

Fenris and Hawkgirl spar and talk

Halls of Justice

A large empty room in the Halls of Justice

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

Getting used to being slower than you used to be… takes work. Fenris knows he's not super likely to recover his divinity in the immediate future. Which is why he's in the process of retraining. He knows how to fight. He's got near two thousand years of experience doing it. The muscle memory's all there. But getting used to only being as fast as a very fast human takes some doing. He does have a slight advantage in this in that he's used to holding back for the sake of his disguise. So it's not as if he's never done this.

He's in one of the open rooms in the halls, going through blade forms with a long, two handed weapon.

***

Grease-monkey. That's what she heard people call her. Working on Valmorra most days and nights took a lot out of her, and when things weren't working just right, she needed to punch someone just to feel better.

It looks like now is that time.

She smelled of otherworldly oil and components, grease staining her pants and shirt, her boots thumping against the ground as she wipes her hands clean from the grease upon her digits.

"Ah. War Mount." She greets him, her brows furrowing a little as she watches him do battle with the nothingness. "You have been absent of late."

***

"I got taken and… rather maimed." Fenris looks up with a small smile. "How have you been Shayera? You scent… a bit off. Working on something perhaps?" He lowers the blade as she comes in, letting it hang on his left side.

***

"Taken? Maimed?" Her jaw tenses briefly as she takes a step forward, towel slung upon her shoulder as she lifts upon the tips of her toes to examine him carefully. "You should have called for help." A beat. "In fact, you should have been better." If that was her way of joking, it was hard to tell, she's always.. always straight faced.

"One could only hope that you pummeled them to near death, then spit upon their useless body." A beat. "And yes. I'm working on my ship that has been damaged…" She doesn't say by what. In fact, quick change of subject. "Let us spar."

***

"Sparring sounds about my speed right now." Fenris knows Shayera's a warrior but he's never had a chance to test her. She often seems… well, she seems like someone who likes to spar. The Old Wolf raises his blade in a low guard, handle below his waist, tip angled up. German Long Point, or that's what it's called today. Back then it was simply the way people fought.

***

"Good." Shayera tosses the towel aside as she draws herself back and away, out of arm and spear tips length. Her own hand draws out, the pool of Nth flickering against the palm of her hand as the staff that she usually would carry manifests within her grasp. Both hands smooth the length, her eyes darting left and right to take stock of the room, her own feet parting with one in front of the other.. a crouch placed upon her knees.

"Rules of engagement." She starts, but if there were none? Game on.

***

"Try not to kill me. Or break me too badly." He has magic. Minor and moderate injuries he can heal without too much trouble. "Otherwise, let me see your measure. I know you to be a warrior." He wants to see what she's made of. They'll be working together after all. "Engarde!" And with that he moves in. German long point works 'from the bind' so once his blade makes contact, it doesn't leave, instead trying to control her weapon with his own.

***

"You're expecting a breaking?" Shayera muses, a grin plastered upon her face as she takes a step back once more, bracing herself against the impact of his long point which slides easily against her metal. She holds it still, fingers clenching hard, allowing a bit of motion before she steps into the weapon and turns, attempting to sweep at the back of his legs to bring him down to the ground upon his back.

***

"I'm a bit more fragile than I used to be." Fenris quips and then his lags are taken out from under him. He rolls left and back, resuming his feet in time to throw his blade into a high guard and then rain a series of blows down open Shayera, aiming for her head and shoulders.

***

"Tell me exactly.." Fenris was still fast, so she steels herself, her hands jutting out with the rod to catch hits, her head twisting this way and that to avoid being knocked asunder. "..what.." It wasn't fair really, he was a lot taller than her. "..happened.." But yet he catches her, right upon the sweet spot where shoulder and neck meets, her body doubling forward as she tries to tuck and roll to the other side of him. Fragile? That.. fecking hurt.

***

"A necromancer ripped most of my essence away." Fenris says, concentrating. He still has experience. The ability to move quickly from attack to defense and back makes him seem faster than he actually is. He tries to press his advantage, shoving the pommel in hard toward her gut before exploding upward in a crescent sweep. "And now he has most of my power. Which has left me rather weak."

***

The tuck and roll was followed through, Shayera still moving even though he presses the advantage, dashing towards him only to be caught right in the gut which draws her forward again, yet bringing the staff forward to block the sweep that causes her to stumble sideways. She fans her wings, turning in a slight twirl to smack him with, followed by a return thrust against his own belly and a hopeful sweep of his legs with the staff in one go. She was.. going easy after all.

"Do you need avenged?" She asks through it all.. would he die without most of his essense? She wasn't sure.

***

"I need it back, certainly." Fenris grunts as he's caught in the gut and then knocked off his feet again. He goes down heavily, this time flipping himself up in that 'instant stand' maneuver eastern martial artists are renowned for. A bit slowly. He grins. "Good hit." And then he's pivoting left and sweeping his blade in at her chest.

***

It was coming together.. she was sure that the War Mount could best her easily in combat, but yet.. this was it. This was the shell of the man that was left and in a way, it was pretty sad.. from what he once was.

Once he was down, and up.. that staff draws upright to block the hit to her chest, the Nth snapping back into her hand as she dismisses the weapon, yet that reach is one that brings her close enough for her to grasp at the shirt upon his shoulders to lift and knee his chest, her body leaning forward to try to drop him yet again.

"Will you die without it?"

***

Fenris turns as his blade rebounds, using the momentem to switch directions. She knees him once, knocking the air out of him. As she leans forward he falls back, tucking his legs in to throw her over him. Or try anyway. "No, but I can be killed without it." QUite easly.

