Training Beneath the Moon & Me
Aamu
Nate Wrenzaok
the Lone (Free) Ranger
"Doctor" / Guildmaster

Age: 37 | Height: 6'1" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 55 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 50 - Luck: 46 - Int: 1
PEMOTA - Mythical - Starwhale (narwhal) RAMOTH - Mythical - Dragon (Biopulse)
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Posts: 2,792 | Total: 4,183
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#1
NATE
when you're good
no one remembers
Really, Nate hadn't meant to come to the Grounds again so soon, but necessity called. And it at least gave him a chance to make some calls of his own.

Aamu is one of those calls. Maybe, given his current fragile mental state, it wasn’t the time to hone a new, deadly skill, but without the numbing distractions of alcohol or other such substances, Nate doesn’t have much to lean into.

Much has changed since he last saw his fellow ascended, Nate closer to divinity, missing an eye, and far tenser than he’d been before. Silence is an uninvited guest as they once again make the trek out into the wilds of King’s End. It’s only when they come across an unassuming set of stairs that Nate stops, turns to the other. ”Thank you. For uh, for coni out with me.”
when you're bad
no one forgets
Weaponsmith

Age: 361 | Height: Kinda short | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#2
Aamu
And Aamu, well, he's not exactly great either: he still feels guilty for the genocide of the prototypes, he spent a week worshiping light, and now he's nearly blind. The world is dark around him, an uncomfortable throwback to night-time as a mortal, and if you look at him for long enough, it's quite obvious. He stumbles more than usual, blinks owlishly and peers around, watches in weird angles and just seems bothered in general.

Walking out to King's End takes almost all of his concentration to not end up flat on his face, so he barely notices the silence.

How either of them is going to get any swordplay done in their current states is a mystery.

Then they're at the Last Step and it sends a chill down Aamu's spine. The mythical stairs end in hazy darkness and tentatively, he raises his gaze to Nate's. It's strange to see him with just one eye in his handsome face, and surely—surely it's a bit strange to gaze into Aamu's eyes as well, moon-covered as they are, his pupils a hazy silver.

"Of course," he says softly, stupidly glad to be standing still. Leans a little closer, squinting in an attempt to actually read Nate's face. Makes a decision. "Want to fight first and talk later, or talk first and fight later?"
Through the streets and the houses of gods you roam
and on their altars you lay your heart of stone
Nate Wrenzaok
the Lone (Free) Ranger
"Doctor" / Guildmaster

Age: 37 | Height: 6'1" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 55 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 50 - Luck: 46 - Int: 1
PEMOTA - Mythical - Starwhale (narwhal) RAMOTH - Mythical - Dragon (Biopulse)
Played by: Johnnie Offline
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Posts: 2,792 | Total: 4,183
MP: 0
#3
NATE
when you're good
no one remembers
”So there’s no avoiding the talking then?” Half of a smile manages to grace Nate’s lips, a brow lifting as he looks over his fellow ascended. It’s strange, how much the blank eyes suit Aamu, with the waterfall of white hair framing them.

Taking a step back, Nate all but falls onto the stone steps, no thought or care given to them whatsoever. ”I guess talk first. Get it out of the way.” It’s the most pragmatic solution, all things considered. Motivation, for when they finally get to swordplay.

Agreeing to talk is not the same thing as stepping into the spotlight, and by putting the choice in his hands Aamu has given him the chance to deflect for a while longer. ”What happened to your eyes?” Pretty as they may be, Nate knows this is not how the other man should look.
when you're bad
no one forgets
Weaponsmith

Age: 361 | Height: Kinda short | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 14 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 16 - Luck: 11 - Int:
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MP: 970
#4
Aamu
"No," he says gently, the trace of a sad smile curving his lips. It's—a bit difficult to explain. Nate's not someone he is close with, but it's just.. his face, the way he moves, the way he just falls down on the stairs like he doesn't even know where he is (—and honestly, he might not). He looks like too much has happened, and after everything Nate's done to help the Grounds, to teach Aamu, everything he did in the dark, Aamu considers him a friend and he's concerned.

The fact that he's not brusquely brushed off and told to mind his own business tells him he might be right.

