[Flashback] Pirates! [Hawkins]

by **Isette** on May 4th, 2011, 6:41 pm

She had clearly startled the man. Isette jumped back when he turned, instinctively ready for a fight. Instead of an altercation, however, she had to bite back laughter. The contents of his bottle were spilling all over and he didn’t seem to notice at all. She watched with amusement dancing in her feline eyes as he tried to drink from the empty bottle, realized it was gone, and then snatched another one.

His attempts at communicating with her were good, she supposed, but Isette still had almost no idea what he was saying. She gathered that he had said hello, picked up a few pronouns and the odd word here and there, and she was pretty sure that last bit was an introduction. “Your name is Hawkins?” she asked, still trying to speak common. Her accent was thick. “My name is Isette.” Luckily, introductions were one of the first things one learned when learning a new language.

She paused, trying to remember the rest of her lessons. Her family thought it was important to speak other languages, but there was only so much a girl could learn in a year. “I thank you, Sir,” she said formally. She wanted to expand, say she thanked him for helping her, but her Common vocabulary didn’t extend that far. Instead she bowed. And now that the formalities were over, she could try asking him things, yes?

Her eyes drifted to his sword curiously and she suddenly felt shy. Isette wanted to learn how to fight like him, but how could she ask? He had already helped her. She tugged on her hair, a nervous habit of hers, and looked at him. “You fight well!” she told the man in Lhavitian. She then proceeded to pantomime some of the moods she’d seen him pull off, albeit she did so clumsily. It was her attempt at helping him understand what she had said. Isette wasn’t sure how much Lhavitian this man knew, if any. Most people relied on Common to get them through foreign places. Isette figured she should probably continue to learn it even though she was no longer Sesul. Perhaps the man could help her with that too! Or maybe he didn’t want anything to do with her now. But he’d helped her once, so that meant he was nice, didn’t it? Give a cat a treat and they will keep coming back for more.

by **Hawkins** on May 4th, 2011, 11:50 pm

Ah. She wasn't leaving. He could deal with that, right? Sure. Hawkins set his rump down on the cart and took a swig, eyes watching the young girl from the mouth of his bottle. She spoke, her kind of listened. Well no, not really, he was more concerned with figuring out how to get her to leave. Sooner rather than later. How about now? Still there. He grumbled. And plotted. Though, he had to admit she was rather adorable. With that little, mischievous cat-like face, a part of him wanted to take Isette home and feed her fish until she bust. No! Enough of that. He was not about to start developing feelings for this little girl. Never. Not a chance. Maybe it was too late.

She bowed. Ah, what was he supposed to do? Hawkins nodded? Oh bugger. With a push he stood back up and spun about, his cant spiraling about in a circle before he was able to right himself. Land was so strange. He spent a great deal of time on land, sure, but the moment he became accustom to it he lost his balance while at sea. What a life. His attention flickered back to Isette. He watched as she twirled around and mimicked the way he had flailed at the soldiers. Really, he was not very good. In a real fight those men would have torn him apart. Most literally. He just had the advantage of being absurdly lucky and having been at the ass end of a fair many chases in his time. Too many chases. Why the hell were people always chasing him? Maybe because he was always doing things worthy of being chased. Oh. Did she stop talking?

"Fight well?" Hawkins glanced down at his blade. "Oh. Oh! Well. somewhat. I suppose." He was alive wasn't he? Of course he fought well! Sure. Was she even able to understand anything he said? "This interests you, eh?" A quick draw on the blade echoed about the immediate vicinity, steel scraping against leather in a short echo. He waved the weapon around a a bit, his swagger accompanying the motions. He really should get better with the weapon. Yet running seemed all the more worthwhile endeavor.

"You can't fight? Well, ah. I can teach you a few things, yes? Yes. Sure."

by **Isette** on May 5th, 2011, 7:45 pm

This man was funny. The way he moved seemed awkward, even for a human. It looked as though he was constantly off balance, or very nearly so. Isette wasn’t sure if maybe it was a foreign thing or if he was just awkward. It could be that was how people carried themselves wherever he was from. Either way it was interesting to her. Not that she was the epitome of grace. She had great balance, sure, and could instinctively land on her feet but she didn’t feel as natural in her human body as she did in her feline body.

The kelvic blinked curiously as he spoke, trying to determine the meaning of his words. She took an instinctive step back when he drew the blade, but his body language wasn’t aggressive so she assumed the gesture had been done with amiable intentions. She waited only a moment before stepping back, examining the weapon curiously. It was…pretty. The way the metal shined. Isette wanted one, but how could she possibly afford one? She had the passing thought of stealing his, but quickly dismissed that idea. Not only was she not skilled enough but Isette would not steal from someone who had been kind to her.

