[SE] [Training] following the patterns

Deimos

The barracks were their own form of unique shelter for Deimos – a home within a home. A stronghold and shelter of shared camaraderie, weapons, defenses, training, and any other mechanisms of overt and covert machinations, it had become a sanctity amidst Halovian outreaches.

So while the soldiers dueled and sparred one another, he crouched at the initial opening of the training grounds sanction, listening, but tending to his own means and measures. Repairs upon the trebuchets weren’t uncommon; not given the cold and tendency for the gears to stick, and this one was under much of the same renewal. Incantations flowed and flickered, melting the built-up ice along the armament, before dusting away the particles of snow and inspecting further.

you're all bronze and bite
all venom and fistfight

Guileless Son, I'll shape your belief
And you'll always know that your father's a thief

Walking to the opening, seafoam gaze wide as she had looked past it. Hearing the clashing and clanking of those hard at work. The ginger haired woman crinkled a piece of paper into her hands, it was worn just by how much she had been crinkling it. She had been given the directions on how to get here, for lack of memory. 

The petite woman seemed to look up towards one of the soldier's walking out. His face flushed from the high intensity training he had just completed. Looking down at Cat, as she had asked something briefly. He threw a finger back over his shoulder where Deimos had been hunched over, doing maintenance. 

"Oi, Deimos!" The young man shouted back. 

"Ya' gotta visit'r." His language was not completely well rounded, possibly for the lack of break he had caught before running into Cat. 

Nodding her thanks to the man, she had walked towards him. Her bubbly appearance not fading yet, but truth was... She needed training. She needed something, and hope to latch onto, that she could get stronger, or at least find something that she excelled at. Her only hope? Was to have someone train her who had seen this sort of thing. 

"I.. Don't mean to interrupt." She started off, with a light wave of her hand.

Catalina

And you won't understand the cause of your grief
But you'll always follow the voices beneath

Deimos

Tinkering with one of the gears, and testing to see if the lever immediately began to pull instead of stutter and stop, the yell drifted over his senses. Flicking his head back up and nodding to the young soldier, his brow arched and gaze straightened upon a dousing of red hair – someone recognized from previous exercises across the Tundra.

Slightly amused, he straightened from his crouch and advanced, pausing to grab a cloth nearby and wipe his hands of any residue. “It was Catalina, correct?” The Sword made it a point to match multitudes of names and faces to memory, even those who had just been a brief figment on the horizon. Extending out his hand to shake and formally introduce, his head tilted, every essence of General and Warden and predacious edges all rolled into one. “Do not worry about it. I am interrupted frequently.” The rumble was given on a small smile, the truth a poignant thing within these confines. “Did you need something?”

you're all bronze and bite
all venom and fistfight

Guileless Son, I'll shape your belief
And you'll always know that your father's a thief

Catalina’s eyes met his as he extended his hand, and with a small, nervous smile, she accepted the handshake, her grip firm but gentle. She was careful to make a good impression, her touch steady despite the flutter of anxiety she felt.

“Yes, Catalina, but.. Call me Cat” she said softly, releasing his hand after the shake. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your work. I know it must be important.”  

She glanced at the gears and machinery with a touch of admiration before turning her attention back to him. “I came here to ask for some guidance,” she continued, her voice earnest and respectful. “I’ve been training and working hard, but I feel like I need more direction on finding... something I can excel at. I’ve seen your skill and expertise, and I thought that maybe… if you have the time, you could help me. I know the dangers of the world, and I'd rather not have any team I'm with have to defend me every step of the way... But more or less, become a working gear within the mechanism... If that makes sense?”  

Catalina’s gaze was steady but carried a note of humility. “I don’t want to intrude or take up too much of your time,” she added quickly. “I just thought it might be valuable to learn from someone with your experience. If you’re too busy, I completely understand.”

She waited, her posture open and her expression hopeful, ready to accept whatever response he might have.

Catalina

And you won't understand the cause of your grief
But you'll always follow the voices beneath

bones, bones, bones, bones, bones, bones, bones, bones, bones, bones, bones, bones, bones, bones.

---

You've encountered the OG random event! This allows you to skip one levelling requirement with the character in this thread. (Unfortunately does not count for characters over level 10, how sad.)

Deimos

He waited, stoic and still save for the curious tilting of his head as he listened. Such occurrences weren’t rare – and he did offer training to anyone who craved it – but it was nice to hear she was willing to seek direction, guidance, and was aware of the dangers surrounding Caido, instead of meandering her way through it. He’d met too many who thought themselves superior to the trials and tribulations of this earth, or simply didn’t yearn to find maneuvers that would benefit themselves in the long run. “Understood,” he finally granted, with another slight smile. “I do not mind. It is what I am here for.” Pausing, on an air of amusement, for he’d already begun winding his way away from the trebuchet, with an earnest pat to the weapon as he walked by. “Plus it saves me from returning to paperwork.” Now that he avoided.