Aamu carefully lays the swords aside on the steps (a calculated risk, knowing he might be rudely teleported) and sits down next to the other Ascended. Personally he would've chosen to train first, get that extra energy expended, but despite the question levied at him it isn't about him.

"The moon cursed me," he responds carefully, folding his hands in his lap. ".. I think." It could've been any sort of moon-like sprite, but that's besides the point. Still, a small frown lines his forehead and he puts a foot forward to poke his toe into the grass at the bottom of the steps. "What happened to yours?"
Through the streets and the houses of gods you roam
and on their altars you lay your heart of stone
Nate Wrenzaok
the Lone (Free) Ranger
"Doctor" / Guildmaster

Age: 37 | Height: 6'1" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 55 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 50 - Luck: 46 - Int: 1
PEMOTA - Mythical - Starwhale (narwhal) RAMOTH - Mythical - Dragon (Biopulse)
Played by: Johnnie Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,792 | Total: 4,183
MP: 0
#5
NATE
when you're good
no one remembers
A snort that is trying very hard to be amused leaves Nate. Words will only wind him tighter, but it’s preferred to fighting out all that energy just to let it boil again. Aamu sits beside him, Nate stretching out and not particularly caring where they bump against each other when he does.

”Well, shit.” Nate glances sidelong at the other man, bumps their shoulders together. ”Thats rough buddy.” Sighing, Nate lifts a hand to scrub at his face, before glancing up at the sky, at the cold, distant celestial light. ”The moons a bitch.” He might stay like that forever, his state slowly creeping towards a glare, had Aamu not turned to spotlight back onto him.

A hand lifts to touch at the scarred over eye. ”The other one was an upgrade. It’s uh...” Nate works his jaw, let’s his shoulders lift in a shrug. ”I got cursed, I guess, by Safrin. Part of getting rid of that curse was taking my upgrades.” At least this time, it had been an easy thing to get used to, no trauma accompanying the sudden blow to his field of vision.
when you're bad
no one forgets
Weaponsmith

Age: 361 | Height: Kinda short | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 14 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 16 - Luck: 11 - Int:
Played by: Neowulf Offline
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Posts: 229 | Total: 642
MP: 970
#6
Aamu
He misses warmth: he hasn't thought about it much lately, but his relative isolation since being reawakened suddenly has him yearning for it when Nate casually presses against him there on the step and reminds him of it. Hip, shoulder, odds and ends as one does when sitting close to someone else: impersonal pressure is all he feels. Dull and dead. Aamu's knees press together and he leans forward a little. "Mmh," he agrees with a grimace as Nate bumps against him. He's not the one actually suffering, though.

Aamu hedges a glance Nate's way. He seems a statue, stone in the moonlight, hard-eyed. And this time it's Aamu's turn to say "well, shit," though he actually reaches around the other man to give Nate a bit of a half-hug. "Now that's rough. Safrin's a right bitch." Worse than the moon.

He doesn't like it, but things are starting again: history repeating itself. And Safrin.. Sunjata... It makes him feel sick, terrified, angry, all manner of things he can't get out. "What happened?"
Through the streets and the houses of gods you roam
and on their altars you lay your heart of stone
Nate Wrenzaok
the Lone (Free) Ranger
"Doctor" / Guildmaster

Age: 37 | Height: 6'1" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 55 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 50 - Luck: 46 - Int: 1
PEMOTA - Mythical - Starwhale (narwhal) RAMOTH - Mythical - Dragon (Biopulse)
Played by: Johnnie Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,792 | Total: 4,183
MP: 0
#7
NATE
when you're good
no one remembers
Touch is not a luxury Nate has been afforded much of recently. Even if it’s distant, infuriatingly impersonal, the doctor presses into Aamu, his arms coming up to turn the half hug into a proper twisted bear hug. A rough bark of laughter wheezes out of hi, catching on the shards of emotion sitting in his throat. If he still needed breath, he’d choke on it.

”She’s fucking got it out for me, I swear.” Nate mutters as he draws back, fixing Aamu with a warmer gaze. His jaw clenched while he thinks, works the words over with teeth and tongue before they come. ”A lot happened. I’m... I’m actually kind of on a break right now.” Shaking his head, Nate glances back towards the ground. ”Running away from home, for a bit.”

