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 Posted: Tue Jun 10, 2025 8:47 pm
The problem with having a secret identity was that he couldn't just slip into it at will, whenever something occurred to him that he'd like to be powered to do. It also meant he couldn't just wander into the local YMCA and sign up for a self-defense class as Blarney, Page of Earth, and since it was as Blarney he would need the self-defense, he didn't really see much point in going as Mason. Sure, he'd still learn the basics, but--gravity was different when he was Blarney, or he was stronger or faster, or some combination thereof, and he was not so convinced of his dexterity that he was confident anything he learned would translate over from Mason to Blarney on muscle memory alone.
Besides, signing up for a class with a professional cost money, and Youtube was free. He'd figured out 'subspace', as Halia had called it (even though Google said 'subspace' was something completely different), and determined it was big enough to house his phone, a pair of headphones (wired - he'd lost too many wireless headphones), a first aid kit (the bandaids had little baby animals on them--Madeline had insisted on him bringing it, but he insisted that it would at least match his vibe), some rope, a small handheld notebook and a purple glittery pen (both technically belonging to his sister, but that was neither here nor there). What did not fit into subspace, as he found out, was the high-grade punching bag set-up he'd ordered from Amazon.
So that was why Mason had gotten the wagon they used to carry groceries into the house, loaded it up box and all, and lugged the stupid thing all the way to the park, to the little glade he called his own. He'd set it up, found a suitably strong tree-branch to tie it to, then slipped into the trees to transform, just in case anyone was attracted by the sound of a young teenage boy fighting with a manual labor task.
His transformation complete - he kept his eyes open this time and watched his outfit simply appear, felt the warm, familiar-scented breeze that seemed to carry it rustle his hair and deposit the flowercrown on his head. He wasn't sure he'd ever get tired of seeing that; it was still straight up magic, and that made it the coolest thing ever.
What was not the coolest thing ever? Squaring off against this punching bag. But he had to - since the stick was not a suitable weapon, he had to have something better to fight with, and that meant he had to rely on himself. He knew how to do cheerleading kicks, but those would only get someone so far; as such, he put one headphone in, turned on the instructional Youtube video he'd found before he left the house, and tried to imagine himself punching a shadowmonster directly in the face, over and over and over again--or at least as over and over and over again as he could, holding the phone in one hand and having to correct his stance every three seconds. If he was learning how to box, with his fists, why did it matter so much where his feet were?
Blarney had no idea, but the internet was the expert, so he tried to follow along as best he could.
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Posted: Wed Jun 11, 2025 7:14 pm
The sound of steady thuds and the occasional frustrated sigh caught Howick’s ear as she wandered through the quieter edge of the park. Curiosity tugged her forward—she wasn’t expecting to find anyone else powered up this late, let alone someone battling a punching bag in what looked like a very improvised training ground.
She stepped out from the trees just far enough to be seen, one brow raised and a smile tugging at her lips.
"Okay, I have to ask—did that punching bag do something personal, or are you just giving it everything you’ve got for dramatic flair?"
Her voice was light, teasing but clearly kind. She lifted a hand in greeting, her silver hourglass pendant catching the soft moonlight.
“I’m Howick. Page of the Moon. Sorry for just… walking in on your workout, but I couldn’t help noticing the enthusiasm.â€
She let her gaze drift to the setup—the phone, the headphones, the glittery pen on the grass—and then back to him, amused but not mocking.
“You’re really putting in the work. Not everyone does that on their own.â€
A pause, then she tilted her head slightly.
“If you’re up for it, maybe we could train together? I’ve been wanting to spar with someone who actually knows what determination looks like.â€
A small, friendly grin curved her lips.
“Don’t worry—I promise not to knock you over unless you really deserve it.â€
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Posted: Thu Jun 12, 2025 7:52 am
Blarney was distracted - he felt something pulling on his attention, a quiet little poke or prod, not entirely dissimilar from the way he'd felt as he tracked down what turned out to be Miss Garde, but this one was much - softer. Smaller. Or something. It didn't feel bad or dangerous though, so he tried to ignore it, until it announced itself, and Blarney turned to look in the direction the voice had come from.
