Pincushions of Cellulose[Hadrian]

[Faval]

Summer 37, 512

There was a lot that could go wrong to cause an arrow to miss. Slight fluctuations in the wind, slight fluctuations in the string, slight fluctuations in the shooter’s concentration, all could turn a clean shot to a hamstring in to a minor annoyance to a heavily armored foe or a clean shot to the heart in to an aimless piece of wood. Very, very many things could go wrong while shooting an arrow, especially with a weapon as cumbersome as a longbow. Consequently, Faval was practicing overcoming those minute annoyances that could completely throw the accuracy of a shot out of balance. The most common offenders were an angry person running at you with a sharp object. A large, muscular, smelly man with a sword always managed to make the shooter clutch his bow a little tighter as he was sprinting, angry and grunting like a pig, straight toward you to skewer you like a piece of meat. Faval did have weapons to counteract that though and was trained in a small variety of hand to hand combat techniques. Nothing however stated that he couldn’t apply those techniques while he was not empty handed.

Faval was situated quite snugly in a small clearing that he had used earlier, the one he had met Kressha in. The boy often came here to relax and shoot with a relative lack of disturbance. Unfortunately, the word relative needed to be used as the more he came here, the more he seemed to be disturbed by something. Not always something pleasant. Exhaling deeply, Faval unslung the bow from his shoulder and retrieved an arrow from the quiver strapped to his back as he positioned his legs shoulder width apart and perpendicular to the surface of a nearby tree. Tilting the bow downward, the boy nocked the arrow before slowly pulling the feathered shaft back. Slowly and in one fluid motion, Faval lifted the bow as he was drawing, pulling it back, aiming it at the ground and then behind him all while slowly pulling on the bowstring, rotating it in orbit around a central point. By the time Faval had pulled the weapon back to that central point, his cheek, the arrow head was pointed straight for the back of a yet to be marred tree. Looking down the shaft of the arrow at his target, after waiting a few moments for his breathing to steady, Faval released the dangerous projectile and caused it to hurtle through the air at dangerous speeds. The sound of the weapon crashing in to the tree reverberated through the small little tree ridden shooting gallery, the sudden impact scattering the birds that had made it their home.

Faval was not yet finished. Using the fluid footwork he had gained from his rigorous forays in to the martial arts. The boy took a wide step forward before turning his foot inward. Using the resistance of the ground, Faval dragged himself in a wide arching movement, from a practical standpoint used to evade an incoming projectile…or the aforementioned smelly ogre with a metal stick before again positioning his legs shoulder length apart. As he did this, the boy retrieved from his quiver and attempted to nock his next arrow and fire it at a different tree. He had managed to ready the shot but his aim was off and the arrow careened aimlessly in to the forested growth. He was not intending to stop there however. Faval repeated the process, pivoting and dragging all while simultaneously retrieving, nocking, positioning for, and firing the arrow at the next tree in the sequence. He didn’t start actually hitting the trees until the fifteenth shot he tried to fire while moving, which honestly wasn’t that unimpressive a feat for such a cumbersome weapon. Longbows in general generally promoted a situated roost from which to shoot from and were generally too large and unwieldy to be used in this way. As Faval pierced the spot he was actually aiming for on the eighteenth shot, the boy’s feet ground to a halt. Two arrows presently remained in the quiver as Faval let out an exasperated sigh. He had plenty more at home, even if he managed to lose these, but they were still stupidly expensive things. Letting his bow drop to his side, Faval set off in to the surrounding area to collect his arrows, and probably start the whole process again. He wasn’t intending to rest until there were eighteen arrows sticking out of the forest around him.

[Hadrian]

People warned him not to travel outside the city proper, but while he knew that the world had grown somehow more dangerous since the storm, he had spent time abroad, and time in the places between islands of civilization and relative safety. He was stronger now in his arcane arts, more able to defend himself. Besides, if there were strange new mutations to encounter, he wanted to study them. The rigors of travel were building strength in his legs, strength that didn't require Fluxed energy to augment anymore. Here in Zeltiva, he was taking long walks on the shifting sands, and hikes into the foothills. These would continue as he sought to learn the lay of the land after the storm, and eventually he would seek his underground laboratory, the bequest of his ancestor. It was best to start a habit early so nobody questioned it later. That was a tip he had learned from the inestimable MaeClair, who had made a spy of him. He felt the aura from far off, and went to investigate. A lone human could easily find danger, and here as a professor of the University, Hadrian was becoming a pillar of the community. It were best he live up to those standards. After the last thunk of an arrow, he called ahead so as not to startle anyone into unintended violence. "Hullo!" he called, and then after a few more steps, he came around a tree and there was the young archer. "I apologize for the interruption, but everyone keeps telling me how dangerous it is out here. I thought it best to make sure you were safe."

