Training it's a different kind of danger
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#1
Amalia
She has fallen out of practice.

Maybe it is the loss of her mother's staff, or the binding of the antlers to her own. Maybe it is the busyness of the season, the stress of running a shop and building relationships. Maybe it is the loss of her mother, her trainer, their weekly sparring matches the only tenuous bond they shared after her grandmother died.

Maybe it is the fact that each time she has tried to fight something, she has wound up at its mercy, waiting for rescue from someone else.

Amalia is dressed simply. Her tight black tunic shows a mottling of torn claw scars across her shoulder, silver against sun-tanned skin; her hair is raised in a messy bun, another scar revealed upon her neck. The wiry muscles which were once well-defined are diminished, not yet having recovered from the onslaught of Edrei's wrath. Between her hands a slender staff is gently spun and tossed in a rusty warm-up routine. Watch your feet, the girl can hear, a sharp instruction from an alto voice. Balance. Breathe.

Begin.
Roana Steadman
Soldier

Age: 35 | Height: 5'8" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 6 - Strg: 24 - Dext: 26 - Endr: 24 - Luck: 11 - Int:
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#2
Roana spent a lot of time alone these days. Well. Not per se. She spent a lot of time without adult company. Her boys took up a lot of her time which made progress on any work slow, and usually by the time she had a moment to herself she was exhausted. But today, she forced herself out. Training was important, even once you reached her level of skill. She could always be better. Always faster, always stronger. She could always endure more, hit harder, fight more fiercely. Improvement never stopped, only more difficult to obtain.

As she wandered out in search of a suitable place to work, she noticed a lone woman with a staff. The former captain watched her quietly for a moment, recognizing her from the mob before the spire, and then from within the Spire before she jumped through the portal. She hadn't taken the woman for a combatant, but she seemed to be trying.

Perhaps...perhaps she could try to build some bridges.

"Hello there!" she called out in a friendly tone. Unlike the more lithe woman, Roana was a physically imposing figure. Strong, toned muscles on wide shoulders, waist narrow but rock hard, each step exuding her formidable strength. She too was dressed to train, leggings, boots and a sleeveless shirt her choice, revealing the network of scars on her shoulder where the Spire Demon had bitten her. She was in every inch of her being a warrior. Yet, she smiled warmly at the girl. "I'm afraid we've never gotten a proper introduction. My name is Roana Steadman...would you like a sparring partner?"
Roana
May your past be the sound of your feet upon the ground
Carry on
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: shark Offline
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Posts: 3,098 | Total: 4,577
MP: 2580
#3
Amalia
Interruption.

Amalia spins around at the sound of the greeting, not yet knowing to be alarmed, though that will swiftly change. The sight of the woman is a slap on the face, ice freezing with deadly grip in her chest. The baker has not forgotten, not at all, and though her expression is largely neutral it is only through great force of will. She remembers fire, and anger, and words hissed in the night, accusations thrown with wild abandon, striking and biting down to the quick.

Today Roana speaks in a kindly voice, as though they are not enemies, as though the woman had not threatened to murder her dearest friend. It sets the girl further on edge, makes her more uncomfortable than she already is. Gripping her staff, Amalia does not return the fighter's smile: her face is hard lines and clenched jaw, a dangerous and rarely woken fury sniping at her tongue. "I know who you are," the wraith replies, her alto tone uncharacteristically short and flat. And then, because she cannot help it, because she has a million lacerations in her soul, trauma after trauma tucked away and never given face until now- "And I want nothing from you."
Roana Steadman
Soldier

Age: 35 | Height: 5'8" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 6 - Strg: 24 - Dext: 26 - Endr: 24 - Luck: 11 - Int:
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#4
Oh boy. Roana notices the way the woman stiffens, and immediately her whole countenance shifts. She deflates in a way, letting out a sigh before pressing her lips together. Blue eyes fill with clear sadness, and she glances at the ground. ”I know who you are.” Clearly. She didn’t need to say so for the former Captain to be quite sure of that. More importantly, it was quite clear exactly what she thought of her. ”I see. So that’s how we are going to begin.” she said with a tired sigh.