Long strides carried him over to the armory wall, where several soldiers lingered at as well, sizing up potentials before snagging their preferred armaments and nodding their greetings before hastening off. He ceased before it, giving her an opportunity to survey the multitudes of options and choices, including a range of blades, axes, staffs, knives, bows and accompanying quivers, armor of all shapes and sizes, and some other odds and ends he’d made recently. “What have you tried before?”

you're all bronze and bite
all venom and fistfight

Guileless Son, I'll shape your belief
And you'll always know that your father's a thief

Catalina trailed slightly behind, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement as she followed him to the armory. His words were reassuring, and the small smile he gave eased some of the tension she felt in her chest. The mention of avoiding paperwork made her smile, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. At least she wouldn’t be alone in seeking some sort of escape from the mundane.

As they reached the armory wall, Cat took a moment to absorb the sheer number of weapons displayed before her. Her eyes roamed over the array of blades, axes, staffs, and more, each one seeming to call for a different kind of skill and strength. Her hand hovered over the hilt of a sword for a brief moment before she pulled it back, her fingers tapping her chin thoughtfully.

“Well… I’ve tried my hand at swords before,” she admitted, her voice a bit quieter, as if worried it might not be the right answer. “But I… I never really got very far with them. Too heavy, I think.” She paused, glancing up at him to gauge his reaction. “I’ve also tried a bow a few times. That felt better, more natural, but I’m not… great at it.”

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, biting her lower lip for a moment before continuing. “I guess… I want to find something that feels right. Something I can… actually get good at.” She looked back at the wall of weapons, a hint of determination in her expression now. “I’m willing to try anything.”

Catalina

And you won't understand the cause of your grief
But you'll always follow the voices beneath

Deimos

A beacon of patience and composure, he merely survived as she stared and ran over the choices, the sentiments of blades coming to a distinct conclusion. “There are several lighter ones,” he pointed towards the rapier style, not nearly as heavy and cumbersome as some that required both hands to wield. But he wouldn’t be pushing – if they weren’t going to be useful to her, much like the bows and arrows, then there’d be no point in striving to utilize and practice. Though he did add with another rumble, “No one is excellent at any weapon initially.” So if she had that expectation of instant compatibility and expertise, she’d have to disregard it entirely in these training grounds.

Anyone could gain traction and ability the more they drilled and exercised, but he’d let the machinations slide. For now.

Arching his brow at the final statement, he glanced over the wares thereafter. Jutting his jawline towards the assortment of lengthy, wooden armaments nearby, the Sword opted for a suggestion. Whether or not she’d take it was up to her. “What about a staff?”

you're all bronze and bite
all venom and fistfight

Guileless Son, I'll shape your belief
And you'll always know that your father's a thief

Catalina listened intently as he pointed out the lighter blades, nodding along, but she couldn't hide the slight frown of uncertainty that crossed her face.  

When he added that no one is excellent with any weapon at first, Catalina's expression softened, and she nodded, feeling a bit reassured. "You’re right," she agreed. “I guess I was worried about looking silly or... you know, not getting it right away.”   She laughed again, this time with more confidence. “But that’s why I’m here, right? To learn?”

Then, when he suggested the staff, her face lit up with genuine enthusiasm. “Oh! A staff sounds perfect!” she exclaimed, her tone light and bubbly. “I think it actually would be fun to learn how to use right!"

Catalina practically skipped over to the assortment of wooden staves, her fingers trailing over the smooth, polished wood. “And, hey, if I mess up, at least I won’t be cutting off my own toes, right?” she added with a playful grin, glancing back at Deimos .

Catalina

And you won't understand the cause of your grief
But you'll always follow the voices beneath

Deimos

All the worries and concerns about looking silly as one learned made him snort. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard such sentiments, nor would it be the last, but it was a frustrating aspect that often came from beginning pupils – and why some never returned. Such an expectation shouldn’t have even been permitted; not when there were so many other notions, semblances, and roles to achieve. He’d had that drilled into his head from a young age, from both his parents, and any high ranking officer, as they went through their modes and methods, skirmishing for an eventual battlefield. Still, his rumble was softer. “Perfection is not achievable. Nor should anyone expect anything close to prowess on initial practices. That is what training is for.” With a smile, he ventured on, watching as she snagged at a staff.

Walking towards a target not in use, he arched his brow at the sentiment. “True. Though that is why we start with wooden weapons for everyone.” So no one lost a limb in early ventures. “Normally I would teach you the right stance first, but we should likely warm up before then.” Most came with stars in their eyes and dreams in their mind, and left with stiffened, aching muscles after the first few minutes.