Oh. Another Page, like him, but--the aesthetic was very different, which he supposed came from the 'of the Moon' bit, rather than his own 'of the Earth' bit. So that was one question answered - Earth wasn't the only kind of Knight you could be. He wondered if all the planets had Knights, but pushed that thought from his head - if he started thinking about all the things he didn't know, he was going to have to start punching again.
"Blarney," Blarney said, "of Earth." He gave her a sheepish smile, looking from her to the punching bag. "And this guy knows what he did. He's a wrong'un, trust me on that. He deserves everything I've given him." Blarney chuckled and shook his head, taking his headphone out of his ear and pausing the video on his phone. He was going to have to find someplace better to train and elsewise hang out - this was why Batman had the Batcave, he was realizing. Was Blarney his Batcave?
But then she offered to train with him, and a big smile broke out across his face, bright as the sun in the dead of August. "I'd love that. Not--not the knocking over part, but honestly, if you do, I'm sure I do deserve it, or will at some point in the future." Blarney laughed and tossed his phone aside to join the notebook and pen.
"Fair warning, I...have never done this before, like, with a person. I started this," he gestured at the punching bag, "because I just--I feel like when all you're equipped with is a stick, you gotta be able to bring something to the whole getting rid of nightmare beasts that want to eat people table, y'know?" Blarney sighed, then tilted his head at her, looking her up and down once more. She did not appear to have a stick, or anything stick-like about her, which made him wonder what her weapon was like. "How long have you been doing this? Got any tips-n-tricks for a newbie?"
She certainly carried herself with more confidence than Blarney did, but she wasn't nearly as fancy-looking as Miss Garde was, which left him faintly confused as to the level of respect he should be showing. What was the hierarchy here? Halia had said that Knights were 'in service of a Senshi', but--how were Knights supposed to act around other Knights? What about Knights from other worlds? Every question spawned ten more, and he had to force them all out of his head to focus on the girl in front of him.
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Posted: Mon Jun 16, 2025 7:49 pm
Howick let out a soft laugh, clearly amused. “Well, remind me never to get on that punching bag’s bad side. Sounds like it’s got a record.†She stepped into the glade a little more, boots sinking softly into the grass. The moonlight caught in the curves of her hourglass pendant, still and silver against her chest. Her curls bounced as she tilted her head, taking in the cheerful chaos that surrounded Blarney—glitter pens, bandaids, one lonely headphone. It was kind of charming, actually. “You’ve got heart,†she said warmly, hands resting lightly on her hips. “And honestly? That goes a lot farther than you’d think. Plenty of people power up and just freeze when things get messy. The fact that you’re out here swinging at glittery danger says a lot.†She flashed him a quick grin. “And don’t worry. I’ve only ever knocked one person over before, and he definitely deserved it. You’re safe—for now.†When he asked about her experience, her expression shifted—just a flicker. Not exactly sad, but a bit more serious under the surface. “I’ve been at this for a little while,†she said, tone still light but quieter. “Not long enough to know everything. Long enough to know we’re all figuring it out as we go.†Then she gave a wink and stepped back, raising her hands slightly. “Alright, Blarney of Earth. Rule number one: no trying to impress me. That’s how you roll your ankle. Rule number two: loosen your shoulders. You’re not fighting the bag anymore—you’re sparring a very charming, very capable Moon Knight, and I’d hate for you to cramp up while you’re losing.†She flashed him a grin again, this time with a bit more challenge in it, and eased into a relaxed stance across from him. “You ready?â€
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Posted: Tue Jun 17, 2025 8:42 am
Blarney laughed - glittery danger. He liked the sound of that. He felt himself blush lightly - you've got heart. The compliment warmed him through and through; he couldn't imagine getting a gift like this and then...what, not using it? Sure, he could imagine not knowing how to use it - he was very much in that boat himself at that exact moment, no imagination required - but he at least was desperate to learn.
