Training On Your Toes
Peter Pikely


Age: 33 | Height: 5’3” | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
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#1
Peter
Peters day’s had most recently been filled with near never ending training. Even on his days off now it seemed, though this was a more personal choice than his usual sessions. The name Rory has been thrown around. If there was one thing Peter was good at, one thing he had learned, it was how to listen, to soft out the unimportant from the important. This seemed like the important, and he was smart enough to put a face, and more, to the name.

The more had included the location of a farmhouse, one that Peter found himself at early in the morning. Perhaps too early. But he wanted the chance to size up the man who might be a captain himself. He raised a fist, and knocked on the door, standing at attention and waiting for an answer.
I don't wanna live that way
I do not wanna live in pain

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Leatherworker

Age: 36 | Height: 175cm / 5'9 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#2
Rory always rose early, a habit so old it wasn't just routine—it was who he was. Even when he had been up late, or slept badly, his brain kicked awake at about the same time every day, regardless of how the cycle of daylight shifted over the year. And as a result of that, he was awake when Peter came around, though not yet outside. He was still perched in his kitchen-living room area, munching on a slab of bread topped with some precious cheese and smoked meat.

Outside, Vaya, the smaller and more guard-y of his dogs, gave her typical stranger-danger bark from the goat pen. She stood below the fencing, her brown eyes hard and cold as she stared at the stranger on his porch.

The disturbance was followed shortly by a knock at his door, and Rory, who had been thinking it was probably just another fox, felt himself go cold.

Normally, he wouldn't have.

But these times were different. This day and age was different. Zariah was arresting people left and right and for what reasons? She had spoken favorably enough of him at the audience but he didn't trust her one iota to not come for him for pretty much any reason at all she might conjure.

He set down his half-eaten breakfast and drew a deep breath, wariness etched into his posture as he went to the door and pushed it open.

The cause of the official knock turned out to be a short, weirdly-put-together young man. Half a second later Rory placed him: it was, of all the people, Peter Launceleyn. This did nothing to soothe Rory's mounting anxiety.

"Uh, good morning," he said, feeling totally under-prepared for having the Queen's relation on his doorstep this early in the morning. "How can I help you?"
Peter Pikely


Age: 33 | Height: 5’3” | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 4 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 14 - Int:
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MP: 87
#3
Peter
Peter wasn’t sure why, but he had expected the door to be answered far sooner than it actually was. Especially after the warning barked out by the apparent guard dog, a gesture that Peter managed to glance at while he waited. Animals never liked Peter, dogs especially, and the feeling was usually mutual. This was probably the first time a dog had had any reason to dislike him though.

When the door did open, Peter found himself looking up, his mouth suddenly dry. Why was he here? What was the point of it? It was a fight to resist the urge to literally shake the thoughts from his head, Peters face going stint instead as he worked through his sudden nerves.

”Good morning.” It was easiest to repeat the greeting, so Peter could fill the silence while getting his actual point out together. ”I am...” He paused, focusing on what he was going to say, ”...here to test your abilities. Against my own.” Peter nodded to emphasize his words, make it sound more like he was doing something more official. He even gestures in the direction of a pasture, empty in the early morning.

The realization that he didn’t have anything actually planned came down upon Peter hard, but that was a problem that could be solved on the fly. Peter was juatbas comfortable fighting hand to hand as he was with his magic or a blade.
I don't wanna live that way
I do not wanna live in pain

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Leatherworker

Age: 36 | Height: 175cm / 5'9 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#4
”Good morning,” the other responded, and had Rory been any less stressed by this unexpected visitor himself, he might've picked up on the sudden strain of anxiety in the other. Like knows like, after all, and when he was relaxed he could usually tell if someone tensed up. As things were now, though, Rory was wary and uncertain and a little, well, almost afraid, his mouth dry and heart pounding, so he was in no state to consider how Peter Launceleyn might be feeling.

The pause in the middle of his sentence didn't help either. You're, what? Here to arrest me? Here to look for Jigano? To tell me you've killed Jigano?

He fought the urge to shake the words from the other man.

They came in due time, though, and Rory found himself blinking in surprise. What? He followed the gesture towards the pasture, slowly stepping out onto the porch and shutting the door behind him. Test his abilities? But why? What abilities? How? What was going on? He wanted to ask, to refuse, but he learned one thing that morning: he did not dare to.

"Okay," he said, the confusion evident in his tone and face as he made a small motion to set off for the pasture, yet he waited for Peter's initiative and lead. "But I think you will find my abilities quite, ah, limited."

Better be upfront about it: Rory had no fighting experience, and he did not want Peter to learn this disappointing fact through a mock fight. Better he know it from the start.

