Closed [Antinous Training Grounds] Boiling Over (Fallon)

The stresses of the last season finally get to Orion

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This shining population center is considered the jewel of The Sylira Region. Home of the vast majority of Mizahar's population, Syliras is nestled in a quiet, sprawling valley on the shores of the Suvan Sea. [Lore]

[Antinous Training Grounds] Boiling Over (Fallon)

Postby Orion Michaels on August 22nd, 2013, 3:19 am

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91st of Summer
Antonious Training Grounds
3rd Bell


She was gone.

Why was she gone!?

Things had been going so well. He could have sworn they were. Not a bad word spoken between the two, tender moments, and a trust was being built. They'd been able to rely on each other whether in a social setting or while being assaulted by terrible Zith.

All of that was now completely finished. Kyra had left Syliras without a word.

The day was young, Syna's rays a few bells from piercing the darkness, and Orion found himself in the training grounds, up on the roofs where boys where turned into men. More and more often he found himself spending his own time here. It was a place he could blow off steam without judgement, a place he could channel all of the stress and anger which built up and take it out on a dummy that wouldn't hate him for it. At these hours, the place was nearly vacant, save for a few other squires, knights, and the weaponmaster. Torchlight lightly illuminated the training areas, giving those who trained an opportunity to practice low light maneuvers. Orion, of course, was far from interested. His mind was elsewhere.

His mind was everywhere.

The majority of the season had gone without issue, but the last part of it, well, it was absolutely awful. Dinah had all but said she didn't believe he would see his way through to the end. A slap in his face for everything he'd given up and everything he'd put into his training. He'd risked his life, saved quite a few lives in the process. For her to say those things...

"Petch!!"

Orion threw his body at one of the training dummies, ramming his shoulder into the lifeless doll, sending them both crashing to the ground. Graceless, angry, and broken, Orion slammed his fist into the dummy again and again. Why would Dinah do this to him? Why say the words she'd said?

Slowly, breathing heavily, Orion pushed himself back to his feet, dragging the wooden post up behind him. His hand throbbed from where he beat it into the dummy, but he pushed the pain aside to set the post up again. This evening was just beginning. His frustrations were at their end. Stalking back over to where he first stood, he reached down to where the pile of training weapons he'd grabbed lay. Axes, flails, spears, swords. He might go through them all before the evening finished. Grabbing the most familiar to him, a long sword, Orion turned his attention to his wooden foe, still fighting off the thoughts which assaulted his mind.

Dinah was someone he should have been able to trust. He'd relied on her as someone he could seek advice from, confide in, believe in, but she couldn't return the favor. It seemed she thought he was going to run. He'd never thought of doing so until then.

Tightening his grasp on the grip of the sword, both hands wrapped around it, he charged forward, raising the blade to strike the stationary foe. His mind would supply the real enemy, after all.

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Last edited by Orion Michaels on August 25th, 2013, 4:19 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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[Antinous Training Grounds] Boiling Over

Postby Fallon on August 23rd, 2013, 9:05 pm

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Fallon could hear it. The distinctive shouting and grunting of agitation resting upon her ears, the crack of wood upon wood. There was a cry, a curse splitting the air, and her eyes winced almost to each unrelenting blow upon its target. She swallowed, eyes looking through the unwavering gloom and onwards through the flickering darkness. Dulled steps crunched upon the ground, the crackle of torch light

She had come to her usual place of lurking one last time. During of course her more favoured bell, or at least before the events that occurred before. She never quite felt comfortable in the times of darkness after that event. Then again, she did not exactly feel comfortable anywhere now. Accept perhaps for her own isolation with Orvin. People were difficult creatures, silently judging behind looks a strange wanting to protect and to shield those against trouble. Was she weak? A feeble creature that could not defend herself?

Shut up. Just… But you are weak. A nothing. A thing. Silence.