The word ‘teach’ stood out to her and Isette grinned. He was getting the picture. “Teach! Yes!” she replied in Common. Her entire face seemed to light up at the idea. With her untrained eye, she couldn’t tell the difference between someone who couldn’t fight well and someone who could. This man had saved her. Therefore, he must be a good fighter. She admired him for it. Her parents had not liked the idea of her learning to fight. They considered it barbaric. And, truth be told, she hadn’t had a reason to in her cushioned life as a high class citizen.

Now? Now Isette lived on the streets, alone. She was shimobe, something to be walked all over. She was lucky enough to be good at running and hiding. As a cat, she could fit in some surprising places. But a little self defense would go a long way. Maybe next time she was too weak to change forms, she could help herself out instead of hoping to be rescued. What if Hawkins hadn’t been there? Would someone else have come to her aid? A filthy shimobe? It was unlikely. The foreigner simply hadn’t known better.

by **Hawkins** on May 7th, 2011, 2:13 am

"Alright." Hawkins quirked a brow. He paused for a few moments. After some consideration he turned aside and leaned over, snagging a few more items from what was now his cart. What were these? Rods? Dowsing rods? Who kept that on a cart? This fellow did. With a shrug he sheathed his own blade and took a pair, one cast through the air and toward the young, sweet little girl. She really was precious. Why, with her accented common and total lack of understanding damn near anything he said. For all she knew he could be baiting her to a slave market. On that note, she might fetch a nice price on a market. Hm. No! Slavery was bad. And profitable. Back in Sunberth he could get a few hundred Mizas. Food for thought. For bad thought. Bugger. Hawkins just smiled and mock bowed to his new student, now armed with wooden stick and bottle of rum. That's right, he had rum. Tipping the liquid back, he took a solid draft and swaggered a bit in Isette's direction.

"Aye then. Let's, you know. Maybe we should get out of sight, eh?" With a wave Hawkins beckoned the girl to follow him. On tipping toes he poked his head about and down the nearby street, eyes swiveling too and fro as he examined the immediate center for guards. None? Good. Quickly, he sprung from his place of hiding and bolted across the street, juking and diving behind all sorts of cover before making his way into what appeared to be a darker, more concealed alleyway. He stopped to sniff the location. Enclosed, easy to hide. Wait a minute. Why was he doing this anyway? Truth be told, it was not as if he had anything better to do. He was not due to leave this port for another few days. Ah well. He turned only just then to check if Isette had bothered to follow him. Where was... there! Oh.

Hawkins gave his stick a flurry. Not neatly, he realized then that he had no idea what to do with the damn rod. He shrugged and dropped it, his sword replacing the stick all at once. "First lesson. You, ah. Well. Stick 'em." Hawkins demonstrated by thrusting his sword out in front of him. He watched the girl as he did, curious as to how he was supposed to communicate with her. Hrm. He lifted the blade and showed off how he was holding it. "There's a lot in the grip, yeah? Keep it loose, your fingers like... so." He flexed his hands and displayed how he had his own grip folded about the hilt, his knuckles relaxed and thumb held snuggly against the guard. "I suppose most of the work is in the feet. And the shoulder. Go ahead, give me a whack."

by **Isette** on May 7th, 2011, 9:23 pm

Isette waited, her breath held, as he stood there. After a few moments he leaned over and grabbed some wooden rods. She released her breath the moment he moved. Yay! She was going to learn something! The kelvic practically shivered with excitement. Clumsily, she caught the makeshift weapon as it was tossed to her. She turned the thing over in her hands curiously, getting a feel for the smooth wood. Her attention was rapt. There were few things that could consume all of Isette’s attention. Learning new things, especially things that interested her and would benefit her survival, was one of them.

She looked up at the sound of his voice, even though the words meant very little to her. The odd word here and there was not enough for her to pick up on the meaning. She stared at him quizzically until he beckoned her to follow him. Isette did so without hesitation, though his mannerisms confused her. Why was he ducking and weaving all over the place? Thinking there must be a reason, or that perhaps it was all part of the lesson, she followed suit and trailed behind him like a shadow. A very feminine and smaller shadow.

They eventually stopped in a dark alleyway. The kelvic looked around her, instinctively analyzing the layout of her new environment. It smelled funny, but she couldn’t put a finger on why. Anyway. There were more important things to focus on. Quick movement out of the corner of her eye brought the attention back to Hawkins. She hadn’t watched what he did, but he was now exchanging the rod for his sword. Isette immediately took a step away from him. A sword versus a rod seemed unfair and she didn’t even know how to use the rod. Was he going to hurt her?

