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 Posted: Wed Jun 16, 2010 1:36 pm
Bataar was not entirely sentimental about his bow, and had used it once or twice simply to bash people. With the nomadic life his family had carried on with for decades, it was impractical to have a weapon and not use it, no matter how terrible. He might have had better luck relying on a firm sort of weapon, especially with his build, but before now he’d relied on wrestling when his bow was of no use. Wrestling from today on would be a useless thing for months, until he healed almost completely. If he couldn’t take a good blow to the chest anymore, he couldn’t wrestle. It was as simple as that. He needed a weapon that could keep his enemies at a distance enough so they couldn’t damage him any further, and the sword would allow just that sort of range. It was the perfect weapon for his new situation, although his chest was not in a terribly ideal predicament.
As far as he could see, the bow probably had held him back, because once he was healed he felt he might be nearly perfect to fight, with the ability both to use a sword, and to wrestle. He knew where he wanted to be ideally, and to get there he would have to figure out how to use this sword as well as he possibly could. It would take a lot of time, as well as effort, but he felt impressively capable. ”So it did.” he admitted of the bow, running a long finger along the curved metal of his new weapon. It was the most fitting thing he’d ever held in his hand, and he knew he’d have the advantage of being able to absolutely defend himself with it, as well as deal out some immense damage.
He merely grinned in Shizuka’s direction as she told him—rather firmly –that his sword would not break. He was quite used to this sort of behavior from a powerful woman, simply from dealing with Odval. His mother was quite like this woman, in his opinion, although they’d both probably hold themselves in higher esteem. ”I see.” he muttered, continuing to look rather amused. As much as he was hurting right now, the gift of the sword had made him absolutely ecstatic. He’d always longed for one of the metal weapons, and now his wish was fulfilled. Odval would no doubt object from the partial break in tradition, but if he learned to use it even his mother couldn’t get on his case!
He glanced up to her, nodding reasonably as the woman commented on his poor technique. ”Yes, but even with hacking I think I could at least hold my own.” he pointed out, still swinging here and there. ”You can’t expect me to be perfect on the first try!” he attempted to admonish her, well aware that his comments probably wouldn’t be taken too well. He was just too used to dealing with behavior such as this, and letting it go its course. His mother had treated him with enough similar feeling for him to know that it was more than a little natural for these types.
”What’s your name, anyway?”
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Posted: Wed Jun 16, 2010 2:16 pm
It was almost sweet – Bataar waving the sword around, a huge grin plastered over his face, and his mind full of the deluded idea that he was actually skilled with the sword. No, that wasn’t fair, he was skilled, or he had skill anyways. How much and what it meant though, was in the eye of the beholder. Meaning her. He looked, she thought like a little kid. A stupid little child who had just been giving a toy sword, yes, that was exactly what Bataar happened to mirror. Such children were nothing short of stupid. Their parents, foolish, foolish parents, filled their small minds with silly thing – with compliments and praise. They whispered in the child’s little ear, telling him all sorts of things. They’d tell him he’d be the best general ever, or that he’d be the proud captain of a league of fighters, that’d he’d be the strongest in his class, or whatever other crap their stupid minds could think of. How silly it was, thinking that a child who is half of you and half of your love can be a thousand times better than both of you ever were. Shizuka had watched these children grow, and every single boy who had been promised a crown, a queen, and a world had soon lost all of it to her. Mentally, she cracked her knuckles with pride – the world had so much to learn.
And today, the world would start with Bataar. Maybe if she taught him to do something – anything – right , he’d pass it on to another Noble, and they’d get somewhere. Yes, that was what she had to do.
“You’re right, Salad, I can’t expect you to be perfect on the first try,” she slid over to the grinning Mongul, her fingers circling over the hilt of his blade. ”So this is the part where you learn. Give me that.” She pulled the sword out of his grasp, sliding it out careful, as not to hurt him. There was no need for the boy to be in any more pain – he was doing enough to stomach it as it was already.
”Watch. Learn. Better yourself.”
She turned her body as her hand clenched the blade, making herself narrower to any oncoming opponent – imaginary or not. The blade glimmered in her hand, reflecting the sunlight. She smirked at her reflection, soaking in the calm, the quiet, the nothingness, and then she moved. It all seemed to be one movement – a flood hurling itself through rapids – fast, deadly, and overwhelming. Her feet flew forward, crossing and sliding through the grass, the sword dancing through the air, slicing it, and, had it been an enemy, killing it. It blocked, it slid, it whipped and rocketed across the field, all the while Shizuka’s face was a blank field, not even a hint of expression escaped. She pivoted, twirling sharply – not always the most practical of moves, but she was attempting to show off while staying in what she believed was the range of Bataar’s ability – before kicking the imaginary enemy before her and, as her leg recoiled, bringing the sword down with her palm. The result, it seemed, would’ve been one both swift and painful.
”Now you try.”
If he was smart, he would’ve paid attention to the technique.
If.
It should be noted, perhaps, that Shizuka deliberately ignored the youth’s question. One’s superior does not answer to the inferior, nor is she expected to reveal more personal information before the other. At least, if you asked Shizuka, that was how it worked.
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Legend of Lunaria Captain
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Posted: Wed Jun 16, 2010 3:48 pm
He understood that his skill at the moment was less than impressive, and he was willing to deal with that fact, to take it in stride. The first try never brought perfect results, but Bataar felt more in his element than he had for a long time with a weapon other than his own fists. He showed immense promise in his movements, even if he was a little on the clumsy side. At least he knew, and understood his exact level of potential. He could be great, if only he concentrated all of his power and his time It was going to take a lot of effort to be a respectable swordsman, but he clearly had that position within his power. At the academy, they had practiced some general swordsmanship, and he was certain that he had the basics.