It was perhaps why she was here now. To find her own self resolve and sense of peace to the bleak world that was before her. It was something she had to do alone, less she would crumble and disappear into her own depths. Fingers rubbed at the weakness in her shoulder, the tips massaging at the bandaging there and at the healing wound underneath. Take it easy, don’t over stretch it. Although it would not bleed it was still torn tissue that had knotted and scarred.

Soon though, the full extent of it would be in her grasp. And when that happened she would maintain the brave face she had put on for the sake of others.

The crashing of the training dummies caught her attention, the familiar shape of the squire there in the torch light. She was far from stupid in sensing the energy there, the turbulent rage that was rising up and controlling his every action. She felt the fingers twitch around her own training blade, the faithful tulwar that she had chosen the last season and she would continue to use.

Hovering behind him, she watched. Lips pursed together, a glazed expression of careful thought going through her head. No, she could not interrupt him yet, not whilst he was consume by whatever it was. Let him burn it out, let the flood subside and when an opening came to raise her voice and announce her presence.

Let it lie for a little while. Let the fire burn and smother itself. Then strike.

“You know… it won’t fall over and die right?” she spoke in a low, crisp tone, the eyes peering ever at his back, “No matter how much you crack at it. It’s just wood after all.”
x
FALLON
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Fallon is a Master of Intimidation, "At this level, a Master intimidator often unconsciously intimidates their target unless the intimidator monitors their stance, tone, and actions to prevent this. Master intimidators will nearly always have a reputation that precedes them unless they have taken special care to prevent it."
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[Antinous Training Grounds] Boiling Over

Postby Orion Michaels on August 24th, 2013, 5:47 am

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Orion was too consumed by his fury to notice the approach of a familiar face. The burning anger inside of him fueled his actions and blinded him to his surroundings. All he could see was the weapon in his hands and the foe before him. Even if that foe was represented by a simple dummy. It had to pay. It would deal with everything he had to give, and it would do so without a bit of complaint. Not that he would have stopped if it could complain.

He closed the distance between him and his target with a few long strides. He brought the blade back and unleashed a powerful horizontal blow, a loud clack echoing throughout the training area as he made contact. Stepping through his swing, Orion ducked as though to avoid an attack from his imaginary foe. With his back to the enemy, he twisted his body to the right, then snapped to the left, delivering another flat blow to the wooden frame.

Dinah hadn't be the only one to cause him problems. But she was where it started. How was he supposed to trust her when she couldn't return that same favor? How could he ever rely on her?

What a joke he was. He was confiding in her as he trained early in the morning. Who else was going to watch after Emily right now?

Orion continued circling his target, delivering a flurry of blows. His hands were ringing, sweat dripped down his face, but the scowl never left his face. Strike left. Strike right. Overhead swing. Again and again, crashing down on the defenseless target. Bring it down, crush it down to it's knees until he couldn't resist anymore. Until it felt as hopeless as he did.

Orion wasn't ready for fatherhood. He'd been told that no one was every truly ready to be called 'daddy' or 'papa', but most people were at least prepared for the possibility. How many would have a four year old thrust into their lives? How many, after twenty six years of being selfish, would have to figure out how to care for another human being? Was he being out of line? Was it so unexpected that he wouldn't know how to cope?

Orion stepped back, creating a little distance from the dummy, trying to catch a brief moment of respite. Breathing heavily, reached up and wiped the sweat from his brow while readying himself for another bout with his own pity. That was when she spoke.

Was it really time for a joke?

Said the hypocrite.

He shot a vicious glare back at Fallon, turning his focus immediately back to the dummy. With a loud grunt, he closed the space between him and it. His grip tensed again, and he pulled back the blade to strike again. It crashed against the 'shoulder' of the target. Once. Twice. Three times. Four times. Again and again he brought his weapon up and sent it screaming down to decimate his enemy. He couldn't hear himself yelling with each blow. There was a ringing in his ears, and his hands almost felt like they were going numb. He could tell what was going to happen next before it did. The weapon wasn't meant to take this kind of beating. It was weak, weaker, and finally, with a loud snap, it gave out, breaking into two pieces.