(And what world did he now live in, that he had to feel ashamed and embarrassed and afraid he did not know how to fight?)
Peter Pikely


Age: 33 | Height: 5’3” | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 4 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 14 - Int:
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#5
Peter
Limited? Peters head cocked slowly to the side, his brows coming together in the picture of quietly annoyed confusion. Was this really the man so many people were making a fuss about? Well, fuss was perhaps not the right word, but his name had bee mentioned enough that Peter had picked up on ti, ha decided to come out here.

With a sigh and a shake of his head, Peter turned an led the way into the grassy space, trying to figure out what to do now. If they couldn't spar properly, then perhaps he could assign some task? Something like what Zariah had done for him the first time they had trained together.

"People have been... talking about you." Peter began, turning to face Rory once he'd stopped and looking around the pasture. "I'm here to... to see if there is reason to be talking." He knew it sounded ominous, the kind of thing that would put a nervous stone in his stomach if it was directed towards him. Years of watching other people rule had given him some experience to work with now that he was on this side of the encounter, but it was a little worrying how easy it was to slip on the glove of power and wield it.

Peter rolled his shoulders and pulled a scarf from around his neck, wrapping it around his arm in two  loose loops. "Try to take this from me. However you can." It sounded like a reasonable exercise, but he kept a careful eye on the other mans face, watching his reaction. "I.. I'll fight back, but not to hurt you."
I don't wanna live that way
I do not wanna live in pain

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Leatherworker

Age: 36 | Height: 175cm / 5'9 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#6
He got the distinct feeling that he had failed before he'd even begun. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything? But then again—what if Peter had conjured up a training sword or something, and tossed his way, and told him to fight? That would've been very humiliating and embarrassing. Rory wasn't a fighter, not a trained soldier, he was a man with too much heart and not enough sense to keep quiet and recently, the ability to set you on fire.

Which, he figured, was something, but not exactly of use in a spar.

"Uhm," he said once they'd stopped. Talking about him? Why? What possibly could they be saying? And why in such a context that made Peter decide it was a good idea to come out here and 'test him'? "Okay."

Then the other man took a scarf and wrapped around his arm. Rory watched, his gaze keen, his mind and body anxious, fingers fidgeting around each other. Take it from him? However he could? Well, he doubted that turning the Launceleyn into a charred corpse and picking the singed cloth off his dead body was acceptable, so.. he had to try and come up with some other way.

"Okay," he said again, taking a moment to watch the other. Shorter, slimmer built—so likely weaker, but possibly faster and more agile. Rory licked his lips, and decided to try and get a feel for him first. He lowered himself slightly before running at the shorter man head-on, feinting a swerve to the left before going right, hoping to get past and behind him and turn quickly enough to make a grab for the scarf from behind.

He felt like a ridiculous fool.



Training post 1/4!
Peter Pikely


Age: 33 | Height: 5’3” | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 4 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 14 - Int:
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#7
Peter
This was not going the way Peter had expected. From what he'd heard, he had been expecting.... well, something. Maybe he had put too much stock into a single name being thrown around. He was used to other names being threats, whereas Rory in the flesh was just some guy, nothing special.

Peter fidgeted as Rory sized him up, the expression on his face close to bored. At least he knew for a fact now that he was telling the truth. The run towards him, and the feint, were obvious, easily sidestepped by Peter. Turning on quick feet, Peter took a few steps back, increasing the distance between them again.

It felt more fair to not use his magic until Rory did, but that left him at a little bit of a disadvantage. For the most part, Peter had faith in his abilities, and the other mans lack of training, but if he actually let Rory get close enough to grab him, he might be in trouble. Peter shifted his weight, ready and waiting for the next attempt.
I don't wanna live that way
I do not wanna live in pain

Coding base by Sky/Odd!
Leatherworker

Age: 36 | Height: 175cm / 5'9 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 3 - Strg: 16 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 8 - Int:
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#8
Okay. So, his move hadn't been successful in the conventional sense—Peter had read him and sidestepped away, keeping his back and his scarf to himself, and Rory whirled on the spot to keep him in his sights again. Seemingly nothing gained, but Rory's theory had proven true: Peter was faster and more agile, and another tidbit gleaned was that his reflexes were very fast. He was no stranger to combat, even if no sharp objects were involved.

Which meant that Rory had only about two ways of besting Peter: getting hold of him and trying to out-wrestle him with brute force, or with magic.

Charred corpses still didn't sound good.

But, he had other tricks up his sleeve, and he'd get around to them soon enough.