[Hadrian]

People warned him not to travel outside the city proper, but while he knew that the world had grown somehow more dangerous since the storm, he had spent time abroad, and time in the places between islands of civilization and relative safety. He was stronger now in his arcane arts, more able to defend himself. Besides, if there were strange new mutations to encounter, he wanted to study them. The rigors of travel were building strength in his legs, strength that didn't require Fluxed energy to augment anymore. Here in Zeltiva, he was taking long walks on the shifting sands, and hikes into the foothills. These would continue as he sought to learn the lay of the land after the storm, and eventually he would seek his underground laboratory, the bequest of his ancestor. It was best to start a habit early so nobody questioned it later. That was a tip he had learned from the inestimable MaeClair, who had made a spy of him. He felt the aura from far off, and went to investigate. A lone human could easily find danger, and here as a professor of the University, Hadrian was becoming a pillar of the community. It were best he live up to those standards. After the last thunk of an arrow, he called ahead so as not to startle anyone into unintended violence. "Hullo!" he called, and then after a few more steps, he came around a tree and there was the young archer. "I apologize for the interruption, but everyone keeps telling me how dangerous it is out here. I thought it best to make sure you were safe."

[Faval]

As soon as the voice penetrated the clearing, Faval’s body reacted instinctively. Fighting off a severe case of déjà vu, Faval did exactly as he was trained to do when he was snuck up upon. The boy’s left leg kicked across his body while his center of gravity dropped, the left foot planting firmly in to the ground and dragging the rest of Faval’s body around. As he moved, he quickly nocked one of the two remaining arrows in to his bow and in one fluid motion in conjunction with his pivot, had drawn back his arrow and readied himself a few feet away from his initial point with an arrowhead pointed straight at the source of the voice. The source of the voice this time…just happened to be a tree. Faval released some of the tension as the voice emerged from behind the tree, belonging to a rather tall, lanky individual. It was a rare occasion that Faval saw someone taller and lankier than he was and it provoked specific mention.

Faval gently lowered his bow, the arrow tip pointing toward the ground as his rather severe face gazed at the new arrival. It was getting somewhat annoying how his private place to shoot seemed to be getting less and less private every time he decided to use it. It’s like the Gods shine a spotlight on his little space every time he’s there as a beacon to attract people who’ll inevitably get in the way. Of course, one of the times it happened resulted in something wonderful, so for the time being Faval would try not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Of course its dangerous, I might have shot you or you might have been hit by a stray arrow. You should be more careful, I might have really hurt you and I wasn’t paid to do that.”

Who Faval was actually referring to with that comment isn’t fully known, since it applied to Faval considerably more as he was the one carelessly rifling off arrows through the woods, but the sentiment was genuine. Faval really wasn’t a fan of hurting people needlessly, or at all but mostly needlessly. Violence just happened to be the only skill he really had so he did what he had to in order to eat.

“What are you doing out here anyway, especially considering the danger you’ve heard about?”

[Hadrian]

The young man's irritation wasn't difficult to catch, and Hadrian could certainly understand it. He liked his solitude rather more than most, and one of the drawbacks of working for the University was that he was paid to be available to students and other faculty, had to attend parties and meetings. He spread his hands apologetically, but that was the best the lad was going to get. They were close to a metropolis by contemporary standards, so one would have to travel far for true solitude, but Hadrian was aware that the need for solitude was what drove him to walk outside the city where in his student days he had been content to take walks within. "I doubt you could hurt me if I am paying attention," he promised, "but as I said, I was being a proper pillar of the community and making sure all was well. I'll leave you to your archery if you prefer."

[Faval]

Faval’s attention span most likely did not seem rather high to the casual onlooker, as he had forfeited caring about why the man was out there pretty quickly, mere seconds after he asked to be more specific, and had already went about collecting the arrows that he had sent less than gracefully through the woods. He thankfully more or less remembered all of the shots and just how wide his misses were, consequently it wasn’t that hard to locate them, the movement made it considerably easier to shoot with a downward tilt as well, especially since he was just starting to practice the move set. The arrows hadn’t gone far and while he was rounding them up, he never left ear shot of the “pillar of the community.”

That statement in and of itself was confusing to Faval. Perhaps he was merely ignorant, which was possible given that he was ignorant of much, but he had never seen this man before nor had he heard of any pillars of the community that tended to be so far out and away from the community. Retrieving the last arrow and returning it to the quiver, leaving the several embedded in the trees where they were, Faval returned to the center of his little clearing before turning a rather dark glare back at the man. As was said, he was ignorant of much and very few subjects featured his lack of knowledge more than that of the arcane. He was still under the impression that the worst thing a wizard could do to him was turn him in to a frog that can only croak vowels. Confusingly, Seluj did not find that half as mortifying as he should have, he was a strange person. Because of that ignorance though, Faval’s first thought did not gravitate toward the man being some magical being of arrow preventing proportions or any other more conventional excuse for his statement, so Faval could only assume that he was issuing a slight against his ability to aim versus his ability to move. Faval was not amused.

“I sincerely hope you’re not questioning my ability to hit a moving target.”

[Hadrian]

The 'pillar of the community' statement had been facetious and self-deprecating, of course; he was a professor now, and he had been told that his public behavior must not bring disgrace upon the institution of the University of Zeltiva, whatever that meant. But perhaps that was too much of an inside thing, Hadrian's inner life leaking out into his speech. With Kendall closed off, he had few outlets for his thoughts. Ethan was only interested in some things. Lucas was not so well known as to be an intimate. Xnnn was nowhere to be found most of the time. Everyone seemed to want something from him here. Much had changed since his student days. "What cause have I for doubt? I am merely confident of my own skills."