Orion paused for a moment, staring at the ground. He didn't care who saw him like this. Especially if it was Fallon. His breathing was loud. Being enraged was exhausting. But he wasn't done yet.

What was he supposed to do with Emily? He had to keep her, right? It was his duty. He'd promised Roxy if she wasn't able to care for her anymore, then he would take custody. Why couldn't she have timed it better? When he was pulling in thousands of Mizas a season. When he was empty? Now that he had this, had the squires, this knighthood, he actually felt like he was accomplishing something. Would all his efforts be for naught?

Orion turned and threw the remains of the long sword away from them both before storming over to the pile of training weapons and procuring another one. "What do you want," he hissed at his suite mate. "Come to ridicule me for being out so late? Make jokes at my expense? They couldn't be any worse than the jokes already put upon me." Teeth gritted, he turned away from Fallon and stared down the target again. She would just get in the way right now. He was still too worked up. Too unstable.

Too dangerous.

If she intervened, he wasn't sure what he would do to her. He couldn't think clearly right now. He didn't have time for judgement. He didn't have patience for judgement. Too much steam was stored to deal with anything but the task at hand.

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[Antinous Training Grounds] Boiling Over

Postby Fallon on August 24th, 2013, 8:00 am

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The onslaught continued, the mere grunt of acknowledgement from him echoing in its wake. It reminded her slightly of his teenage years, where a noise seemed to apparently provide just as good of an answer as a slightly more vocal one. She rubbed her brow, her lips pursing together as he continued. Riled up and angry, she continued to keep her distance. But not without the tight hold growing on her blade. Who knew where he would end up at present. There was a deep intake of breath, the forced steadying of breathing. She could already feel the nagging urgency to leave in the back of her mind, to back away and hide.

No. She could not do that. She could not let herself do that.

Or more over, she could not leave him like that. Not without at least trying to bring a small glimmer of sense to him. A seemingly impossible task at present. The wood sword collapsed, the sheer blows having ruined its weak frame. It splintered and clattered, to be brushed aside in an instant and replaced mere ticks after wards. His spluttering his however, did not go unnoticed. There was a moment of silence as she regarded him, remembering all the rumours that now circulated around him.

Fallon straightened, the dulled eyes growing sharp as the distinctive husky growl took over her voice.

“Unfortunately I am all out of wit and humour,” eyes burned at him, the tensing of the jaw and her back acting out of reflex, “Besides, I think the one man audience would not appreciate poor tasting jokes.”

Annoyance? No, it was far from that. It was more confirmation that she was far from the mindset of stepping around the situation. Or more correctly she was far from interested in the spewing of bullshyke. If he wanted to vent, to scream and to shout, then he could have his screaming and shouting. She would simply just throw it straight back at him. Even she was coming close to her wits ends. Still, she forced herself to answer even if he did not want it.

"I’m a night owl when it comes to training,” she kept her eyes trained on him, "So I can’t comment on you being out late. Besides, things of late have kept me away from here, and now well… it is as best of time to do it as any. More so if you do not wish to be judged.” There was shrug, a forced one at that. Her brow creased slightly, a tilt of the head as she tried to think of words to say, "That and… well, I wanted to make sure… well that you were alright. I mean, it’s obvious you’re not, I mean, petch.” She paused and shook her head to gather her words, "I’m here if you need well… whatever you need.”

It was not sympathy, it was honesty. The last little bit she could muster in the already tense air. She doubted that he would realise that though.

And so the squire forced herself into taking a single leap of faith.

"Come at me,” the wood blade was turned in her grip. Though the meaning was far from that. "Vent at me,” would be more correct. She rolled her shoulders back her fingers of her left hand tucking round behind her and then lacing into her belt. It would keep it out of the way and out of harm. In theory at least. Nostrils flared, her chin lifting slightly as if posing a challenge to him.