Once again, Bat quite disliked being referred to as a salad(or any kind of vegetable, at that) and his face momentarily contorted as he tried to deal with the disgusting title. He was rather unwilling to give his sword to Shizuka, but she ended up simply taking it. By now he’d completely forgotten his question about her name, and was concentrated simply on learning and observing, as wounded as he was. He crossed his arms delicately across his chest, very conscious of the stitched-up gash down the middle, and careful of his broken ribs as he watched the woman. Her movements were impressive, and he tried to drink them in with his eyes, wanting to get the technique down. He had the feeling that she wouldn’t allow him to get away with failing once he knew just how to go about swinging his sword this way and that.
He took the sword, handling it carefully as he recalled Shizuka’s movements to his memory. Upon the first move he made, it had become clear that there was no way he’d actually be able to mimic the powerful woman before him. It wasn’t because he was weak, and not because he couldn’t remember everything she’d done, but it was because he felt a sudden sharp pain in his chest as he tried to move as swiftly as she had. He fell to his knees, clutching his chest desperately, hoping that none of his stitches had broken. The pain was nauseating, and altogether overpowering as he tried to deal with it. Shizuka had pushed Bataar a little too far, and now it was definitely showing.
”I can do it!” he muttered, sounding entirely frustrated that he’d all but fallen over just moments before. He was dedicated now, however, and he made an effort to stand, his legs trembling beneath him as he quivered with an agonizing pain. Attempting to go any further had been a terrible decision, however, and before the Mongol knew it black spots were clouding and invading his vision. He made as much of an effort as he could to keep a grip on consciousness, but he was absolutely failing. Eventually, he fell to the ground completely, his eyes slamming shut as he fell back into unconsciousness, his sword clattering to the ground beside him.
This was the end for now, but Bataar would remember this for as long as he lived. His sword would be integral to his person, and he would use it to defend himself and to hurt his enemies. The future was ripe with possibility, despite the scars he would most certainly come to have. The pain would fade, but the memories would remain, dream-like and confusing. He would recall Shizuka as a sort of spirit, hardly knowing she was quite corporeal indeed, and he would find the legionnaire that had wounded him again someday.
Someday he would win the losing battle.
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Posted: Wed Jun 16, 2010 4:28 pm
She had been tentatively impressed with Bataar. Impressed only by the fact that he had been smart enough to pay attention. Playground child he might’ve been, but he was one who wanted to grow – the seed and sprouted roots, and now the tree was beginning to grow. She had been impressed by the determination she could find in his eyes and locked jaw. Yes, Shizuka had been impressed. One could argue this was only because she had set such low standards, but there was no need to dampen the feeling – especially since it was a fleeting one.
She watched Bataar crumble. He was a mountainside, and one small rock – perhaps a stitch – had fallen out of place. Now, she thought as she watched him gasp and sink, the youth had become a landslide – wild and untamed. Uncontrollably every rock that held Bataar together was sliding, crashing, rumbling down and into an abyss far from the realm of conscious action and thought. She could’ve, perhaps, rushed over to him, supporting him on the way down – but it was not her body, not her place. He could, perhaps, get up – be a man, a warrior, and stand on his feet. The chances of that though, in the woman’s mind, were slim. She didn’t expect this man – it dawned on her she still didn’t know his name (not that it was really a name worth knowing – yet) – to stand once more, though she had ordered him to multiple times this day. She expected him to finally give into the desires that rippled throughout his body. It wanted to rest, it wanted to sleep, and maybe – after meeting her – it wanted to die.
However, the Mongol’s will surprised her. It failed to impress her, mind you, but it was almost endearing, the way he fumbled into a standing position. Shizuka only nodded as her “pupil” stood once again, though he was full of tremours, and shaking wildly, he was standing. It was quite the feat, one that was commendable, but like the moment before it, swift and fleeting. It was almost sad, had Bataar not be so badly beaten up, he might’ve learnt something more today. Though, had he not been found so pathetic and limp, Shizuka probably wouldn’t have bothered with him – it was all too hard to say. She sat down as Bataar fell, for his last time today, and smoothed out the wrinkles in her clothing as the sword slammed against the ground. She let the moment hang – suspended in a web of cautious silence – before stepping towards the certainly unconscious Bataar.
”Get up.”
She said it once more, half mocking and perhaps even half joking. She tapped his knee ever so slightly – the motion mirroring a kick, but the force ceased to be there – and watched the veins that weaved across the Mongol’s body pump blood into him. Amazing what the body did, even why the boy stopped thinking. And then the woman laughed. Get up. As if he could! As if he would! He was as good as dead to her now; there was nothing more to be done – with him, that is. There was so much more in store for Lunaria, so much that she could not be bothered to spend any more time on Bataar. He was a fortune man to have received so much of her day. Hopefully, he would realize that.
Shadows converged towards her – two forms flowed over the landscape to rest at her side. With but a subtle hand motion, they understood their lady’s orders, quickly handing her a scrap of parchment and a proper brush to write with. Content, Shizuka let her fingers guide the brush – like a sword – over the paper, inscribing only a few, sparing words.
Keep working on it, Salad.
She slipped it into Bataar’s belt, before turning and, as quickly as she had appeared in the alleyway, evaporating before her attendants.
”One of you - stay near him. Make sure he doesn’t get killed.”
After all, it would be such a shame if someone with not only that much promise, but also her sword, died so soon. He had to become something great. Had to. Otherwise Shizuka had just wasted her time, and she never – never – did that.
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Legend of Lunaria Captain
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