(Katshika Falls) A Days Practice (Open)

[Ulric]

“Madness?” Ulric tensed, his eyes narrowing to slits. How dare she. He reached for his knife, but the Gasvik seized his wrist in both hands, preventing him from completing the motion. “Apweon wen aweo dan eomadl dajb wein aedo dolmed,” it snarled, and the warrior released his grip, duly chastened. As long as they lived within the mountain, the unprovoked shedding of blood would only seal their death warrants. “None of them understand,” Ulric murmured when the girl went to retrieve her belongings. “They have no idea what we have suffered, and they speak to us of madness? The world is mad. The gods are mad. That is why they must be purged.” He glanced up at the girl, forcing his lips to curl into a smile as he sought to calm the faint, chaotic music that was echoing in the back of his mind. “Yes, let us walk together,” he said. “We also have not spoken for a long while, and it will do us – me – some good. But do not call me ser. I have no honor to speak of, despite what the tree said.” He began to walk beside her, but kept his distance. “What station does it play in the mountain?”

[Aiven]

Aiven cast him an apologetic look, "I'm sorry, Ulric, but I don't quite follow?" She eyed him with sincere golden eyes. "You are very interesting, you know. I like the way you speak. It is something much more than ordinary." She gave him a bright smile. "But, could you be more clear to me. What is this station you speak of?" She began walking, keeping her head up and body alert in a natural Endal fashion.

[Ulric]

“Which kind?” Ulric moved closer again. He didn’t like having to repeat himself, even if his words were often cryptic. “Does it ride one of the eagles? Does it cook? Does it polish? We know it is not one of the shyke slingers, for it speaks to us boldly.” He laid a rough hand on her throat, half wanting to wring her neck, but knowing the consequences it would provoke. He didn’t understand how she tolerated his presence. Doesn’t she know what we are? he raged. Doesn’t she smell the reek of death upon us? He wanted to murder the girl. “Look into our eyes,” he said, “and tell us what you see.”

[Aiven]

Aiven looked at him unsurely when his hands came to rest around her neck, but did what he asked of her, not out of fear, but because he seemed like he really wanted to know. She looked deep into his eyes for long drawn out moments, before answering. "I see...hesitation." She gave him a soft smile, "I see a person who is much more than he seems to be. I see things that are not of my concern, and will never be." She lifted a small hand, and layed it on his wrist. "As for my station, I no long ride an eagle. I do not cook, nor do I polish...often. I just dwell, without any meaning or reason other than I can." She removed his hand from her neck, and took her place beside him, "Shall we press on. You seem like you could use something to eat." She turned her head, and offered him a kind look.

[Ulric]

Ulric’s eyes narrowed. She speaks falsely, cautioned the whisper inside his head, but he forced it away. He was tired of listening to whispers. They always spoke to him of truth and lies, skewing his tenuous grip on reality, but he couldn’t bring himself to doubt the girl’s sincerity. She was one of them. The ones that wanted him dead. But at the same time, she was different. Her eagle was gone, leaving her bereft of power. It would be so easy to murder her. He wanted to tear her small body asunder with his hands, to shatter bone and feel the warm spurt of blood upon his cheek. He wanted it more than anything, but he could do nothing more than tremble with impotent rage, for fear of the dark passions that stirred in his chest. Does she not anger? He wondered as she gently removed his hand. Nothing he did seemed to goad her to lash out against him, to bestow upon him the violence he so desperately craved. She was different because she did not anger. She was beyond his understanding. Again, the vaguely child-like expression returned to his face, only to be replaced by a frown. Ulric considered her words, biting down on his lip until he tasted blood. He needed to understand. No matter what the whispers told him, he needed to know why she didn’t wish him dead. “Yes, food,” he rasped. “But first, it must stand upon its hands. It must finish what it has begun.” He peered at her expectantly.