Roana looked back up, letting her arms flop to her sides as she considered the woman across from her. ”So you know I am Roana. What else do you know of me, since you know me so well. Tell me something about me that has naught to do with the Spire.” Roana said in a daring tone, knowing that the likelihood that this woman would come up with anything was pretty slim. ”Because, surely, I am nothing more than the Outlander whore, brutish, wench of a woman, who’s past times include plotting against the world and torturing bunnies. Right?” she said, using insults she had heard thrown her way at and since the events in Flowerbirth. But her tone wasn’t angry or harsh. It was tired. It was flat. It lacked any animosity or fire that the other woman had. Roana had heard it all before after all, and at this point, she was exhausted with it.
Roana
May your past be the sound of your feet upon the ground
Carry on
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: shark Offline
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Posts: 3,098 | Total: 4,577
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#5
Amalia
With every word that leaves her lips Amalia's anger deepens, until the embers in her chest ignite and emblaze like a bed of coals. So mistreated, so long-suffering-! Through eyes like knives the girl stares, her grip on her staff shifting unhappily, her eyebrows growing steadily more knit. Roana asked her to say what she knows, and the girl remains mute. Amalia knows as much as she needs, to know she is not this woman's friend.

Oh, but the soldier isn't done. The sunlight baker tilts her head, a bemused expression on here face. "I did not know you were those things." Almost innocent, almost kind- she shrugs as if to answer the more you know. "I don't know you. I know who you are. I know you threatened my people because we suggested caution, and that you have made no effort to learn our ways, and that you hurt my best friend."

This last part is said with inflections of steel, something wicked and dangerous in her eyes. Amalia will suffer many things: hurting her kin is not one. Claws grow from her barren nails, feline teeth suddenly visible behind her lips. "I'm not surprised to hear you torture bunnies, too."
Roana Steadman
Soldier

Age: 35 | Height: 5'8" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#6
Roana sighed and rolled her eyes. "Those are all things your people have accused me of, clearly." she said, doing her best to keep her own anger at bay now. "You claim to know quite a bit about me for having never spoken to me before. And who is your best friend? Rory?" she said dryly, crossing her arms. "I never laid a finger on him." she said, frowning. Now she was being accused of hurting someone she had never touched? Fabulous.

Where the hell was Ronin and his interpersonal skills when she needed it.

"But clearly it doesn't matter. You'd rather live in ignorance of my motives for the picture you paint. The only one to ever speak with me was Maea, who you've all treated cruelly. But yes. I'm the bad guy." she said, then held her arms out to her sides. But before she did, she unstrapped her claymore from her hip and tossed it aside, clattering on the ground. She was unarmed in the face of Amalia's staff. "So go on then. Take it out on me. Surely you want to." she said, steel in her eyes. "Maybe then you'll talk to me so we might learn from eachother and put aside this stupid blood feud.".
Roana
May your past be the sound of your feet upon the ground
Carry on
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: shark Offline
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Posts: 3,098 | Total: 4,577
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#7
Amalia
"Which of my people? Do you know their names?" She snaps it back like the crack of a whip, an accusation returned in full. You say we do not care to know you- but what do you know about us? Eyes narrowing, she curls her nose in marked displeasure, leopard fur bristling like armor on her neck, remembering Rory's tears that day, the way he had fought and suffered and ached. "You can hurt people in ways that are not physical. Ignorance is hurtful, too."

Amalia is ready to shrug again, to point out that no, she does not know her motivations, but it is action, not intent, that matters. But that changes quickly when Roana mentions Maea, who they all treat... cruelly? Amalia chokes a startled laugh, disbelief and indignation rampant on her face. "Maea?!" the girl repeats, taking a step toward the idiot Outlander. "Treated cruelly? I don't know what shit she told you. My mother-" spent more time with her than me "-cared for her since she was born."

"And, oh, so she was the only one? I suppose that makes sense- you've already proven you don't see Rory as an actual person, deserving of thought." Venom and vitriol, rarely spattered from her lips but flowing with freedom at last, the childhood wrath reignited once more. Another step forward as Roana drops the sword, inviting the girl to strike her, to make violence out of rage. "Tell me, Roana, our Caido-sent savior, when did you try to talk to us? Why do we have to bow to you fucking Outlanders, just because you come from some fancy place and think you're so much better than the people who have lived here for years?"
Roana Steadman
Soldier

Age: 35 | Height: 5'8" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#8
Oh for the love of all that is holy. "Sorry, I didn't catch the names of the near hundred people heckling me that day." she said dryly. Ignorance? Ignorance of what? "Please then enlighten me! I've asked what I am missing, what I don't know so many times and no one will say!" she said with an exasperated sigh.