Or her own self-redemption; depending on how one was to look at it. Not that he knew about the suffering of her own path, or at least as far as she was aware. She readied herself to receive a unrelenting punishment of attacks, to focus only on defending and tiring him out. After that, well even she did not know. Either way, her troubles and worried would have to be smothered by a brave face and a cool head right now. She could not buckle and add more fuel to the fire.

She rocked on her toes, eyes darting briefly down at the blade and then back up at Orion. Gods, she would even let herself use that if necessary, or at least it should help in keeping him on his toes.

"I’m serious. Now come!”
x
FALLON
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Fallon is a Master of Intimidation, "At this level, a Master intimidator often unconsciously intimidates their target unless the intimidator monitors their stance, tone, and actions to prevent this. Master intimidators will nearly always have a reputation that precedes them unless they have taken special care to prevent it."
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[Antinous Training Grounds] Boiling Over

Postby Orion Michaels on August 24th, 2013, 5:29 pm

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Her words fell on deaf ears. It was as though she was angry with him for being angry, and he didn't want to deal with that. It was him and that stupid dumb ass, petching retarded training post. He'd break every weapon in this place before the night was through, before he was satisfied, before he could feel any sort of peace. He didn't want her judging glare. He didn't want her help. He didn't want..

Come at me!

Orion stopped in his tracks, no longer advancing on the dummy. Had she really challenged him?

His mind felt fragmented. He couldn't focus on her.

Did she really want to step in front of his blade? Wooden as it may be?

Gods, this was impossible. Dinah. Emily. Hadyn?

Orion turned slowly, cold, blue eyes falling on Fallon. Was this really what she wanted? He'd not hold back, not even a little bit. He wasn't here to talk or think, even if it seemed unavoidable.

"FINE!"

The former doctor wasn't about to waste any time on this. Dispatch of her, then go about his breakdown. That was simple enough, right?

Who could care about anything when someone had dropped something on him as big as Hadyn had? It was supposed to be a little fun. Have a few drinks, share a few laughs, and have one passionate night. He knew it was supposed to end there, but he was the idiot who'd gone along with her to that outpost. Where they'd argued when she tried to find out about how he ticked. It was stupid, but that wasn't where the issue was.

When she contacted him and told me that there'd be another kid on the way, all there was to do was laugh. From zero to two in a matter of days? It was too much. It was all too much. How would he be expected to care for the both of them. Hadyn had said he didn't have to do anything, but...

Orion was off in a moment, feet crashing against the ground as he closed on Fallon, bring his weapon overhead. He would send her off on her way as quickly as possible. A crushing downward swing was his first movement. Pulling the blade through, he finished the first slash with the blade held off to his side and back. Following through with his momentum, he tried to drive his shoulder into the young woman, and once past her, he shifted his weight back and spinning in a half circle to face her, used that power to deliver a cross body swing.

Hadyn...gods curse me...

He didn't have any income anymore. While he did have some saved up, he was fearful he'd have to make a call between the knighthood and his children, present and future. Would he have to return to a life which brought him no fulfillment? It should have been a sobering thought. Instead it just pissed him off further.

"What do you want, Fallon!?" How could she hope to help him now?

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[Antinous Training Grounds] Boiling Over

Postby Fallon on August 24th, 2013, 9:10 pm

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Well that got his attention.

The hilt went skywards, the tip down across to her shoulder as the charge came swinging down upon her. She did not move her left hand from where she had tucked it, and let the hard wood crack against the other. There was the roar of a mad and angry beast; of one so wrapped up in his own distraught mind that only wild swings ruled his war path. She moved to the side, the long sword slipping down the curve of the blade. With his blade finishing at his side, the squire faced him side on, the tulwar taking the lead.