No. That didn’t make sense. Hawkins had saved her. Why would he hurt her? Isette had to trust that he knew what he was doing. He spoke again, and Isette had no idea what he said. His words were shortly followed by a thrust from the sword. She tried to copy the movement. He said something about…fingers? Grip. He was showing her his grip. Isette studied his hands and carefully mirrored the way he held his sword. Her expression held so much concentration it was almost comical. Her brows were furrowed with thought and she was biting her lower lip.

He spoke again, naming other body parts that she thought she recognized along with the phrase ‘give me’. She watched him for a moment, waiting for him to show her what to do. When nothing happened, Isette decided to take matters into her own hands. She decided he was waiting for her to make the first move. So she did. The kelvic thrust with the wooden rod the way he had shown her earlier, aiming for his stomach. Her movement was surprisingly fast and sudden, but lacked strength. Isette was dexterous, but she was afraid of hurting the nice man.

by **Hawkins** on May 8th, 2011, 4:55 am

Hawkins grunted. Ow. He had not moved when Isette thrust the rod at him and the end result was a pain in his stomach. How delightful. It took him a moment or two, but when he acclimated himself it felt as if nothing had happened. That was good. Maybe. She had at least hit him with the right end. Whatever end of a stick was the right one. Bugger. A shrug followed his thoughts and Hawkins found himself staring at the girl, dull witted and ill concerned for the next step. What was the next step? Did he hit her back? No! He had a real sword. Well, there was a lot to know about blocking. Ah! Yes, of course. Stabbing was all in good, but not getting stabbed was better. Much better. Without that bit of direction she would end up dead in no time. After all, that was how he had managed to stay alive all this time. Not getting stabbed that is.

"Good! I think. Now, ah. You need to stop stop yourself from getting hit, eh? That part is easy. You hold the sword like this." He paused and set himself up, squaring his torso with Isette. He lifted his blade over his head, arm held up and out, the weapon itself angled horizontally over his head. It hovered a foot or so out from his forehead for a moment before he switched sides, the weapon turning to direct the block in a separate fashion. "High block. Keeps them from, you know. Beheading. Balls, you can't understand any of this hogwash, can you?" Of course not. Sighing, Hawkins turned around and mimicked as if someone was attacking him. His came up and around, over his head, and down again at some poor, invisible fellow. He grinned and turned again, holding the sword in a block once more. "You try."

Next he followed trough with the common set of moves. Two positions high, two to the side - those of which he held the blade out to each of his hips, weapon kept vertical and out a bit from each hip. Every time he displayed one of the defenses he would turn around and mock a strike that each was designed to stay off. Whether it was a strike from the hip, the shoulder, or any such position, he kept the assaults simple and quick, allowing Isette to see what each was for. Back to defense, he went over eight points of contact, after the torso he covered four that dealt with areas below the waist, his hand twisting on the last set to get a good handle on how she would maneuver her wrist at each endeavor. After each display he would wait, watch, and aid the girl in her own attempt to mimic his designs. Hawkins was not the best teacher. In reality, he was a novice teaching a novice, but he supposed it was better than nothing.

"Now, ah, I'll hit you." He said, slowly, carefully, his sword raised into the air. "But gently, eh? Ready?"

by **Isette** on May 8th, 2011, 7:03 pm

She hit him! She hit him. She…hit him? A flurry of emotions rushed through Isette in the blink of an eye. Jubilation. Shock. Guilt. She hadn’t expected to actually hit him. Was he hurt? Had she hurt him? That would make her feel terrible. Maybe this learning to fight thing was too dangerous after all. The feline frowned and watched him uneasily. He seemed to be okay. For a few moments, they simply stared at each other. Hawkins looked at her thoughtfully while she tried to calm her panic at having possibly hurt her new friend. But he was fine; he did that sort of thing all the time, right?

He spoke again and she listened carefully, her head tilted to the side. Good. I think. Stop. Only four words out of a string of sentences stood out to her. She wasn’t sure what he was trying to say, but he seemed to have complimented her attack, at least. That made her happy. Isette grinned. She was proud to have earned a compliment and it was proof that he was okay! Leastways he wasn’t mad at her, nor did he call the whole thing off. Their lesson could continue moving forward.