He watched an emotion flicker over her face; maybe asking how long people had been doing this was kind of a rude thing to ask - his mind went back to Miss Garde. Had Howick been, what was the word she'd used, conscripted too? Or was she more like Blarney himself, who essentially walked into this with as open of eyes as could be hoped for?
"Well, telling me not to impress you does just make me want to impress you more," Blarney said, rolling his shoulders obediently as he stepped toward her, mirroring her stance. He took a breath, in and out, to ground himself, then grinned right back at her as he got in position.
"Maybe I'll have some beginner's luck going for me here. Can't get too cocky, right? Isn't that how big bads lose to little guys all the time?" He didn't swing for her; he knew enough to let her come to him, at least. If he could avoid it, he never wanted to be the one who started a fight - he just wanted to be able to end it, if he had to.
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Posted: Wed Jun 18, 2025 6:04 pm
Howick’s grin widened at his reply, her shoulders loosening into something easy and amused. “Oh, so you are trouble,†she said with a small laugh, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. “I knew it. You’ve got that chaotic sparkle behind the eyes.†She shifted her weight, one foot gliding softly over the grass as she adjusted her stance—not stiff like a textbook fighter, but fluid, ready. Her tone stayed warm, teasing—but it was clear she was watching him. Not just his posture, but the way he held himself. The weight in his stance. The intention. “You’re not wrong though,†she said. “Cockiness is the classic downfall. That and monologuing. Try to avoid both if you can help it.†Then, she moved. Not with speed meant to overpower or embarrass, but with the ease of someone who’d done this just enough to test the waters. A step in, a light jab toward his shoulder—not enough to hurt, more of a hello, a tap to draw his reaction. “You’re holding back,†she noted lightly, retreating just a step. “That’s fine, for now. But don’t be afraid to actually try.†She shifted again, playful glint returning to her eyes. “Let’s see what Earth’s got. Impress me.â€
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Posted: Wed Jun 18, 2025 8:46 pm
Blarney only grinned, impish, listening, encoding this along with the Gospel According to Joyeuse Garde. Don't get cocky, don't monologue. He knew those already, but it was good to be reminded--
Boop. That was what it felt like, even as Blarney tried to dodge out of the way, she somehow predicted where his shoulder would end up and aimed there, instead.
Smart. She was smart, this girl--woman? At what age did it change?
Blarney shook his head to himself, focused up. He watched the way she moved, watched her watching him - he darted close and instead of aiming a punch, he embraced his cheerleading roots and aimed a kick at her side, foot finding light contact. More elbow, blocked, than kidney, which is what he should've been aiming for if this was a real fight. Just enough to boop her right back, let her know that he was new, but not that new.
"There's a joke somewhere in there about the earth and the moon," Blarney said. "Let me know when you find it." Blarney hopped away from her, out of her arm's reach, unless she chased after him - which was exactly what he wanted, because he had an idea, but he'd need to use her own momentum against her.
At least, he was fairly certain that was the only way to really pull it off, at least with someone who knew more about this than he did - that's what it looked like in all the movies, anyway. Surely they would never mislead him, right?
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Posted: Sat Jun 21, 2025 9:59 pm
The moment his foot made contact, Howick blinked—not in pain, but surprise, and maybe just a little impressed. “Okay,” she said, backing up with a laugh, “I did not see that coming.” She rolled her shoulder, still loose, still smiling. “Guess I shouldn’t have underestimated someone with high kicks in their arsenal. That was a solid boop.” She stayed where she was for a heartbeat, thoughtful, then started to pace slightly, circling. Her stance was still relaxed—but her eyes were sharp now, reading him differently. Not in a bad way. Just… with a touch more seriousness beneath the play. “You’ve got instincts,” she said as she moved. “You’re watching. Thinking. You don’t just flail.” Then her brow arched slightly at his challenge. “Earth and the Moon, huh? Sounds like the start of a very dramatic poem.” She didn’t chase him—not yet. She knew bait when she saw it. Instead, she stepped in just enough to test the space between them. A fake-out jab with her left hand, just to watch how he shifted his weight. Then she stepped off to the side, feinting a follow-through—seeing if he’d commit to the counter she knew he was setting up. “I will find that joke,” she added, cheerful and bright. “But I’m more interested in what trick you’ve got waiting for me first.”
