[PQ] substance and blood

remember that you can't save everyone

remember that you have to try

A new season, a new cycle of circumstances, learning, and potential, with winter approaching, and LongNight in its grasp. The last time he’d hosted a weapons training, besides those individualized, had felt like lifetimes ago, and with both familiar and unfamiliar faces utilizing the fold of the barracks, it was high time for another. There were notions of everyone being able to defend themselves in some capacity, and though magic and shifts took them to prospering parameters, other individuals might not have grasped or found those skills. Perhaps swords, shields, daggers, and bows were considered primordial, age-old, but they could still be useful if and when applied correctly.

He just wanted them all safe.

After leaving a notice on the Temple boards, he’d begun setting up the particulars. Goals and targets for moments of archery, where they could draw back their strings, set their gaze upon bulls-eyes, imagine adversaries or enemies stopped in their tracks. Makeshift figures, entities, meant to represent another combatant, stuffed with grass and hay, set upright for cutting, slashing blades. There were other things he could stoke and create, depending on what the participants craved to learn – and always the catapult at the end, simply for amusement’s sake. Then, while he waited, he set out the weapons available, a range of staffs, blades, bows, and whatever the rest would feel inclined to snag.

Zuriel rested in the corner, a long unicorn yawn embellished, a safeguard in case anything went awry.

--

This is an open weapons training PQ! No need to bring any, just come on in (though if you have your own, by all means)! I’ll move this along when we have four slots filled. Thank you!

1. Oliver
2. Weaver
3. Evie
4. Jigano

out for vengeance

DEIMOS

OLIVER

Oliver sucked.

Okay, that was a bit mean and non-specific.

Oliver sucked at hand-to-hand combat as well as self defense. While he had started to learn how to truly channel his animalistic side, he still really needed to learn how to properly fight another person. Despite Wessex and Loren trying to help him learn, he still clearly had a lot of room to grow. So it was safe to say that the moment a Notice was posted, Oliver found out and immediately decided to go.

Wearing a pair of dark brown tight pants to hopefully allow for easy movement and a loose fitting burnt orange colored sleeveless top, he made his way to the Barracks. Within his boots were the two blades he had managed to gather, hoping that they would be suitable enough for combat. Of course, he also wanted to learn how to work with other types of weapons so maybe Deimos would be able to figure out the perfect weapon for him. For now, he'd settle with what he already had and follow instructions.

Once he arrived, he offered Deimos a smile and a nod, wishing that he could send a message through their bond. Unfortunately, he seemed to be one of the few who couldn't talk through the bond using this human form... so that sucks.

i just want my existance to be
more than trembling

She did remember Deimos’s offer for her to visit the Barracks. She’d done so once before and ended up training with the fiery Melita, and had rather enjoyed the fight. It was like an itch she could not scratch when she goes too long without fighting. When her family was whole, long ago, they’d spent so much of their free time training, fighting, enjoying each other’s company, that she still longs for something similar.

Life may be different now, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t come back to familiar comforts.

When she’d seen the notice, she’d decided it seemed like as good a time as any to return. It may be different than the fight with Melita, but still, clearly there would be people there looking to practice and learn. She was capable of both teaching and learning, and wouldn’t mind the group setting. It felt a bit more like her old life.

Deimos is there, an array of various weapons already set out for them. Oliver too, and she gives each a smile and a nod. As usual, Weaver’s scythe is on her back and her knives, including the one Deimos made for her, are around her waist. Though she is game to fight with any weapon. Maybe she ought to practice with a damn bow...that was one thing she was frightfully bad at. Weaver settles in, waiting for instruction.

weaver

-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --

Quote by Charles Dickens

EVIE

Evie comes prepared with her daggers and an eagerness for the proposed training. She has been practicing with moving targets as Deimos had helped her with last time, and she has grown quite proficient since then. Though she feels that it's time to learn another weapon if only to expand her repertoire. She may not be much of a fighter, but as she had told Deimos last time, she wants to learn how to be.

Evie gives a little wave as she walks onto the grounds, acknowledging those already gathered but mostly focusing upon their instructor standing at the figurative helm. That's a far more important task than socializing today.