Clearly what she said about Maea really set her off though. "Maea never said a bad word about anyone. But the things Rory said about her... he made her cry from the cruel things he said to her yet claimed to be her friend whilst she is the only one to attempt to make peace." she said, brows furrowing with anger.

Ooh boy. She needed to reign it in. She inhaled a slow breath through her nose and pushed it out her mouth, eyes closed. "I don't think I am anyone's savior. I don't think anyone should bow to me. I don't think I am better than anyone, I don't think that my place of birth makes me better, I don't. I just don't." she said firmly, arms still splayed to the side, open for attack. "All I want is for everyone - {/i}everyone{/i} - to live peaceful, prosperous lives. But if you hate me so much, then go ahead. Take out your anger."
Roana
May your past be the sound of your feet upon the ground
Carry on
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: shark Offline
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#9
Amalia
"Maea cries easily." Whatever Rory may have said to set Maea off, Amalia is confident it was deserved, measured and meaningful and in no way cruel. She knows that Rory refused to join the girl's attempt at a coup, stood aside and spoke his mind on the ill-advised idea. The girls share a fraught history; attempting to use the albino as a shield as as poor a choice as Roana could make. Remi, or Ronin, or any of the Outlanders with whom they share a bond...

It is a pretty speech of humility and goodness, each word more condescending than the last. But Roana has shown no real interest in doing any of the things she says, and again, Amalia does not care what the woman has to say. Words and intention are nothing without action, and none of the Ontlander's actions so far have demonstrated anything other than superiority and disdain. And she opens herself up to attack, another insult, another jibe- as though she thinks the girl a heathen, ruled by fury and nothing more. "I was taught not to strike the unequipped. I can be angry without being unsportsmanlike." Though she shifts her grip on her staff again, belying the fact that it is hard.
Roana Steadman
Soldier

Age: 35 | Height: 5'8" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 6 - Strg: 24 - Dext: 26 - Endr: 24 - Luck: 11 - Int:
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#10
"Oh, so she isn't an actual person, capable of thought?" she said dryly, turning her words back on her. Poor Rory with his hurt feelings, but oh, Maea just cried easy? Ridiculous.

She sighed and leaned down to grab her sword, reattaching it to her belt. "I was taught that if I wrong someone, I take the punishment." she said matter of factly, almost as if reciting something. Roana looked back at the woman - whose name she still didn't know. "I am armed. I can draw Krosis whenever I wish. This should not offend your honor code now." she said, arms still at her sides.
Roana
May your past be the sound of your feet upon the ground
Carry on
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: shark Offline
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Posts: 3,098 | Total: 4,577
MP: 2580
#11
Amalia
Amalia rolls her eyes as Roana rebuts her statement again, once more putting words into silence, projecting a strange delusion of conclusions onto something the girl did not say. She tilts her head, irritated and bewildered, wondering if the woman could hear herself speak. Could she truly be so self-involved, so trapped in her own grandiose reality in which she is a victim of everyone?

As though she were important enough for that.

Amalia is not accustomed to cruelty. She does not often hate. But oh, the leopardess has a dormant temper, a wildness which tears and snarls and snaps. "You do not think you wronged anyone," the baker points out, still bemused by the strange reality that Roana seems to have invented in her head. "But if you want to fight me, fine. It certainly seems like your one move."

Her grandmother would slap her. Her mother would cheer. And Amalia? Amalia raises her staff in her hands, swinging it down in a sudden strike, her bare feet anchored in the ground by claws, a leopard's snarl on her lips.
Roana Steadman
Soldier

Age: 35 | Height: 5'8" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 6 - Strg: 24 - Dext: 26 - Endr: 24 - Luck: 11 - Int:
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#12
Roana sighed internally, but she hadvalready decided she was changing tactics. Clearly no rational discussion was going to happen. So she would give Amalia what she wanted - a punching bag, an object for her anger. The former captain shook her head. "In some ways you are right. I do think it was right to take the barrier down. But I also understand the danger I helped unleash in doing so. You've every right to be angry at me for that." she said calmly, still looking the woman in the eye.

