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 Posted: Tue Sep 13, 2011 12:51 am
Outside on the grounds of Amityville High School, just on the edge of the forest, there stood a lone figure.
A lone figure with a very large and very pointy scythe.
Sparrow Heartreed swung the scythe in question around, narrowly missing the tree he was standing near. It had been a while since he had summoned the weapon; nearly a foot taller than he was and jet black in appearance, the smokey tendrils of the scythe curled upwards, disappearing into the early morning sky. He could feel the metal of the handle through his gloves, and held it up straight so that it towered above him.
"Hmm..." Was the only sound emitted from the reaper's throat as he scrutinized it, pale blue eyes moving from the seemingly intangible bottom to the razor sharp top, dulled by magic to keep it from actually being dangerous.
Unless he used to just whack someone over the head with it, something Sparrow had yet to actually have a desire to do.
He gave a small sigh, straightened his back, and began practicing again, swinging the scythe around in the comfortable shade and anonymity of the massive trees of the forest.
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Posted: Tue Sep 13, 2011 2:00 am
The horsemen excelled at combat. Considering their much-too-long stay on the island, they had been forced to endure and battle skills were reiterated and emphasized. Perhaps it was due to this reasoning, that Aisa's presence remained concealed until the contact of scythe against scythe sent a shrieking metallic sound, resonating through their ears. The metal screamed, contorting around the fingers of it's owner, bending as if it had a will of it's own.
Even if Aisa's eardrums had been bleeding, there wouldn't have been a change on the heir of death's expression. Fortunately, it was not, leaving their eardrums, thankfully, intact.
Someone had attacked the student-- Although technically, that wasn't allowed right? Not unless it was a hunter but that was practically a invitation for death if a hunter found themselves on Halloween grounds. A quite literal invitation, considering that the heir of death would probably be one of the first in line. But with her, there probably would be little need for a line. Or more accurately stated, there wouldn't be enough of the hunter left for the rest.
However, there seemed to be an absence of onslaught as the wielder of the scythe stilled suddenly, jasmine-colored eyes staring intently at .. Was it the student?
.. No. Her intensive gaze didn't follow his movements. In fact .. was it concentrated on his .. scythe?
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Posted: Sat Sep 17, 2011 10:38 pm
The last thing Sparrow had expected was for his scythe to connect with anything other than air. So when he swung it sideways, expecting to hear nothing but the rush of air in its wake, the clash of steel upon steel was horrendous and startling. There was a terrible screech of metal, like the scream of a train's wheels on the tracks, and Sparrow's eyes widened in shock, fingers automatically seizing around the black handle of his weapon to keep it from spinning out of his hands at the sudden contact.
She was not a student - that much was clear at his first thought. But she was not a teacher either. The young woman who stood before him was lean and lithe, her face strong, black hair rippling about her shoulders in ebony waves. There was a glint in her eyes, something unreadable, but her gaze was not focused on Sparrow. Instead, those dark eyes were directed upwards, traveling the length of the weapon he held.
A horseman, though he could not remember which one she was.
"...good afternoon," Sparrow said pleasantly, nearly nose to nose with her, their scythes still digging into one another. Her strength was immense, her balance near perfect, and the horrible shriek of metal on metal still rang in Sparrow's ears, making him wince slightly.
"Can I help you, by chance?"
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Posted: Sun Oct 02, 2011 6:21 pm
"Nono. You can't help. Your posture's a little weak .. The shape and fear could be .. Too much. Unrefined but it's far too.." Her tongue ran over her lips in a distinct expression of distaste, bittersweet, ".. wrinkled." Aisa murmured, the last dragging sound of her scythe screeched as she flipped in the air, her feet skipping off the edge of Sparrow's scythe, the shadowy footing bypassed entirely. Se landed, perfectly poised, the fear radiating from the horsemen somehow giving her a firm grip on the shadow swirling ends.
Her own scythe retracted into it's hourglass shape within the few moments of her still fiery form, a few grains of sand seemed to briefly swirl around the heir, lingering in the scythe's last moments.
It was similiar to a moth attracted to a flame-- or Eris attracted to the natural entity of fire. In a nearly identical manner, scythes were one way to grab Aisa's direct attention. Only if it was a scythe of considerable quality. It seemed, that the reaper had one that had caught a mild interest from the heir of death.
"It's night, isnt it? Or is it day? Does it matter?" Light pops up here and there and you can just blow it out.
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Posted: Mon Nov 07, 2011 9:11 pm
My...posture's a little weak?
Sparrow blinked at the horsewoman, nonplussed. He had heard that they were rather...interesting (he had overheard one call them bloody mad), but to call him weak?