There was a second side step to avoid the barging shoulder, her eyes fixed where possible on his, staring relentlessly into his very core. The eyes told a lot of things after all. There was the catching of blade on blade, the pressure of two surfaces grinding against each other. A block against a swing. It groaned but her eyes did not waver.

“You have already decided my answer have you not Orion?” there was only the cold glaze back, a sign of her defences rising up, the growl turning thicker and more distinctive by the second. She could feel her adrenal pumping, the call of battle reaching her, the twisting of her very core and djed as it gave a tremble. The fingers clawed deeper, and the left hand slipped completely beneath the belt, and remained in place behind the leather. Nostrils flare, the throat constricting as her toes dug in, the inner curve of the blade resting neatly across her chest.

She put force behind it, holding ground as she continued her defence. The long sword loomed in, brute force causing the edge to come closer. Space had to be made. It was vital.

There was a tilt of the blade, a quick turn as she used its natural curve to her advantage. She stepped back and away, body twisting so once more it was side on to him. The tip gave a hover before her, the hilt lower now and resting at a comfortable height. It snaked, slowly bobbing back and forth at the angered squire.

“What do you think I want Orion?” she rested on her toes, making herself ready to weave her way around him. Be nimble, be quick, and do not face him head on. Her left fingers gave a twitch, “Tell me Orion! Answer my call!”

It was a guttural tone, cold, sharp, but not without a blunt sharp care. Her shoulders rolled, her djed turning slightly within. He seemed far from the mindset of holding back, so why should she. Skin prickled, the hairs raising as the distinct numbing sensation captivated her secured hand. There was a gasp, a sharp twinge as she felt the threads pull and poke, the gritting of teeth as her once cold look turned into a full glare.

“That all you got?” She made herself ready to evade, the life sapping slowly from the elbow downwards in her left arm. It was time to get the show on the road.

"I said, come at me!"
x
FALLON
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Fallon is a Master of Intimidation, "At this level, a Master intimidator often unconsciously intimidates their target unless the intimidator monitors their stance, tone, and actions to prevent this. Master intimidators will nearly always have a reputation that precedes them unless they have taken special care to prevent it."
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[Antinous Training Grounds] Boiling Over

Postby Orion Michaels on August 25th, 2013, 2:52 am

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The reverberations screamed through Orion's arms as their blades met initially. She didn't know what she was doing. She didn't know who she was getting in the way of, or so his delusions whispered. What a foolish woman. Was she trying to toy with him? Did she think she'd improved so much that she could play a game? He'd show her.

He let out an annoyed grunt as she deftly sidestepped his shoulder charge, and with teeth gritted tight, he tried as he could to overpower Fallon as again their blades crashed. Regardless of her skills, he was bigger and likely stronger. He'd just drive her to the ground, use his superior mass to end this quickly.

She growled at him, challenging him further.

He scowled back, putting more weight on his long sword, transferring the pressure to her weapon, and to her. He twisted the blade in its place, so that the flat of the weapon would grind against the edge of hers. He slid one hand free from the grip, sliding it along the length of the weapon to add a second point of force to continue driving her down and back. Just when he finally thought she would break, Fallon used the natural curve of her own weapon to slip free of their lock, quickly creating space between them, her tulwar wavering mockingly as she shouted at him again.

His forearms burned from the previous clash, but his energy was still out of control. He would clash and clash again until one of them dropped, or she admitted defeat. Yet she remained so defiant, so sure of her self. He couldn't handle it.

"I don't know what you want! You come up here mad at me?! What's your problem!?" Orion again rushed forward, eyes locked on the young woman before him, but his mind was locked on another.

Despite everything else, there was one thing, one person who had sent him flying over the edge, left him angry, seething, and full of rage. Kyra. Wonderful, lovely, Kyra. The beginnings of..no, not a relationship. It wasn't definable, but it didn't matter what it would have been. What it could have been. It was nothing now. Just like every other time he started to have stirrings. Just like every other time he cared. Gone. Lyla. Gone. Kyra. Gone. Basha. Gone. Even Fallon herself had left Orion wondering if he would see her again. He'd have to do everything alone.