[Faval]

Faval slowly reached behind his back for one of the arrows from his quiver, his eyes still narrowed rather intently on the man. He didn’t like killing anyone, but that didn’t extend to embedding an arrow in to the man’s kneecap, just to see him prove that Faval couldn’t hit him. Flattening his bow out before him, Faval nocked the arrow and let it rest on the shelf, gently tugging the bowstring back, flexing it as he continued to glare at the newcomer. It was tempting, but one of the first rules he was taught was to not seek out a conflict you weren’t sure you could win and Faval knew nothing whatsoever about this man. While the smug confidence, Faval interpreting as arrogance, was the main reason he wanted to shoot him, it was also a reason to stay hi hand. It was not at all good tactics to start a fight in this situation and Faval wasn’t a large enough moron to go against the most basic of basics that he was taught. An exasperated sigh escaped him as he turned his attention back toward the tree.

“Thank you for your concern, but I am perfectly safe, if irritated. Is there anything else I could do to assist you? If not, I recommend you leave or at least get behind a tree. This requires practice and is essential; no one would hire a mercenary who can’t hit a few trees while doing such simple footwork.”

[Hadrian]

"Hm." Instead of leaving or seeking shelter, he began to exude djed, which was mostly invisible, although when the waveforms hit something just right, they reacted by becoming partially and temporarily visible. The air close to his body began to waver once in a while as if in a heat wave, and it didn't take terribly long for him to Shield his body against ranged weapons. It was a testament to his skill that he could manage to ward the entirety of his body when before it had taken him so long just to make the simplest and smallest of shields. Now he was faster and capable of bigger and more complex things, but with this he was content to be impervious to the lad's arrows. Then he settled in to watch. He wanted to know his accuracy with that bow, and then there was the question of hand-to-hand combat. They might have got off to a rocky start, but he might just have a proposition for the lad. "Go ahead, if you wish. I'm curious to see your skills at arms."

[Faval]

Faval’s eyes only narrowed further as the man just smugly stayed quite still and content on the ground, despite Faval’s warnings and genuine attempts at compassionately warding the man away from danger. Yet he persisted to sit there with that smug, arrogant look on his face like nothing in the world could pose him any sort of danger. It was incredibly irritating to Faval, yet oddly intriguing at the same time. He couldn’t tell if the man was just stupid and crazy or if he genuinely had nothing to fear from a stray arrow or any other manner of befoulment that could take place in the wooded area. Faval, an irritated click of the tongue escaping him, turned his head back toward a nearby tree before quickly snapping it back to the man. Something was wrong…different. The light that shone through the trees on the man’s face didn’t look right, like it was bending improperly. He had seen the phenomenon before on extremely hot days, when the stone walkways seemed to distort the air around them from the heat. Faval was instantly on guard, he knew the magic people could throw fireballs after spelling their names backward and Faval knew that fire was hot. After putting two and two together, well, if he started spelling anything Faval started shooting.

Instead however, the man just kept still and watched Faval’s indecisiveness which soon made Faval more intrigued than genuinely concerned. He was still watching out for the aforementioned spelling bee, although Faval couldn’t read so the man might spell his name wrong and Faval wouldn’t know he was failing at conjuring fireballs, but his trepidation was replaced with a sense of curiosity. He wasn’t planning to shoot at the man, if the man really was an idiot he didn’t want an innocent idiot’s blood on his hands, but the sense of confidence that bordered on arrogance did put Faval at ease somehow. And even if Faval missed and the man did just happen to be a complete moron; then Faval at least warned him. Turning away from the smug interloper, Faval repeated his earlier performance. With a deft sense of quickness, Faval loosed an arrow in to a previously untouched tree, the resulting collision sending another large smacking sound throughout the clearing as Faval continued dancing in the small circle, weaving and ducking through the wide arching steps as he punched holes in to the remaining trees, eighteen to be precise. Perhaps it was the fact that he had an audience that pushed him harder for perfection or perhaps it was the fact that the audience could very well be a corpse if he screwed up, but Faval didn’t miss a single shot as he elegantly nearly emptied his quiver in to the nearby trees. Letting his bow collapse to a rest by his side, Faval’s narrowed eyes turned back to the man, apparently the defensiveness still not leaving him. He was trained to be defensive, especially when faced with someone who didn’t behave accordingly to how society typically functions. Most people would recognize the danger someone firing a bow could possibly pose and they’d do the smart thing and not get in the way. This man didn’t do that, which meant he was different and in a world where death was often around the corner in the form of conflict with beasts, giant magical storms or some other giant catastrophe that extended beyond normal human means, something different could be trouble. It would take a considerable amount of familiarity for Faval to not be defensive around Hadrian or anything else that could be construed as a threat, but it wasn’t the first time he had gotten over paranoia.

“Was your curiosity sated?”