...and wrinkled, apparently. Sparrow's mouth was slightly agape in what was probably a rather unappealing manner. He might have said something, were it not for the fact that he was quite convinced that she could easily take his head off with that scythe of hers, which was a good size larger than his own.
And she was...standing on the blade of his scythe. Sparrow stood there, frozen in place as he was poised with the smokey weapon in his hand, the horsewoman looking down at him with an expression that he could not read.
What...the Jack...?
"It's, er..." Sparrow started to say, then stopped abruptly. He could not really answer that question properly, especially not when he did not even understand it.
She's...
"It's both," he answered finally, lifting a brow as he smiled calmly up at her. "Or neither. What do you suppose?"
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Posted: Wed Nov 09, 2011 11:24 am
"I don't 'suppose' anything. You're certain or you're not. What good are in-betweens?" Aisa's harsh voice has a note of disdain, not so much for the reaper as much as the word choice. Word choice was always important with the horsemen. Except for the contradicting fact, they probably didn't hear even half of it. Perhaps, 'bloody mad' had been an accurate term.
She did a backwards flip off of his scythe, landing neatly on a calculated step on the ground. She didn't move from that spot, she only stared critically at the reaper. She marched forward with the grace of a battle-hardened woman, her skulls only adding to the sound of her frustration, matching with her steps.
"Wrinkled. Ugh, this can be fixed."
She said that damned phrase again.
She stepped up this time, her hand reaching out to touch the transparent shady form of Sparrow's scythe, a black tendril curling around her finger. Her touch was similar to a magnet, fear being the attracted factor .. Naturally, this magnetic horsewoman radiated the fear she attracted as well. She shook her head, gritting her teeth, her fingers running along the scythe's edge. Where the edge was, she simply knew.
"It floats with the simple intention to float. No. Nonono. Every shadow needs to be with purpose, you can't just leave it like an .. untrained boil." She looked at him, pointedly, with a seething glance. Obviously, this fault laid with the owner. Even if he wasn't sure what the crime was. "Your scythe is a ghoul. Every gesture, every look, every blink is seductive. She needs to seduce effectively, not like an inexperienced lovestruck gnome."
Even an experienced gnome would have still been highly ineffective, either way.
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Posted: Thu Nov 10, 2011 11:02 pm
Sparrow was beginning to wonder how exactly one communicated with the horseman - or in this case, horsewoman. They were neither students, nor teachers, and yet neither sane nor insane.
Or maybe they were insane, and just knew how to put on a good front. Which probably actually meant that they were not as insane as they appeared.
There were way too many variables in those ideas. Sparrow's head was starting to hurt a little.
"No, of course not," he said quickly. "One never supposes, since it's the same as assuming, isn't it? And they do say that when one assumes, it makes an a** out of 'u' and 'me.'"
When in doubt - try and speak their language. Though Sparrow had no idea if this was even plausible, given the status of the horsewoman. She had been on the island trip that he had not been to, but had heard horror stories of.
The way she moved was calculated - every step, every gaze, every word. There was nothing extraneous, no useless bantering, nothing out of place. She was a woman of skill and strength, despite her rather...unusual personality.
Sparrow lifted the scythe just a slight bit as she moved her hand towards her, relaxing his stance. The edges were blurry, the smokey tendrils rising in the air. Though it might have appeared to be dulled or impractical, the weapon's edge was as sharp as it ever was, even without the usual distinction.
"...a ghoul?" repeated Sparrow, staring at the weapon. He had not ever really considered it to have a gender, seeing as how it was...well, an inanimate object, but now that he thought of it...
...interesting.
One glance back at the horsewoman revealed her pointed glare. Some part of Sparrow's pride shriveled and died.
"Er," he said. "How exactly does one.....resolve said inexperience?"
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Posted: Mon Nov 28, 2011 9:46 pm
"Soon. Soon, you can get the resolve." She murmured, suddenly occupied with drawing a undentifiable object in the tree bark before her, split from her ealier attack. "Although .. experience is another matter entirely. You can't have a pumpkin go two ways. Unless you slice it four ways." Aisa explained, leaving the questioning boil to stare at his not-yet-gendered scythe. Her pumpkin analogy too-- Pumpkins were a sensitive matter in themself.
One hand reached up to grab a low tree branch, swinging herself upwards to disappear through the foliage away from Sparrow and the direction of the school. One might wonder where she was headed to .. but horsemen were everywhere and anywhere. The last Sparrow would see of her was the black tails that disappeared from sight also, ecidently, heading someplace some student would never know.
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