_{Table Code by Sky!}

He was an odd militia member, perhaps, but a loyal member of the town's defenders nonetheless. He knew better than most how important it was for a combat medic to be able to defend himself and his patients on the field, and so when word had gone out, the bard had decided to appear, as he had before.

He wore his usual garb of layered tunics against Leafchange's playful breezes and cooling weather, but the long, many-pocketed sleeves of his undertunic were tied back out of the way to reveal the lean muscles of his arms. His white hair was similarly pulled back into a pragmatic braid for the coming excitement.

He arrived with his beloved rapier on his hip, balanced by a long knife on the other. A crossbow and quiver of bolts that the General would likely recognize as his own making were slung over his back as he arrived, nodding to Weaver, Oliver, and Evie in recognition. Isuma dove down from the sky to peep happy greetings to Zuriel, joining the unicorn in the peanut gallery for the afternoon as her companion settled in to listen to the General's instructions.

remember that you can't save everyone

remember that you have to try

They arrived while he prepared, a well-formed group of trusted individuals. Oliver surprised him, but only because of the uncertainty perpetually infusing and permeating through his movements, his voiced thoughts; earning a nod from the General, glad to see him here, willing to strive and try. Weaver, Evie, and Jigano earned the faintest of smiles, whatever etchings of amusement or pride he could sketch along his foundations – briefly perusing the materials they’d brought with them.

Then it was time to begin. “Thank you all for coming,” because he was grateful they were attempting to gain better abilities, better defenses, better skills; trying to become tacticians, expert wielders, or proficient in their own rights. Whether this was to merely guard themselves or others didn’t matter; he was here to orchestrate and unfurl, unleash and uphold their safety while practicing, while skirmishing, while presiding in foreign distinctions or age-old, inherent harpooning. “My intentions are to have you practice using different weapons today. Some you may already be competent in, and others you may have never used. I want to ensure you have a variety of munitions and abilities at your disposal.” For whatever may came; the future entirely uncertain, and the past inkling with too many tragedies, not enough triumphs.

“We will start with the bow.” His eyes went to Jigano’s distinct crossbow and quiver, the air of recognition clear, since he’d been the one to create the manifestation. “You may grab one,” indicating where they were laid out, each the same design, some varying in length and size, the quivers resting beside each, already instilled with several training arrows (for fear aims wouldn’t be quite true at the start). “And a bracer,” following through on his directions by doing the exact same, grabbing hold of a bow, settling the quiver on his back, and placing the bracer along his arm.

Waiting for all of them to follow suit, he then continued, marching towards the targets set before them – ringed with painted bullseyes. Some might even have certain faces adorned in the middle (Zariah was a highlight on one, and enemies from his past on some others). In silence, he modeled notching the arrow, repeating the movement several times, slowly, watching to see they followed through. “You draw back your string, like so,” another display, undulation and ripple of muscles pulling back the taut thread. “Let your eyes stay on the target, not the bow.” A common mistake, and one he’d done a series of times before, in his ignorant youth, training the same way they were now. “Then release.” His fingers did exactly that, and the arrow flew, sliding through the air with deliberate power, hitting his target with an audible thump.

Then he backed away, out of their range, intending to go behind them, and fix any stances, proffer any advice, or let them learn on their own.

--

No post order!

Grab a bow, a bracer, or use your own! Try notching an arrow and let them fly at your target! Dice roll will determine how well you did!

Oliver Evie Weaver Jigano

out for vengeance

DEIMOS

He listened to the reasons given, ones already familiar to any member of the militia or those who had survived past years among the violence and tragedies of Caido's demesne. His lips quirked into a grin at the first weapon they were starting with, and he took a moment to shift his arsenal around to better suit the task at hand. The dagger was shifted to the back of his belt and the quiver of quarrels deftly unclipped from the sling across his chest and back so it could rest where the dagger had been at his hip. Next, the crossbow was unslung and he checked the string for signs of wear or strain.

