[The Windward Boardwalk] Family Matters [Solo]

Character sheet · by **Chev** on May 26th, 2013, 3:33 am

Season of Winter, Day 32, 512 AV

The Frostfawn Hold was busy that evening. Peals of laughter filled the living room, the squeals of birds and the chattering of small, domesticated animals afoot adding to the excited background buzz that was conventional to the Frostfawn Hold. Frosty leaped from his position perched on Chev’s shoulder. Chev tore off the blue, wooly scarf that was wrapped snugly around his neck, wiping the sweat that had formed from a day of hard work. However, he wasn’t tired yet. Filled to the brim with youthful energy, Chev stepped over a giggling infant as his eyes scanned for the whereabouts of his brother, Limey.

Chev found him in his own room, sitting atop his bed with a dog in his lap. They both looked up as Chev gingerly entered the room, a warm smile on his face. The dog barked and jumped to its feet, bounding towards Chev with its tongue hanging out of its mouth. Chev bent over to pet the dog’s head as Limey stood up, his face decorated by a weary grin.

“What’s up?” he asked, hands on his hips. His tousled hair and haggard countenance discouraged Chev, who now hesitated as the dog barked once more before running off to look for more attention elsewhere. Chev gingerly got to his feet.

“Did you just get out of bed?” Chev asked innocently, looking around his brother’s figure to see the disturbed bed sheets, and watched as Limey yawned, his jaw unhinging like a snakes. Limey’s eyes fluctuated between pale green and blue—a sign that told Chev to tread carefully. He was not much of a jokester right after rising. Limey merely nodded. “Yeah.”

A jolt of disappointment struck Chev, who sucked in his cheeks and drew in a breath, his eagerness slowly diminishing. He didn’t know if he should ask what he wanted to ask anymore. However, Limey cocked a single brow upwards, his expression amused but slightly irritated, forcing Chev into action.

“I, ah, was wondering if you wanted to … train with me,” he mumbled, “but you don’t have to—go right back to sleep if you want. I don’t mind,” he finished quickly, nodding his head towards the pile of bed sheets. Limey looked back at the bed sheets, almost longingly, but he shook his head. “You know how I am. I can’t go back to sleep so easily.”

“Sorry.”

“No problem—I was awake before you entered, anyway.” Limey roused himself awake; hopping lightly from one foot to another, but Chev could still sense the fatigue leaking from his pores. Chev was torn between guilt and glee, but his cheerfulness quickly took over as he asked: “So, where to, where to?”

“Ah,” grunted Limey, raising his hands skyward, stretching. “I dunno—the Windward Boardwalk?” Chev hesitated once more. “The Boardwalk? But—”

“All right, you go along and do whatever—we’ll meet at around five chimes before ten bells.” He seemed satisfied with his decision, nodding to himself before yawning once more. Chev bit his lip, but he knew better than to question a Limey who had just gotten out of bed. “Okay,” was all he said before backing out of the room.

***

The two brothers walked down the path to the Windward Boardwalk. Chev’s hair flung about wildly as the bitter gusts of wind slapped his face. He retreated to covering his mouth and nose with his scarf. He looked up to watch as Limey squinted ahead, eyes peering for the arches of greenery and icestone. His face was fair and body chiseled and physically fit, but most remembered him for his unparalleled wit. However, under the right circumstances, his main medium of entertainment could become a verbal weapon. The times where the bags under his eyes showed were the times Chev was slightly wary of him.

“Ready to get pounded?” taunted Chev, throwing straight punches into the darkness in front of him—an attempt to lighten Limey’s mood. Limey chuckled quietly. One point for Chev Frostfawn. He was still staring straight ahead.

Chev followed Limey’s gaze and pouted. “You can’t really see anything out there. It’s nighttime already, and the winds all up in our faces.” He looked up at Limey, eyes widened slightly with worry. “What if we get lost?”

“Nah,” replied Limey. “Look, we’re already here. See?” He pointed at the first arch that people were met with when they first entered the park. Chev clapped his hands together with glee and relief. Of course, he knew he shouldn’t have doubted Limey in the first place.

Chev glanced curiously at Limey. “Speaking of which, why were you asleep?” He should have been working like the rest of the Hold. Chev observed his face carefully, and when he saw what looked like a wince, he knew he’d entered the danger zone. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Petching Tierra,” he muttered bitterly. Surprised, Chev pressed his lips together, and fought the urge to ask another question—slow-witted as he was, he knew he would just make matters worse. It was strange, though—Tierra and Limey were family, and they normally got along quite well. What had happened to cause Limey lazing around the Hold like that? Tierra was infamously calculating and sly, which evoked a few unpleasant memories to bubble to the surface of Chev’s thoughts. The atmosphere was tense, and Chev was afraid Limey would actually lose his temper for once. He walked with his head bowed and his arms behind his back.