With that said, he began doing the same, stretching out his limbs, rotating his shoulders, and going through a variety of motions and maneuvers with his legs to ensure nothing would be pulled or mauled in the proceedings.

you're all bronze and bite
all venom and fistfight

Guileless Son, I'll shape your belief
And you'll always know that your father's a thief

Catalina absorbed Deimos' words, her expression softening as a meek smile tugged at her lips. She nodded slightly, acknowledging the wisdom in his statement. "You're right," she admitted, her voice carrying a trace of self-reflection. 

"I guess the perfectionist in me sets these ridiculously high expectations... but I think that's pretty common." There was a hint of vulnerability in her tone as she tightened her grip around the staff, the wooden weapon feeling foreign but solid in her hands. His mention of wooden swords prompted a stifled laugh from her, the thought of training with real blades and not losing a finger making perfect sense now.

When Deimos shifted the conversation to warming up, Catalina’s mind briefly conjured an image of literal flames before she blinked, realizing he meant stretching. She hadn’t expected that, given how warm she already felt beneath her layers of clothing. Still, as he began his routine, she followed along with a nod, acknowledging the logic. 

"Sounds like a plan," she agreed, remembering the long days of chopping wood back home, where muscle aches were inevitable if she didn’t prepare herself properly.

Without hesitation, she mirrored his motions, performing an assortment of stretches that targeted her shoulders, arms, and legs. The familiar pull of her muscles reminded her of those strenuous tasks she’d done countless times. Despite her initial nerves, her body moved with a surprising nimbleness, her flexibility coming naturally as she bent and twisted with ease. Her first goal? To avoid injuring herself right at the start of her training.

Catalina

And you won't understand the cause of your grief
But you'll always follow the voices beneath

Deimos

He nodded at her notions; it was a common sentiment, but not one he followed, and would correct with anyone who came into his training grounds. But then they were stretching, becoming far more fluid in movements and motions, intending to alleviate any pending injuries via torn or overworked muscles.

When that was finished, the Sword grabbed a quarterstaff from the armory walls, and made his way over to a makeshift target. This one had clearly been ‘injured’ recently in another assault and siege – stuffing billowing from several repaired instances and stitches. It likely wasn’t long for another skirmish, but such was their short-lived experiences.

Then he turned around, waiting for Catalina to join him, before he began explanations. “Typically, staffs are held like this.” He demonstrated thereafter – hands grasping with his left at the center, palm upwards, and right at the lower quarterpoint, palm down. It gave around a three foot point end, and eighteen inches at the end left to wield, snag, and utilize. “But you will find your own preference,” once she practiced enough. “There are many different stances and ways to guard, but we will start here.”

He stood with his right foot forward, with corresponding right hand inclining forward as well – matching. His weight was otherwise balanced and steady, firm into the floor, knees slightly bent, ready to move within a short notice. He remained that way, waiting for her to mirror and strive on her own.

you're all bronze and bite
all venom and fistfight

Guileless Son, I'll shape your belief
And you'll always know that your father's a thief

Catalina eagerly followed him from the stretching area to the field, her steps quick and her energy high. As they arrived at the makeshift target, she was all set to dive into the training, though she was still adjusting to the staff and her stance.

"Okay, so hands like this, right?" she said, her voice bright as she positioned her hands on the staff. However, as she moved into her stance, her balance was a bit off. She wobbled slightly, her smaller frame making it tricky to align everything perfectly.

"Oops..." she admitted with a sheepish grin. "Let me just fix that."
Catalina adjusted her stance, bringing her feet a bit closer together and shifting her weight to find a more comfortable balance. "There we go, that feels much better. I think this stance suits my size a lot better." Her voice was filled with relief and excitement as she straightened up.

She glanced at the makeshift target with renewed enthusiasm. "I feel like a baby deer on ice.." She giggled in admission for a moment, clearly it didn't deter her from the task at hand. Her clumsiness quickly gave way to focused determination as she prepared to engage with the training exercises in the field.

Catalina

And you won't understand the cause of your grief
But you'll always follow the voices beneath

Deimos

Ever the scrutinizing and analytical force, the Sword watched as she adjusted based on her own arm length and stance; they’d all find comforts in different figures and alterations, and if she was content with the outcome, he’d be fine with it. She might even change it again once they started swinging and blocking. “You can try that out, and always adapt if necessary.”

The baby deer on ice comment earned her the slightest arch of his brow and a roughened round of amusement, but otherwise his attention was on the fighting arrangements. “I could instruct you on a variety of movements, but I think you should test the weight of the staff, and how to maneuver it with confidence, on the target.” Nodding towards the effigy, he showed several swipes and strikes, some from underneath to knock at its chin, some to the side where ribs or hips would be, and others into the spine. Thereafter, he stepped back, having given her some ideas, but wanting her to figure out her own abilities and ease first. Anyone he taught was going to be utilizing their own mind too. “Then we can attempt blocking and defending.”

you're all bronze and bite
all venom and fistfight