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Posted: Thu Jul 03, 2025 7:44 pm
Blarney grinned, pleased at the compliments, but doing his best not to let them go to his head--that would be just the thing, getting bopped in the nose because his ego was inflated. "What, a trick like this?" Blarney asked, shifting away from the feint to catch her by the wrist. He closed the distance between them, dancing close and behind her, twisting her arm up behind her, locking it into place. "Gotcha," he said, an impish whisper in her ear. He released her quickly and darted out of her space once more. "I figure I'm not gonna be able to get a swing on everybody I fight, so I've been practicing my disarming and holding in place thing," he explained. "Someone with arms is a much better target for that than Mr. Bag over there. Very few limbs to grab onto."
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Posted: Fri Jul 04, 2025 8:19 am
Howick let out a surprised breath when he slipped behind her, wrist caught, arm pinned—not tight, but enough to prove his point. “Okay,” she admitted, laughing softly as he whispered near her ear, “that was good.” She let him dart away without protest, straightening her stance, flexing her wrist once as she turned to face him again. Her curls fell forward slightly, but her grin was wide, eyes bright with the thrill of it. “Mr. Bag definitely can’t teach you that,” she agreed, rolling her shoulders as she circled again. “And, for the record? I approve of the initiative.” She paused, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “But now that I know what kind of sneaky Earth tactics you’ve got…” In a flash, she lunged—not reckless, but fast enough to keep him on his toes. This time she aimed lower, a sweeping leg to knock him off balance rather than going straight for a hit. “Gotta make sure you’re ready for someone who’s got tricks and footwork.”
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Posted: Fri Jul 04, 2025 12:24 pm
This? This was fun. It felt good, got his heart pumping in a way that felt like progress--that felt like he was doing something, rather than just flailing at the wind or trying to catch up in a race that had started long before he'd heard the starting gun.
It was the finger-tap that distracted him--lulled him into a false sense of security, or something, because the next thing he knew, his noodle legs, usually so reliable for flips and bottom-of-the-pyramid antics, went wiggly on him as she caught him behind his leg, and down he went, flat on his little bum, looking up at her.
"...Okay, you win," Blarney said, beaming up at her. "You're awesome, did you know that? Can we be, like, Page friends? Go on, whatsitcalled, patrol together sometimes?"
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Posted: Fri Jul 04, 2025 1:28 pm
Howick took a step back, laughing as Blarney hit the ground with all the drama of a toppled stagehand. She didn’t gloat—there wasn’t a mean bone in her stance—but her grin stretched wide, eyes sparkling with good-natured victory. “Technically,” she said, offering him a hand to help him up, “I think the official term is ‘Knight allies’.” A beat, her head tilting slightly, curls bouncing. “But ‘Page friends’ has a better ring to it, honestly.” She pulled him to his feet with ease, giving his wrist a light shake like they’d just sealed a deal. “I’d like that. Patrol buddies. Maybe training partners, too—though I might make you spar with Mr. Bag sometimes so he doesn’t feel abandoned.” She smirked teasingly, giving a small nod toward the glittery punching bag. Then, with a more genuine, grounded note to her voice, she added, “You’ve got potential, Blarney. Most people wouldn’t be out here trying to figure it all out alone.” A playful shrug. “Good thing you’re not alone anymore, yeah?” Another teasing grin curved her lips, but there was real warmth beneath it. “See you around, Blarney of Earth.”
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