“We’re here,” Limey called, causing Chev’s head to shoot up and swivel about. It was a relatively small open space, circled by benches and sculptures that looked so delicate that it seemed as though the slightest gust of wind would cause them to topple over. However, the harsh Avanthal winds beat down on them, and they would not be moved.

“Those sculptures … wouldn’t they break if we accidentally punch them?”

“Then don’t accidentally punch them,” his brother answered coolly, with an underlying tone of vexation. He turned to face Chev, his feet slightly apart in a casual defensive stance that looked incredibly condescending, and with an entertained smirk crossing his face. He splayed his arms. “Come at me, little brother.”

Chev gulped.

Character sheet · by **Chev** on May 26th, 2013, 9:28 pm

Chev bounced on the tips of his toes, staring warily at his brother’s confident form. They both knew that he was the better fighter, and he wasn’t in the best of moods. Chev’s eyes shifted from his planted feet and open arms, knowing that it was definitely a set-up but not knowing how to proceed. Limey’s eyes twinkled dangerously. “If you’re not gonna move, I will.”

Chev’s froze into a crouched stance, arms balled up into fists in front of him. At the same time, Limey lowered his arms, allowing them to fall slack at his sides. He could have been begging Chev to attack him. Chev took a deep breath—and shot out from his defensive stance, lunging at Limey’s form, hoping he could get in one good straight punch using the element of surprise.

Over the roar of the gales, Chev could make out muffled chuckles. A wave of uncertainty washed over him. In his moment of ambiguity, he stumbled over his own feet, breaking his stride. Limey pivoted around his left foot, moving around to catch Chev’s unstable form and effortlessly toss him to the snow covered ground. Chev landed with a subdued grunt, coughing behind his scarf.

“What, are you even trying?” Limey threw a punch into the wind, laughing. “’Ready to get pounded?’” he imitated mockingly.

“Shut up,” mumbled Chev, throwing off his scarf. The stupid thing was a distraction.

He quickly got to his feet and, within an arm’s reach of Limey’s tall figure, threw a straight punch to his abdomen. Limey caught it with discouraging ease and threw his left hand around to hit the side of Chev’s face. He ducked, dodging the swing. The meager amount of satisfaction felt was quickly overrun when Limey brought his knee out and got him straight in the chest. He found himself in the snow once more, the wind knocked out of him.

Chev rolled onto his side, clutching his stomach, and let out a few coughs, lying on his side for a few moments as he caught his breath. Limey silently stood over him, arms crossed. Chev imagined the condescending thoughts running through his brother’s irritated head, and his conviction wavered. Limey regarded him curiously.

“What? You wanna go home now?”

Chev could’ve nodded meekly and went home to practice again tomorrow, to train with Limey when he was in a better mood. However, Limey’s sharp words struck a chord in his heart. His will to fight rejuvenated, Chev bit his lip in concentration as he briskly swept his right leg up and around, supporting himself with his arms.

A brief moment of shock had time to register on Limey’s face as he jumped backwards, out of the way, just as Chev recovered and flew into a defensive stance, knees bent and eyes trained on Limey. His green eyes flared with determination. Despite the freezing weather, a bead of sweat managed to trickle down the side of his cheek. The two smiled grimly at each other.

Limey charged with his fists raised. A bolt of adrenaline shot through Chev’s veins. He tried sidestepping the charge, but Limey dug his left foot into the ground, spinning on the balls of his foot as his right leg came around for a wide roundhouse kick, connecting with Chev’s cheek and sending him skidding across the snow. Chev slowly got back up, breathing hard and biting back tears.

“This isn’t training,” he spat. “You’re just trying to beat me up now!”

“Gotta toughen up, little Chev.” Again, that devilish smile that chilled Chev’s bones widened across Limey’s face.

Character sheet · by **Chev** on May 27th, 2013, 12:28 am

Chev’s fiery green eyes glared at his older brother, wiping away the dripping blood forming from a cut on his lip, a tiny splatter painting the pure white snow beneath him crimson red. Limey seemed to see his fierce expression and grinned savagely.

“So we’re not going home early.”

“Shut up and fight,” Chev said bitterly. Nostrils flared, he stepped in with his left and went for a straight punch to the abdomen once more. Limey went to block it with an amused expression, but it quickly turned to that of astonishment as he was forced to step back from the sheer strength of the punch. As he looked back up, another punch was already on its way, sighted on his face.

Limey only barely managed to parry the blow, swiveling his head to the side, slightly intimidated by the amount of force behind Chev’s raging fists. His lips were pressed together in quiet determination, throwing whatever he had at his older brother.