Fallon was just an obstacle to that.

As he advanced on her, again grasping the blade in two hands he brought it to his right, swinging it across his body, trying to collide with and knock her weapon aside. His swing was powerful and wild, as they'd been nearly the entire evening. With some precision, maybe he'd have been effective, but just as big and powerful as his swings were, they were slow to recover from and slow to chain together. The second swing would come back across his body, again trying to push her blade aside. Advancing and swinging, advancing and swinging, trying to push her back, mess up her foot work and send her sprawling to the ground. He finished his combination of strikes by lowering his blade to the side, rotating it and raising upwards over his shoulder while jumping and swinging down to try and use the momentum his body created to deliver a finishing blow.

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[Antinous Training Grounds] Boiling Over (Fallon)

Postby Fallon on August 25th, 2013, 11:09 am

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There was a deep intake of breath, the exhaling of hot air into the cool of the night. She felt the pull of numbness, the tap of invisible fingers as she slowly pulled at her will over the limb.

"Problem? Problem!?” The voice cracked into a howl, teeth bared as a snarling trill commanded her. The once dulled beat grew loud, the cracking pulse of combat commanding her very ego. Once upon a time she was not a fighter in nature, she was simply an observer and a survivor. But now everything was different. This was the clash between a blazing energy, one of brute force for superiority. Before perhaps she would have given. Yet this was different. And she could not buckle to him. The mad, wild swing came her way. Forceful, blunt energy aiming only to harm. He would end her if he had his own way.

"Looks like you’re the one with the bit of a problem! Or maybe it’s a big problem?” She stepped her way around him, choosing to back away and let him come close instead of approaching, “Wait! Don’t tell me. I want to guess!”

Swing came after swing, a single flurry of movement from the squire. He pushed her back, he pushed her away whilst he feet remained rocking from one and the other. She pivoted, working her way to get around him, to stay away from the incoming blade. There would be little chance for her to take him head on, she knew that already. The ethereal astral hand gave a tremble as it made its presence known to her and snaked its way around her upper arm. The lip curled, turning into a grimace.

“What are you Orion? Tell me what you are!”

His blade clipped against her forward arm, her stance staggering as he leapt at her. A second hit struck across the side of her face. For a moment the world dipped into noise, a low buzzing filling the grunts and groans as she gave a stagger. There was a slowing, her eyes looking up upon his latest move. She saw the running leap, the raising of the blade. The wood came cleaving down, poised and ready to strike. It left him open, but it also would supply terrible consequences to herself.

So, she acted up the first thing that came to her mind. Fallon threw herself to one side, curling herself up and rolling across the floor. Dust kicked up, her shoulders and back kissing the ground, the tulwar tucking itself in close so she did not loose it. She placed a foot beneath her, pushing herself up with her feet as she brought out the blade once more to attack. Time was of the essence, leaving her no time to catch her breath.

Toes pressed against the ground, her forward shoulder leaning downwards, whilst the blade itself rested across her diagonally. Elbow leading she pressed herself onwards, the scream of legs and muscles as they were forced to go fast, the cry for speed as the adrenal raced. The ethereal hand shot forward, clawed and open towards his throat. Force him to subdue, force him into submission. Make him see sense.

"Are you a man? Or are you a mouse? Answer me Orion! Answer the call!” Came the howling roar.

She cared not for pain. She cared not for hurts. There was nothing left to feel, but her own self redemption. She closed in, the screaming of blood, the taste of iron within her mouth. Fingers tightened, her palm beginning to grow damp with sweat. She knew of pain, she knew of agony. Perhaps not of the same sort he was going through, but she understood it.

She remembered her own moments of darkness, her own trembling insecurities, where she would hide away within herself for her own safety. She remembered stretching out her hands to grasp at those that would give support. She remembered the sensation of drowning within her own problems, unable to swim or reach the surface. How the suffering would consume the very senses, the very ego of her being. It would force her into running away, and then eventually she would come back.