She copied him when he raised his weapon, and then followed him again when he moved it. Her face was screwed up in intense concentration as she attempted to be precise and get the movements perfect. She had no idea what he was trying to tell her. Hopefully it wasn’t important. She should probably practice her Common more if she was going to start hanging around foreigners. It would be a good idea since foreigners had a tendency to be nicer to her. They didn’t know enough about Lhavit customs to know that she was unworthy company and Isette didn’t feel the need to let them in on the secret.

The two seemed to eventually figure out a pattern of show and repeat. It seemed to be working well. Isette was good at reading body language and most of the movements were obvious and simple. It was easy enough to figure out what each one was for. She figured the important thing would be to get them into her muscle memory. Isette was going to practice every day! And one day, she would be a great fighter! Then she could take care of herself and maybe even rescue others who were in need.

Hawkins raised his sword into the air in a way Isette recognized. He said something along with it, but she didn’t understand. Her actions were instinctive. She swiftly raised her wooden rod into one of the blocks he showed her. This was the correct response to that sort of action, right? She met his gaze hopefully, looking for some sort of praise or acknowledgment of success. Or a correction if she was wrong. Isette didn’t mind being wrong in situations where she was learning things. It was all part of the process and would theoretically end with her coming out on top.

by **Hawkins** on May 13th, 2011, 1:07 am

Hawkins quirked a brow. He lowered his sword and used the blade to correct Isette a bit. He nudged her elbow with the edge. Gently, he tapped her arm until she raised it. Lowering the weapon, he hit the side of her front foot and slipped it forward, repeating the process until she was standing somewhat bow legged. Talking was pointless. Instead, he mimicked the same poise, his feet twisting until his torso was balanced properly over the middle of his legs. A stance. No doubt. Footwork was important. Lastly, he reached forward and pushed back on the girls chest, ensuring that she stood straight, or at least with her back somewhat pointed. Slouching was bad. Once she was 'proper' he raised the blade back into the air and mocked bringing it over his head. In slow motion the edge came down at the Kelvic's head. He stopped before it made any sort of collision, but he went just a bit farther than the blocks he showed her would allow. It was a test. Or rather practice. Once he completed the over-head strike he would followed with another. First above, then to the side, his arm sliding around his shoulder each time and flinging the blade in various positions.

It was all about repetition at this point. Building reflexes. Hawkins kept on. After the first few strikes he switched it up. He would never respond with the same pattern, but he would always move slow enough to ensure the girl's ample response. Timing. Any faster and he risked cutting off that sweet little head. Up, side, side, down, each attack would come from a new angle. At first he remained still, just working his torso in a basic, unmoving stance, but as they continued he started to move. Around in a circle he paced, one foot gliding over the other in a hypnotic pattern. Isette would have to move in order to defend herself. Soon he stepped with the assaults. His feet would rise and fall with the attacks, shoulders shifting and muscles flexing in tandem with the strikes. Slow and steady. That was the game.

by **Isette** on May 13th, 2011, 8:43 pm

The Kelvic adjusted as he corrected her stance, paying close attention to the way it felt. Arms, just so. Legs, just there. Back straight. She checked her balance, and found it better than it was before. This pleased her greatly, as shown by the delighted grin that spread across her face. She took a moment to memorize the stance. The way it felt. The specifics on where everything was. She wondered how long it would take for her body to consider it natural and normal. At the moment, it felt a little bit awkward. Isette had never had to stand like that before.

Her attention was diverted from her stance when movement caught her eye. He lifted the sword and started bringing it down towards her, slowly, giving her plenty of time to react. Instinctively, she raised her wooden rod and performed the overhead block he had shown her. Then he did another strike. And another. Isette reacted to them as well. She watched him closely, trying to see where he would strike next so that she could perform the correct block. Some of her reactions were slower than others but the more she practiced the better she got at reading him.

Then he started moving. Isette fumbled at first, surprised by the sudden change. Then her eyes narrowed in concentration and she stepped with him, blocking and following his movements the way she would follow a predator or another cat trespassing on her territory. Her hunting instincts were helping her observe this man. She mirrored him with her body and had to keep reminding herself that she was only blocking, not going on the attack. Slow and steady. Move and block. It was almost meditative, like a dance. One she started getting the hang of it, her body seemed to react for her.

The dance changed again. He began stepping while he attacked. Once more, Isette fumbled before adjusting herself. This movement was more complicated for her to follow. Slow and steady. Move and block. Isette vowed to practice this every day from then on. Until it became second nature. She moved, she blocked, mimicking his speed and learning how to read his body. Her feline eyes tracked him warily. She tried to keep track of her stance, her grip, her block, and his movements all at once. It was a lot to think about and her muscles were unused to it.