***

Her intention was to land upon his chest, but once he follows through with the fall, his legs pushing her up and over, her wings fan out to avoid damage, hands placed upon the ground in a slight roll into a stand. She turns them, holding her hand upright to stop the sparring session, taking a few steps back just in case he decides to be wily and strike again.

"Then tell me of this sorcerer. And we will avenge you together." And with other people, Shayera isn't a God.

***

Fenris rolls to his feet once more, but doesn't press. Instead he chuckles and lowers his sword. "His name is Master Darque and he is very, very dangerous. He is hiding his location, and I am positive he seeks yet more power to augment what he has already. His allies and lackies will be on the move. And I suspect they'll be the best way to trace back to him."

***

"Master Darque?" Shayera's brow furrows lightly. "Hmh. Uninteresting." But, she listens to the brief plan carefully, her brow drawing upright as she lifts a hand to examine her nails.. "I'm not a fan of footwork. I rather get to the battle. Call me when it's time to fight." Her tone was light, completely joking, the few steps taken forward rather quickly as she draws her hand back to strike towards the apex of his chest.

***

Fenris lets out an oof and grins. He leaves the blade aside. "I don't know. I liked what I saw of your footwork just now. You seem quite practiced in it." He raises his hands in a defensive stance with a grin. "I'm curious though, about the wings. They're part of you, aren't they?"

***

"Quite. But from what I've heard of you, you've had a millenea of training and yet, you let me best you twice to the ground." She gestures towards the floor, her own hands drawing up to curl into a fist. The question of her wings causes a red tint to grow upon her cheeks. She hated him instantly for that, but with a slight turn and a lowering of her shoulders, allowing him to see the way that the wings were connected to her body.

"Of course they are, why do you ask?"

***

"I remember hearing, long ago, of people with wings in the lands of ancient Egypt. But when I went to investigate they were long gone, if ever they'd existed. I'd wondered a long time about it. Then I heard of you." Had here people been to this sphere before? Fenris wonders. "As to the other, I'm getting used to being slow. The sparring's helping."

***

His words took her aback for a moment, there was a time when she was there.. with the bird Corvinus. And they were friends. The guard that she holds up was dropped for the moment, another few steps taken back as she turns to search for the towel she left upon the floor. "We've existed then as we do now." She states, her lips forming into a thin line. She wanted to focus upon him instead of her own people.. but, it was a bit too late. But.. if the sparring was helping.. then why not do more?

"Perhaps we shall meet weekly, until you return to being my War Mount."

***

The Old Wolf chuckles. "I'd like that Shayera. Shall we continue today? I get the feeling I may have accidentally… well as the mortals here say 'stepped in something'. You've the look of osmeone with sometihing on your mind?" He goes to get a drink and towel himself off.

***

The mood was lost for the Thangarian, her head slowly shaking as she follows close behind him, favoring water as well. "You stepped in something?" She asks, leaning back a little to catch sight of his feet to make sure that whatever he stepped in, wasn't tracked upon the floor.

"Oh.. yes." She confesses, stopping towards the nearest wall to lean against, one foot drawn up to press as her arms fold about her chest. "I don't believe I've ever mentioned to anyone outside of these walls that the Corvinus and I used to be friends. And if I did, I have never mentioned in what capacity."

***

Fenris takes a drink and then squirts water over his neck and back, shaking himself. "Corvinus… ah. Jim." Fenris has met the guy. Looked in on him shortly after he 'arrived.' "Do you feel like discussing it?"

***

"Yes and no." She states, watching him in a brief daze.. her head tilted faintly towards the side as she re-focuses. "Part of the reason as to why you couldn't find where my people were, is because of him." It was really because of her. "There were only two of my kind that were shipwrecked here long ago. And he guided them throughout the years, teaching them, helping them help the people of this planet. I am unsure of their demise.." She lies. ".. but they were the last and Corvinus played a small part in their deaths." Small part, because she didn't listen.

"That is all, but I have known the demon bird since I was a little girl." Long, long, long time ago. "And you, War Mount. I've divulged a secret of mine and you must tell yours."

***

Fenris chuckles. "Our new guest here, the God of Thunder, is my uncle. My father is… not his favorite brother, and he and his kind threw my sister and my brother into exile before imprisoning me, long long ago. It was to escape that that I came here to what you call Earth and they call Midgard. I'm… uncertain how things will play out now that he is here."

***

Shayera had been on Terra for too long, she nearly adapted their expressions when it came to disbelief. "Wait a minute." She states, boosting herself from the wall. "Pick up the phone and hold it." She even holds up a hand. "God of Thunder? Thor?" She even jerks a thumb back over her shoulder.

"That asguardian woman is your.. uncle?" Christ. Does Fenris have the liquor that the man brought to the party? One could only hope. "You have got to be spilling feces…"

***

"That guy yes. And as for the mead…" Now the Wolf starts to grin. "I've kept some over the years. I know how to make it. The parts aren't easy to get but… I have a stash. I'd be happy to share…" He hasn't seen what Drunk Shayera is like but… how bad could it be?

***

Really bad. She tried to smooch Superman and attempt to steal him from his girlfriend. She even sang an ol' sea shanty to the masses. And possibly threw up all over herself.

Her hand lifts to smack hard against the surface, resolve written clearly within her features. "Then we must drink. And then you must share your secret in making such a brew. And then we will fight and drink and be merry!" Whelp, it looks like finding that Master Darque is on hold. Drinking was obviously more important.

***

"I'll teach it to you." Fenris grins, gesturing for her to follow him. Good luck finding the ingredients but he'll give out the recipe. "And then we can fight some more. You'd get along well in Asgard I think…" Better, he suspects, than among the Amazons…

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