The blade came carving upwards, the curve facing skywards as she slashed up at him. Teeth gritted, cold sweat ran.

She would come back to answer the call.

“Answer the call!”
x
FALLON
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Fallon is a Master of Intimidation, "At this level, a Master intimidator often unconsciously intimidates their target unless the intimidator monitors their stance, tone, and actions to prevent this. Master intimidators will nearly always have a reputation that precedes them unless they have taken special care to prevent it."
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[Antinous Training Grounds] Boiling Over (Fallon)

Postby Orion Michaels on August 26th, 2013, 7:01 pm

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She continued shrieking at him, asking him questions he couldn’t answer. His problems were endless. They were what drove him to this breaking point. They were what drove him to swing at her with reckless abandon. Last time they’d sparred he’d feared laying a blow upon her. Things had clearly changed over time.

”Shut up! Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!” There was an almost satisfaction in his expression as his powerful blows began to find their way through her defenses. First to the arm, then to the side of the face. She would learn her lesson, she would leave him alone. She would hurt for it. ”You could have just let me figure this out on my own, but you’ve always got to interfere!”

THWAAACK!

His leaping strike had failed, the weapon slamming against the ground violently, echoing faintly throughout the grounds. By this time the two had caught the attention of a few that were training nearby, and more notably, the weaponmaster, noting that things had gone a little further than training, had moved over to keep an eye on the display. Both of them were more skilled than the last time their blades had clashed. Or maybe it was that neither of them were holding back any further. He was ready to let go of everything, let this anger, this hate, this . . nothingness . . fuel him. It was clear to him he could only rely on himself. Others could count on him, but he, Orion, was on his own.

As for Fallon’s reaction? ”I HAVE NO PETCHING IDEA WHY YOU’RE SO UPSET!”

With labored breaths, Orion rose from his knee, spinning the weapon around in his hand as he sought a brief moment of respite. Just a tick to get his breath back.

Stopping his assault may have spelled the end of it.

After sucking down a few deep breaths again, he was off again, closing the gap between the two. His advance was slowed considerably when it felt like someone grabbed ahold of his throat and started trying to choke him. Somewhat startled, his eyes widened, and with his focus snapped, he wasn’t quite ready to defend himself from her follow up.

Orion jerked his weapon into place, barely able to get it into place. His confusion at the spectral assault and the uppercut swing put him in a bad position to defend himself. When the tulwar met his long sword, his weapon went flying through the air, falling harmlessly to the ground beside them.

Instead of yielding, Orion lowed his shoulder and tried to tackle Fallon to the ground. He raised his fist to strike her, but held it above her, choosing instead to yell. ”Answer the call!? Which one? The one where I got a girl pregnant years ago, and now I have to care for the child?” He stared down to his fellow squire, continuing to yell. ”Or maybe the part where I saw some of the most horrifying creatures and deaths I’ve ever come across a few days back, and I’m not quite sure how to deal with it? Is that he call you want me to answer? Oh, wait, I’m not done. How about the part where I’ve gotten a blacksmith pregnant and I’m actually going to have two kids! I’ll be answering that one, too!”

Shaking his head, Orion rolled away from her, rising to his feet while rubbing his throat. ”Or maybe, maybe I was starting to feel for someone again, Fallon, and they’ve left, just like every other time. I don’t know what I am, what I’m doing, what I’m going to do. I don’t know what petching call you want me to answer, but I’ve got to figure that out. By myself, it seems.” He stalked over to his weapon and picked it back up. Standing over where the long sword had lain, he stared down at it, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do.
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[Antinous Training Grounds] Boiling Over (Fallon)

Postby Fallon on August 26th, 2013, 8:20 pm

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The pressure of his screams and anger came racing down, tumbling and crashing into the world around them. It fell with a mighty roar and shattered within an instant. His rage was released, hot and burning, whilst she followed through with the attack. He had gone all out, and so she followed suit.