[Aiven]

Aiven rose a brow, and a playful smile formed on her lips. "Did you not just see me make a fool of myself. The Katshika falls have already had a taste of my embarrassment, and now you urge me to continue to feed it?" She shook her head, and let out a small laugh, before looking him in the eyes. "You seriously wish me to do this task, don't you?" She let her expression change a bit, but it still held her amusement. "I have not the right clothes. Cloaks will not hide my body from surrounding eyes. You would have me stand naked on my hands?!" She laughed again. "That is madness."

Her eyes glanced over to the spot she had been practicing at before. "He wants the bird to stand on it's hands? The little bird will do it, if he does too." She crossed her arms and returned his expectant look.

[Ulric]

Ulric sucked in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “Naked on its hands? Does it care more for its modesty, or taking a step onto the pages of history?” He spat on the ground, a bit flustered because he hadn’t considered her doing a handstand without clothes. We killed the last woman we saw naked, he flinched, his mind was beset by a torrent of memories. The knife. The blood. The rapture. He’d slain many people over the years, but that murder had horrified even him, earning the notice of Krysus herself. “We will not look,” he spoke at last. “Its tender flesh shall not be profaned by these eyes.” He was certain of that, for he profaned everything he encountered. There was no redemption. The only change he wrought upon this world was destruction.“Witness.” Ulric didn’t know how to stand on his hands, but what he did have was the Gasvik. And he was going to cheat. “Oeamomd aad,” he muttered, then when his familiar seemed confused, made a few gestures to demonstrate what he wanted. “Sunaom dwe qwada,” replied the Gasvik, its eyes widening as it finally understood what he desired. Then it burst into peals of laughter. Bastard, Ulric glowered, wanting to kick the creature in the face. Instead, he bent down, placing both hands on the ground, and kicked his legs up with as much force as he could muster. For a moment, he was falling. Then the Gasvik grabbed him around the waist, helping Ulric balance as he carried the full weight of his body on his arms, keeping his legs rigid. “Little bird?” For once, he was staring up at her, prepared to look away.

[Aiven]

Aiven watched him thoroughly impressed, "Very impressive, Ulric." She smiled at him, but it faded when he had signaled for her to take her turn. She felt a bit of dread wash over her, but shook it off.

Sitting on the ground where she stood, she shut her eyes and took a breath, mimicking her earlier movements. After a few seconds she opened her eyes and almost weightlessly switched her weight to her hands. She smiled, she could always manage to get on her hands just before she- Suddenly losing balance her body fell sideways, knocking into Ulric before hitting the ground with a painful thud.

"Uhg...every single time..."

[Ulric]

What’s the point of this? Ulric frowned up at the Gasvik. He’d never had cause to stand on his hands before, nor did he believe it was the slightest bit useful. It was the sort of thing people did purely because they could. Well, we prefer to keep our feet on the ground, he thought smugly, swaying his legs back and forth. The Gasvik gave him a peeved look. Taking his right hand off the ground, Ulric reached up and pinched his familiar. It kneed him in the face. Not fair, he winced. Had he been looking at the girl, he might have anticipated her falling. But he wasn’t. Her foot struck him in the upper back, followed by the rest of her body, causing all three of them to go down in a heap. “What the petch?” Removing his face from the dirt, Ulric became aware of two things. First, that there was a naked woman sprawled on top of him, and that the Gasvik was convulsing with hysterics. “Not beside us, little bird,” he sputtered, pushing her roughly away. He gestured at a patch of ground a few paces distant. “Over there. And you,” he jabbed a finger at the Gasvik. “You can shut up.” He paced around for a few moments, brushing distractedly at his tunic. Then he whirled on the girl. “It tries again.” He would brook no argument. This time, she would stand on her hands – if not by her own talents, than because the Gasvik would keep her from falling.

[Aiven]

Aiven blinked. "Did you just..." She sat up looking at him, "shove me?" She raised a brow at him, "Do you wish this to turn into a brawl?" She stood, walking over and sitting in the spot he had directed. "And if it doesn't want to try again?" She sent him a mock challenging look of defiance. "One cannot be rude and expect to be followed. Only the fearful will follow. You have not encountered a fearful here, sir." She stared into his eyes with determined golden ones."