Finding none, he nodded to Deimos and winked at Evie before stepping up in front of the target with Zariah's face - both of them could probably have guessed his destination even before he moved. He stepped on the stirrup and drew the string in a single smooth, powerful motion that had muscles flexing with the strain before it settled into the catch. With the prod flexed he dropped to a kneeling position even as he raised the crossbow and fitted the stock to his right shoulder. A bolt was deftly slotted into place and he took aim. Exhaling, he waited for the moment when his chest ceased to rise or fall, finding the brief second of peace between heartbeats to squeeze the trigger.

Aiming for dead center between Zariah's smugly cruel eyes.

OLIVER

Familiar faces began to file in, only one person did he have no real interactions with. It seemed at least Jigano and Deimos was familiar with her as no introduction were made before they were quickly diving into things. Unlike usual, Oliver remained extremely quiet, listening to Deimos with a new attentiveness. Even when commanded to grab a bow, he made no comments, merely walking over and grabbing the materials needed. The bracers were placed on his arms, though, he was a bit slow as this wasn't something he had ever worn before, relying on watching others to figure it out.

Once more, he waited for at least one other person to go before him, Jigano in this case. It'd be a bit embarrassing to go immediately after Deimos and honestly? Probably embarrassing to go after Jigano as well, but he absolutely wasn't about to go lost. Nodding to the General, Oliver took a step forward and took in a deep breath. Raising up the bow, he tried his best to mimic the stance displayed by the bard and the general before he took aim at one of the normal targets, uncomfortable with the idea of shooting at anyone in particular.

Releasing the arrow, Oliver let out his breath and waited to see if his target would hit.

i just want my existance to be
more than trembling

Weaver offers a smile and a nod to the others who come, one she doesn’t know and Jigano. Her attention shifts back to Deimos though as he begins to speak. ”Did you pick my worst weapon to start with on purpose?’ she says to Deimos with a tease, clearly not minding. That’s the point of coming here, after all, to learn to be better than she is currently. She’s already moving to grab a bow and bracer, strapping the latter on. She has used a bow, but not much, though she doesn’t particularly care if she happens to be bad at it. As he teaches, she mimics the movements. They are tips and explanations she has heard before, but still she listens, takes it seriously, figuring that eventually she has to stop sucking with a bow if she does it enough.

Once Deimos is done, she watches Jiagno, who seems to know what he is doing, looking for hints, though his weapon is different from her borrowed one. It is so different to watch, but she enjoys the moment, before Oliver picks his own target and Weaver finds a face she does not recognize. Jigano had taken the best one.  Weaver takes her stance, elbow in line with her shoulder, eye’s on the target as Deimos suggested. She aims a bit high, knowing the arrow will arc downward before it hits the target.

She takes in a breath, and releases.

weaver

-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --

Quote by Charles Dickens

EVIE

Evie doesn't have strong feelings either way about the bow, but at least she has some decent arm muscle and has been practicing with moving targets. It's easy to follow along with Deimos' instructions as he demonstrates them in a perfunctory manner that speaks of years of experience. Her fingers - though calloused from her own life of a different work - are not nearly so deft and sure, but they do the job sufficiently.

Everyone lines up with their own target, and Evie has only a moment to hope nobody is bad enough for their shot to go sideways and hit another trainee, and she gives a tiny snort to herself at the morbid idea. Then she lifts the weapon she chose, pulling the string back to her cheek, and taking an uncertain breath that she exhales before releasing the string and tries not to flinch as it launches the arrow.

_{Table Code by Sky!}

remember that you can't save everyone

remember that you have to try

Well, either his instruction was excellent, or they were far more skilled than they’d let on. Watching from behind, he corrected a few techniques and finger grasps, but otherwise was compelled to watch each release of the strings, the notched munitions, with contentment and pride for each of them. For an instant or two, one could imagine they were true archers across the battlefield – danger volleying forward, descending towards adversaries and enemies.