As she swung her staff, Roana did not move. She did not flinch. She just held the woman's gaze. The staff slammed down on her shoulder and Roana's jaw tightened as she she clenched her teeth. It fucking hurt. But she had suffered worse, and this seemed the only way she would make any headway, by letting her take all her anger out on her. The former captain remained standing, her shoulder only having dropped slightly under the force of the blow.

"If you shifted your feet slightly, and moved your body weight from back to front as you swung, you'd have more power." Roana suggested, noting her form, and giving her a way to inflict more damage.
Roana
May your past be the sound of your feet upon the ground
Carry on
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: shark Offline
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Posts: 3,098 | Total: 4,577
MP: 2580
#13
Amalia
She swing, and then-

Whump!

The staff hits shoulder, and Amalia gasps, nearly dropping it in surprise. There is no defense, no movement, only a wince from the woman as she lets the blow drop onto bone. Amalia had swung hard, anticipating some sort of response; she steps back now, appalled and surprised, her fury momentarily abated by the knowledge that she may have done some harm. "Are you okay?" the baker asks, "I'm sorry, I thought-"

Oh.

Oh.

What game is she playing? What is her goal? Calm as a cucumber, Roana replies with advice on how to hurt her further, as though she wants to make Amalia strike, to be the backwoods barbarian that the woman seems to believe them to be. And oh, the girl wants to, to take the condescending, stuck-up, holier-than-thou woman's neck in her teeth, thrash her on the ground like a rag-doll until that smug expression leaves her face. Inhaling deeply, teeth clenched in perplexed rage, the girl releases a silent prayer: Safrin, Vi, give me patience, help me to be calm. "Why didn't you block?" Amalia grinds out, circling around the woman slowly, her staff raised slightly in a defensive stance. "Do you think this makes you better than me? That being a fucking martyr absolves you of your sins?"

The claws on her fingers lengthen further; the fur now covers much of her back, extending into a tail. She snarls, and it is a leopard's snarl, rounded teeth pulled back in frustration. "What do you want? Forgiveness? Friendship? An apology? For me to say you're right?" Darting forward, Amalia swings low, aiming to knock the woman off her feet and end this farce once and for all. If there was ever a chance of reconciliation, it vanished as soon as Roana did not block, proving her contempt and lack of respect by refusing to so much as behave in sport.
Roana Steadman
Soldier

Age: 35 | Height: 5'8" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 6 - Strg: 24 - Dext: 26 - Endr: 24 - Luck: 11 - Int:
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#14
“No, no, no, don’t apologize. I’m fine.” Roana said with a light, short laugh, shaking her head. It was good, let her get her anger out, let her take the revenge she wanted or punish as she wanted. This anger ran deeper than words could fix. It ran deeper than logic. It ran so deeply in her core that time alone would never heal it certainly – so it seemed only recompense would heal it. Only then could things move forward.

And Roana so badly wanted things to move forward.

Of course, the anger flared up again. She wanted to sigh but resisted. ”I didn’t block because this is the only thing I have to offer you as recompense for the suffering I have caused you.” she said calmly, watching her with a somber gaze. ”I don’t think I am better than you. I don’t think I am absolved of the sins I have to bear – but that won’t stop me from trying to rectify what I can. Nothing I say will do so, all I have to offer is my self.” she said. No one ever gave her reasons for their anger. No one ever gave her ways to seek forgiveness or even just a way to set it aside and start anew.

But the woman got right to the heart of it with her angry questions. ”I don’t want an apology, nor that you say I am right. But I do want to find a way to move forward. And since I have wronged you so much that you hate me with this intensity, isn’t this what I deserve? Isn’t this what you want?” she asked, tone melancholy. Then the staff hit her right behind her knees, and in true fashion, they buckled forward and she fell to her knees, a hiss of air sucking through her teeth.
Roana
May your past be the sound of your feet upon the ground
Carry on


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