It was no longer a simple training session, a friendly spar between brothers—in fact, it never was. The two brothers were trapped in a wild dance of thrusts, punches and kicks. Chev was now on the offensive, keeping his brother trapped behind a flurry of punches and the occasional kick—it was all he knew how to do semi-effectively. If it were the other way around, the fight wouldn’t even have lasted half a chime. Chev was still iffy on the basics of deflecting, dodging and parrying blows. His brother hadn’t taught him that yet, and he would have done it today if it weren’t for his sour mood.

Chev faltered—both he and his brother sensed it immediately as it happened. Limey smirked. Gritting his teeth, he hastily stepped backwards, leaving the two back at square one. Chev chastised himself silently—he’d given his brother the chance to recover, leaving him at a disadvantage. He eyed his brother’s movements warily. His brother was left-handed, and he often taught him that it was more effective to initiate right as the battle started, ending it with two straightforward punches—straight right and a hook. The trick was landing both with enough force, and catching the enemy by surprise. However, both of them were on the defensive, so the element of surprise was non-existent.

In actuality, Chev was at a major disadvantage—for he didn’t know how to block properly. Both of them seemed to have realized this at the same time, because when Limey had moved in for the hook, his forehead creased with determination, Chev was already moving his hand up to parry the blow—

A loud slapping sound reverberated throughout the park for a split second before being swallowed by the sound of the wind. Both Chev and Limey stood in surprise as Limey’s fist—inches away from the left of Chev’s face—was blocked by Chev’s own wrist. Immediately, however, it felt as though his wrist were on fire.

Clutching his wrist in a vice-like grip, Chev fell to the snow-covered ground, crying out in pain. He didn’t care anymore—any pride he thought he had disappeared as he turned away from his brother, bringing his knees up to his face and wrapping his arms around it, all while keeping a tight leash on his left wrist. Tears began to roll down his face. Shame overwhelmed Chev as he willed his tears to cease, but his thoughts were in vain.

He wasn’t worthy enough for the Icewatch. He didn’t think he was worthy enough for anything.

Character sheet · by **Chev** on May 27th, 2013, 4:30 am

Chev felt Limey’s gentle hand on his shoulder, attempting to comfort him in his own silent, strange way. A swell of hot, raw anger surged through Chev’s body. He stubbornly refused Limey’s consolation, jerking his shoulder to free it and turning to face the opposite direction. His older brother didn’t say anything, causing his fleeting moment of anger to become heavy and burdensome shame.

I should be the one who’s angry, thought Chev, burying his head into his knees. Why do I feel like a monster?

The tension between the two was great, the wailing wind filling in the silence between Chev and Limey. Both of them remained still for quite a while, thinking about and reflecting over their actions.

Chev heard the crunching of feet against snow in front of him, but his head still retained its contemptible position in between his knees. A meek hand ruffled his snow-ridden hair.

“Chev.”

He didn’t look up.

“Chev . . .” Limey repeated, using his hands to lift Chev’s tear-stricken face. His eyes were a rich purple—a true reflection of what he felt. Melancholia, sadness, shame and anger all blended into one emotion that Chev couldn’t describe with words.

Limey started to say something, but he fell silent, watching as Chev picked himself from off the ground—

—and punched him square in the jaw. The punch connected with a satisfying crack, which caused Limey to jump up and recoil in pain, stumbling backwards until he fell on his rear. A memorable bruise would last there for days. Limey looked up at Chev’s standing figure, a brief flicker of gall crossing his face, but watching the tears cascade down Chev’s face softened his features once more.

“You deserved that,” Chev said rancorously.

Limey’s gaze turned to the ground.

“Now . . .” Chev continued. “Let’s stop this. I can’t do this anymore. Okay?” Limey didn’t look up from the ground. “Okay . . . ?” repeated Chev, quieter this time. “I’m sorry. Whatever I did to anger you—I’m sorry. Let’s go back to . . . to what it used to be. Before this. I’m sorr—”

“Petch, Chev!” Limey finally looked up, his face wrenched with pain. Chev detected a hint of tears in his eyes. “You didn’t even do anything! I should be saying sorry,” he choked.

Chev stared at him like he was talking in a foreign language.

Limey sighed with disdain, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry ‘bout that, little Chev. It was pretty childish, I know . . .” His voice trailed off, becoming quieter with each word. He was bad with apologies. Despite this, however, Chev smiled contentedly.

***

When the pair got back to the Hold, they had no explanation for the numerous bruises that had appeared all over their faces. Occasionally, they would share a clandestine and utterly mischievous smile that became a mystery to the other Frostfawns.

They noticed, however, that they’d become considerably closer since that day.

by **Noblesse** on June 22nd, 2013, 12:59 pm

Chev Frostfawn :

True nobility lies in being superior to your former self

If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, please send me a PM and we can figure it out. Heehee.

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