He'd try his first option again, though, rapidly advancing on Peter, hoping to read his body and move with him—not quite trying to close the distance enough to touch, just.. get close enough to be able to start thinking about it. Getting close enough to tackle him might be the endgame, but it was just as much an exercise in reading and predicting movement patterns, as he hoped to put Peter on a sort of side-stepping defensive.

Rory's aim, low-key, was to bully him into backing into the fence, and if he was successful in driving Peter into the fence (or trip him over a water trough) he'd immediately seize onto the chance and make a grab for the scarf, but if not.. well, eventually he'd get to those other tricks.



Training post 2/4!

I didn't really know how to explain it but by like pseudo-attacking he's trying to make Peter sidestep/back up continuously xD I imagine Rory will sometimes misjudge in which direction he decides to dodge but yeah I imagine it a bit like Rory is the a cutting horse and Peter the cow <_<;
Peter Pikely


Age: 33 | Height: 5’3” | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 4 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 14 - Int:
Played by: Johnnie Offline
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Posts: 695 | Total: 4,183
MP: 87
#9
Peter
Having his first move so easily sidestepped didn't seem to deter Rory, though he did seem to take a moment to reassess his strategy. Outwardly, Peter gave him as little to work with as possible, nothing in his posture or face to indicate what he was thinking or planning. The second feint seemed as easy as the first, but Peter very quickly realised two things.

One, Rory wasn't pausing his advance anymore, which, two, put Peter on the defensive. He was being corralled, forced into a corner where he'd have no choice but to retaliate. A frown crossed the blank mask of his face, Peter's brows furrowing as he thought. There were a few false steps that he could take advantage of, that he did take advantage of, but it wasn't enough to keep the distance between them. Not only that, but he was, quite literally, being forced into a fence, and if that happened, he'd have nowhere left to run.

Peter took his eyes off his assailant for a moment, just a moment, to see how close he was to the barrier. As he did, his foot went into a dip, and with his body twisted the way it was, Peter was thrown off balance. He fell, and in an act born of desperation, threw the scarf behind him, thinking that if he could recover quickly enough he could reach it again before Rory. Rolling less than gracefully, Peter popped up to his feet as quickly as he could and turned his back to the other man, going to grab the scarf.
I don't wanna live that way
I do not wanna live in pain

Coding base by Sky/Odd!
Leatherworker

Age: 36 | Height: 175cm / 5'9 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#10
Rory wasn't experienced enough when it came to reading intentions from a face, anyway, not in these circumstances. Peter's blank slate face was almost a relief, something he did not have to focus on, so that he could pour all his attention into observing the Launceleyn's stance and position instead. And not even that gave much away: it was like he managed to silence his body into not saying anything about its intentions before he moved. Every so often Rory misjudged which direction Peter would go, which let the other man get away, but just as quickly Rory was back in front of him, hounding, hounding, hounding, too busy watching Peter's chest and shoulders and hips to see the frown beginning to form on his face.

So when Peter suddenly twisted to look over his shoulder and subsequently fell it took Rory by surprise, though it had been the kind of opening he'd been waiting for. The scarf fluttered in the wind. And it taught him one thing: Peter had figured out his tactic, because he'd obviously looked for the fence.

But there was no time for thought after that split second surprise.

Rory threw himself like a wolf towards Peter, a rather impressive lunge across the distance, hoping to obstruct the other man enough in getting back to his feet to pull off the second, most important part of his plan.

Out of nothing a goshawk suddenly appeared by the scarf, whispered into life in the space between two heartbeats. Sharp talons reached out in an attempt to snatch the scarf from the ground before Peter would have the chance to get up and get it back, and if successful, the bird would take flight with its prey.



Training post 3/4!
Peter Pikely


Age: 33 | Height: 5’3” | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 4 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 14 - Int:
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#11


















Peter felt more than saw the lunge towards him, and stayed low, hoping to avoid whatever Rory’s intention was. It was awkward, his hands scrabbling in the grass and his knees damp with the morning dew, but Peter was pleased to find it was working. At least, he was pleased until he looked up and saw his scarf being scooped into the talons of a bird.

He’d been slowed down just enough to miss his chance to recover it.

With a noise born of frustration, Peter sprang to his feet, turning as he did to face Rory again. At first, his irritation was simply because he’d lost his scarf, but then, he caught sight of the expression on Rory’s face, and looked up to see the bird circling above. Like it was waiting. He didn’t understand the exact how, but Peter knew this was the other mans doing.