“Whoever said I was upset? Whoever said I was angry?”

The blow made its way through, forcing a disarm onto him. The aiding choke disabling him long enough for her to get in close. Not that it stopped him from continuing. Taken off her feet, she crashed to the ground, bouncing before he was upon her, fist raised to strike. But he did not. He exploded upon her, his yell shaking through the air as he let it all go. He needed to, and she let him, silently regarding and listening with baited breath to his every word.

And it was only when he was finished did she bring herself to ask.

“Feel better now?” she breathed looking straight up at him. The fiery gaze that once existed there crept away, the dulled glaze taking over. A low sigh escaped, the once sharp, growling tone calmed with solemn eyes staring up at him. Her left arm lay limp, un-tucked and free from its previous holding. It obviously came free from where it was when she was barged to the ground. She exhaled when he rolled off, her mind simply working through his words not to lecture but to encourage. Then again she was not exactly good at such morale speeches.

As he walked to his blade, she propped herself up and placed the limp limb on her lap. There was no point in moving just yet. The numb limb gave a twitch before stilling again.

“Don’t think, you’re the only one with problems,” she rubbed at her brow with her able hand, “Even I have my own share that I’d rather not have. I mean, yes I’m upset with things, yes I’m angry at things, yes I think I’m little more than dirt that should crawl away into the shadows, and that I am nothing more than a liability to everyone… But…” She pressed her palm against her eyes as if to cover them, “I just… just put on a brave face. Because that is all I can do. Because that is the only thing I am good at. That and… well, getting you to vent it seems.”

She did not look at him, or more over her heart could not let herself look at him. She could feel the mask she had put on crumble and fall, her eyes clenching shut as she tried to push down those bubbling emotions. Pain, despair, defeat, the great looming isolation that grasped her very ego. But she could not stop, not yet at least. These internal wounds needed to be sterilised, less they would fester.

“Do not think yourself alone, do not think yourself abandoned. For we are squires. For we are knights to be. For we will rise even when all else seems to stand against us. For we are survivors within a bleak new world after the near end of it. For we have more brothers and sisters than we can ever imagine beside us. We are defenders of peace after all,” she gave a choke and shook her head, “But, I bet you’re not listening to a word I’m saying. Or you’re only hearing what you want to hear.”

The ethereal hand snaked its way after him, feeling through the air, fingers swaying slightly before they rested upon his shoulder. A gentle squeeze, a slight push of pressure to reassure and comfort, before it withdrew and snaked its way back to her. From there she would begin the slow, careful process of reattaching and lining up.

“Gods, I’ve stared into the face of death. Walked through dangerous lands scared out my wits. I have been held back and tormented by creatures. I have screamed in the rain and danced in the thunder. I looked upon a creature who threatened the existence of my friends. I felt the blood fall upon my hands and the guilt to flee controlling my every waking moment. I have been beaten. I have been broken. I have cried in the night and had none answer my call. And now I am facing my greatest challenge yet,” she removed her hand and stared upon his back, eyes wincing the tint of blood shot lacing its way in. Fingers grasped at her left elbow as the nerves burned and attached themselves, the once seeping cold rushing out to be replaced with warmth, “But hey, this isn’t about me. This is about you. And you only. You force others away to protect yourself. Or is it because you’re scared?”

Finger tips dug in as she felt the limb spasm, a sharp intake marking her discomfort.

“Never mind. Don’t mind my nonsense. I doubt you care anyway for what I have to say. Just know… well. I’m here.”
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FALLON
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Fallon is a Master of Intimidation, "At this level, a Master intimidator often unconsciously intimidates their target unless the intimidator monitors their stance, tone, and actions to prevent this. Master intimidators will nearly always have a reputation that precedes them unless they have taken special care to prevent it."
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