Because one by one, the arrows flew, and struck their targets. Jigano’s crossbow barely missed Zariah’s makeshift, painted eye (if there was a muffled laugh behind him, Deimos wouldn’t admit to it). Oliver, despite his slim build and general apprehension, managed a beeline to the image sketched in the middle (a very juvenile image of Confutatis, but no one would gathered there would know who she was). Weaver’s contortion of this being her worst weapon earned an arch of his brow as it segmented straight towards her bullseye, almost directly to the center. Evie’s armaments struck true, a little to the right, but still managing just fine.

He snorted from where he’d witnessed. “Well done to all of you.” Beginner’s luck, experience, or something else in the wind? “Time for a challenge then.” He maneuvered forward while they rested their bow-arms for a moment, taking only a few instances to move each target back a yard or so. Their previous arrows remained where they were, resting expanses of what they’d already accomplished, reminders that they were quite capable of achieving them again. Once he’d motioned out of the way, back to his former lines to bear witness and instruct, he proffered the command. “Again.”

--

Everyone had wonderful dice rolls! Due to your wild success, the targets have been moved back some yards.

Another round of arrows! Let ‘em fly! No post order!

Jigano Oliver Weaver Evie

out for vengeance

DEIMOS

She really loves being proved wrong when it’s the good sort of wrong. Not that one lucky arrow makes her good with a bow, but at least it makes her not completely terrible. She practiced the least with it, and usually it took her a little bit of time to remember what she was doing (not real helpful if she actually needed to use a bow in a proper fight).

Deimos moves to push the targets back, and she takes a moment to let the bow down and look over the others. There’s only one woman there she doesn’t know, but the other woman seems proficient in weapons as well. If she happens to catch Evie’s attention, she’ll give the other woman an approving sort of nod. The world needed as many badass women as possible.

Once Deimos is clear of the targets, Weaver raises the bow again and sets up. Feet hips width, elbow in line with the arrow. Again, she aims a little high, takes in a breath and lets the arrow fly.

weaver

-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --

Quote by Charles Dickens

EVIE

Her arrow is slightly off-center, but Evie's beaming smile doesn't even bother to take that into account. It's far better than she had hoped for considering her lack of experience with a bow itself. At least she hasn't made herself out to look like a total fool in front of the two strangers gathered together with her and Jigano. Though her ego has been greatly reformed, Evie is still a rather proud individual.

Deimos ventures forth onto the field and Evie lowers her weapon, relaxing the muscles and gently flexing to release any remaining tension. She's not quite sure how she feels about him moving the targets back so soon, not when her success could have easily been a fluke, but she's not going to argue with the General. His education has yet to steer her wrong.

When the command comes once more, Evie lifts her bow again. Her breath is steadier this time, but still uncomfortable and forced, not used to having to even out the trembling of her hand while holding the string taut. Releasing it once more, she hopes for the best.

_{Table Code by Sky!}

A few tweaks and a quiet suggestion from the General had Jigano tightening his stance and lowering his shoulder such that when the bolt left the string it flew true and sunk deep. Right into Zariah's damn face. He grinned, a sharp expression for a man, better suited to a carnivore, and his eyes flicked to Deimos's stalwart form, a brow arched in expectation that the target would collapse, or the bolt would shatter in a stray breeze, or someone else's arrow would take him in the foot.

When none of that came to pass he released the breath he'd unconsciously been holding, realizing that his fellow warriors had succeeded wildly, against all odds. Grinning ruefully, he nodded at Evie and Weaver in silent congratulations for their successes, and Oliver received brief wink of approval for his improvements in warfare, a far more impressive display than the last outing in animal forms.

Of course, it wouldn't be training if they only did it once and called it a day. With a soft chuckle at Deimos's increasing of the challenge. It might have been easier for the archers to take a few steps back to a new line rather than move the targets themselves, but it gave the General something to do while they chose their next ammunition. Another bolt of silver, fletched in the remnants of the feathers that Deimos had once been able to conjure on a whim, was drawn from the quiver as the bard stepped on the stirrup and drew back the string once more before slotting the small arrow to its channel. Waiting for their mentor to return behind the lines, Jigano lined up his shot, exhaled and found his center, and released the trigger, aiming for Zariah's other eye.