It was childish, and petty, but Peter didn’t want to lose. He started forward, closing the distance between Rory and himself again, but instead of devoting his focus to his opponent, he was watching the bird, waiting for its furthest loop, and then willing a weighted net over it. Not spectacularly heavy, but enough to start the hawk into a descent. Peter started running, ducking low and shouldering Rory as he rushed past the bigger man. With his head start, he should be able to get there first, but Peter had been surprised once already.

Peter
The only thing I know is this: I am full of wounds and still standing on my feet.
Leatherworker

Age: 36 | Height: 175cm / 5'9 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#12
It was a graceless affair, that lunge; it was just brute force and raw intention, meant to distract. Rory didn't get hold of Peter, who crabbed out of the way, but as he caught himself on hands and knees against the dewy grass he knew that it didn't matter. The hawk had the scarf firmly in its talons and rose skywards again, circling as it waited for Rory to call it down.

But if he thought he was going to get a triumphant finish, calling the bird down to land on his arm and offer the prize to him, he was wrong: Peter wasn't going to let him get off that easy, nor with that amount of flourish.

Rory stood, tensed and ready, waiting for some sort of attack but not at all sure what to expect. He knew that Peter was Abandoned, but not what powers he possessed.

When the attack came it was not towards him, not at first, but rather a net falling out of nowhere across his hawk (which, to be fair, also had come out of nowhere). It cried out, startled as it was forced downwards, the net weighing on its wings and forcing them to fold. The next moment Peter shouldered into Rory, barely knocking him aside but forcing him to take half a second to shift into a forward momentum instead.

In a dead sprint, Peter would beat him any day.

Rory tore after him, running as fast as he could while still concentrating: the bird dissolved into nothing, the net and the scarf plummeting faster, but instead a small bear whisked into existence in his pasture. It's purpose in this fake life was to protect the scarf from Peter, who would definitely reach it first.



Training post 4/4! The bear is similar to an American black bear in size and appearance.
Peter Pikely


Age: 33 | Height: 5’3” | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 4 - Strg: 11 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 14 - Int:
Played by: Johnnie Offline
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Posts: 695 | Total: 4,183
MP: 87
#13
Peter
As the net closed around the bird, Peter felt a surge of triumph. Stumbling Rory had slowed him, but not by enough to matter. Running backwards may have posed an issue, but Peter was sure he could easily outpace his opponent forwards. He wold even be in a position to catch the bundle, which was suddenly bird free, much to his combined relief and confusion. His hunch about it being magic had proven correct, but now he was left wondering what next?

What next turned out to be a beast, something Peter had never encountered in his own world, and hadn’t wandered enough to see in the wild in Caido. Animals never liked him, and this one looked like it didn’t like anything. Peter slowed, his footfalls growing uncertain. What was he supposed to do? He wasn’t going to get by the bear, there was no chance.

The lead he’d gained on Rory was all but gone now, he could hear the other man but didn’t dare look behind him. A split second idea came to him, born of desperation. As Rory passed him, Peter started running again, keeping the other man between him and the bear.

It wasn’t enough. The bear growled as Peter came close, and even with the buffer of Rory Peter felt safer keeping a distance. He watched with a frown as the other mans fingers closed around the fabric, but nodded approvingly when he was looked at. ”Clever.” Peter complimented genuinely, gesturing vaguely at the pasture.
I don't wanna live that way
I do not wanna live in pain

Coding base by Sky/Odd!
Leatherworker

Age: 36 | Height: 175cm / 5'9 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 3 - Strg: 16 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 8 - Int:
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#14
He was sprinting after Peter, watching the sudden bear and the man's back, reading the uncertainty as he slowed. The bear showed its teeth in an impressive snarl, and Rory ran past the other man—not quite a dead sprint anymore, because the need to rush was gone. Peter didn't seem inclined to get close to the beast, though he did tag along after Rory, probably hoping to trick the bear, but eventually seemed to decide against going close anyway.

Wary, expecting something to come and turn the tables as Rory had turned them first, he stepped in behind the bear and bent to pick the scarf up. His fingers closed around it—a little wet with dew but otherwise undamaged—and nothing happened. Breathing hard still from the run he straightened up, watching Peter over the back of the bear.

It seemed to be the end of the exercise. ”Clever,” he said, and Rory wasn't sure whether to feel pleased or uncomfortable. What if Peter wouldn't like Rory besting him in such a way..? Especially after he'd said he wasn't any good?

But this hadn't been a sword-fight, this had been something else.

"Thank you," he ended up saying, letting the bear slip back into the aether it had come from. Rory stepped through the now vacant space and held the scarf out to its owner. "I think you would've kept it from me easily, though, if it hadn't been for this." This being the slight demonstration of his powers, a sparrow flitting out from the folds of the world to perch on the thumb of Rory's outstretched hand.


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