Welcome to Gaia! ::

Noah had been cooped up indoors all week. While this wasn't too distressing a situation -- he had books and the lab's computers had a few games and the intranet and he could practice carving runes -- he found, when the sun came out again, that he had missed it more than he thought he had. He'd left his coat indoors and worn his rattiest jeans and t-shirt, because the training grounds were a gigantic mash of mud after the storm, but he was out on the fields, chopping at a dummy with Lazarus and wearing an expression of deep concentration.

He was trying to get a better feeling of how he and Lazarus worked. The weapon had been a zombie dog, and as such, he thought like a dog. A sentient monster dog, yes, but still: dog. They both thought of the connection between their minds as something like a leash, a relatively thin connection, but one that let both of them know where the other was at all times, whether there was tension or relaxation, an almost physical thrum of information and feeling transmitted back and forth. Separate, but connected, always connected. If he thought about it, Noah had the distinct and slightly unnerving sensation that Laz "heeled" nicely mostly because he chose to, allowing Noah control because that was how it should work, a working dog attending to his handler's commands.

The feeling of having a presence just behind him and to the left, just out of his peripheral vision, had made him nervous at first. He was used to it now. It was actually a little comforting, knowing that Laz was there, protective, possessive.

His concentration was turned inward, a little frown furrowed between his eyebrows, and he didn't even notice Maebe's arrival.

Noah jumped and turned quickly, startled out of his focus by the voice that was presumably addressed to him. He glanced around quickly, just to make sure. Nobody else in sight nearby, though further off across the field there were two hunters intently discussing something, weapons out though they didn't seem to be sparring yet. But they were too far away for her to be talking to them, and anyway, she'd said stranger, singular rather than plural.

Fighting another person was better than whacking at an inanimate object, he remembered being told. "Um - sparring?" he answered, just to be sure. "Okay, I need practice. Um, hi," he added belatedly, and managed to keep himself from taking too long a look at her. She was pretty, but he had come to realize that there were very few people on the island who weren't good-looking, and he was slowly learning not to let it distract him. Much, anyway.

She was wearing a skirt rather than pants, and he did give it a curious glance. He'd wondered -- "Is it harder to fight in a skirt? Like, worrying about if it's, um, going to ..." He trailed off, belatedly registering that this was maybe not the best thing to say. "I'm sorry, that kind of sounded creepy," he apologized.

Noah's eyes went very wide as Maebe lifted her skirt. He looked -- he couldn't help it -- but then he yanked his eyes away, turning brilliant red. "Wha, I, um," he sputtered, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on a point in space somewhere over her shoulder, utterly flustered.

SHE'S TRYING TO DISTRACT YOU. Lazarus didn't sound at all happy.

"It's working!" Noah had forgotten, for the moment, that talking to your weapon was an indoor voice kind of thing.



HP: 40/40
[Ceding initiative due to distraction~]

The sudden sharp pain of the trident's points sent Noah stumbling backwards, snapping him back to his focus. She had indeed distracted him very effectively, and he was paying for that. His jaw set with a sudden small surge of anger at himself. He couldn't afford to get distracted like that, it was stupid, and he really, really didn't know how not to.

BITE HER, Laz urged.

Noah recovered his balance and stepped swiftly in, dodging sideways and inside Thaw's reach. He brought Laz around in a hard arc, and felt the weapon's satisfaction mirror his own as the cleaver landed with a thunk that he could feel nearly all the way up his arm.

HP: 32/40
Dmg: 7
Charge: 1/3

Her nails hurt -- holy crap, had she sharpened them or something, because they were like knives -- but what really unnerved Noah was the sound she made. He'd just hit her with a cleaver, why did she sound like that?

He shoved her away, Laz's blade sliding along her arm as he did so, and took several steps back, giving her a slightly-freaked-out-stare.

HP: 30/40
Dmg: 3
Charge: 2/3

Did it matter why? Maybe she was just -- freaky like that. Noah narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He grabbed onto the trident right below its head as it sank into his stomach and kept it there, not allowing her to pull her weapon free and skip back. It hurt. It hurt a lot, but his longer reach let him brace his feet and lean in to bring Laz around sharply into her side.

Only when he'd yanked Laz free again did he let go and pull back. He could hear Laz panting and pacing in his mind, burbling, claws clicking as the weapon tugged at him, filled to the brim with Fear and still hungry, always, always hungry. "Okay," Noah said, and didn't recognize the dangerous growl his voice had dropped into. "I'll focus."

HP: 24/40
Dmg: 6
Charge: 3/3

Noah smiled, and there were teeth in it -- and then a memory intruded, sudden and unwelcome, of the points of sharp, sharp teeth resting just against the skin of his fingertips, and his awareness of his smile was suddenly jarring and uncomfortable. The moment slipped away, but it took some of his confidence with it.

The jab of the trident made him stumble, and he brought Laz down onto her hand where it gripped the weapon's shaft, scowling. This spar wasn't playful, wasn't a lesson; it was something else, some kind of vicious undercurrent bubbling just under the surface, and Noah didn't quite understand what this girl had against him.

HP: 18/40
Dmg: 4
Charge: 3/3