Hands come out to grab at Aamu’s, Nate pulling the both of them up to his feet. He’d told the beginning, and the end, managed to leave out the meat of the middle entirely, and he realizes very suddenly he doesn’t even know how to put words to what’s happened. Doesn’t think he really wants to, not like this. Twirling them in a few tight circles, like a dance, Nate steps back suddenly, releasing the other man and glancing towards the swords pointedly.
when you're bad
no one forgets
Weaponsmith

Age: 361 | Height: Kinda short | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 14 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 16 - Luck: 11 - Int:
Played by: Neowulf Offline
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Posts: 229 | Total: 642
MP: 970
#8
Aamu
He had been afraid of overstepping, but as Nate twists in his arms to return the embrace he thinks that yes, he was allowed: maybe it was even needed. Nate seems quite free with touch, while Aamu has been very reserved since his awakening. Still, he raises his other arm to put his hand gently on Nate's elbow, battling a sudden urge to grab the doctor and never let him go.

So it is with some regret he allows Nate to pull back. Aamu waits in silence, patient, keen, but when some meager scraps of an explanation come they raise more questions than they answer. He doesn't know what to respond, how to fit it together, just thinks of Sunjata at the bar and Safrin and now .. this?

But he doesn't have to say anything, as he's pulled onto his feet and into a dance, twirled around in circles. Taken by surprise Aamu laughs, holding on to Nate's hands firmly as they spin, and finally stop. His tongue runs along the inside of his teeth as he follows the pointed glance, and he admits defeat. "Alright, alright. But you'll have to complain about Safrin to me afterwards." Delivered with a narrowing of his eyes and a pointy index finger and all.

Carefully (so as to not trip) he retrieves the swords, holding one out, hilt first, to Nate. "What do you know of swordplay?"
Through the streets and the houses of gods you roam
and on their altars you lay your heart of stone
Nate Wrenzaok
the Lone (Free) Ranger
"Doctor" / Guildmaster

Age: 37 | Height: 6'1" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 55 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 50 - Luck: 46 - Int: 1
PEMOTA - Mythical - Starwhale (narwhal) RAMOTH - Mythical - Dragon (Biopulse)
Played by: Johnnie Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,792 | Total: 4,183
MP: 0
#9
NATE
when you're good
no one remembers
A hand claps along Aamu's cheek while Nate moves away, the simplest gesture of gratitude he can muster, as much as it is a reluctance to pull away from the first contact he's had in far too long. Nate knows's he's left more questions than answers, had all but done it on purpose, but he doesn't expect the uncomfortable guilt that comes from the omission, that curls in the set of his jaw. Everyone he's spoken to had either known what he's gone through already, or they didn't care.

And here Aamu was offering to help carry that burden.

It's not even an offer, it's an order, and even if he would normally bristle at the chastisement, the wagging finger. It's exactly what he needs to get his head on straight again, to unload some anger and maybe begin to heal. "I'm not sure you'll want to hear all the complaining I have to do." Though, on the other hand, it would be nice to have an ear to vent to, as much as he could. Without liquor to loosen his lips, feelings are even harder to extract than a rotten tooth.

Nate at least has the decency to look sheepish before he admits his utter lack of expertise, a shrug rolling over his shoulders as he reaches out to accept the sword. "The Warden taught me some basics, before Longnight." He twirls the blade in his hand with a certain irreverence, obviously used to a shorter blade as this one passes dangerously close to his leg. He takes a moment to wince, before settling into a relaxed stance, the sword now helped dutifully before him.
when you're bad
no one forgets
Weaponsmith

Age: 361 | Height: Kinda short | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 14 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 16 - Luck: 11 - Int:
Played by: Neowulf Offline
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Posts: 229 | Total: 642
MP: 970
#10
Aamu
"Please," he says with a half-laugh, half-smile, light and easy. It's difficult to tell if Nate's cageyness is a polite way of saying he doesn't trust Aamu enough, or if he's just got issues with being offered kindness. "Complaining about Safrin is a favorite pastime of mine." She deserves it, for all she did in the war.

Some basics is nearly enough to make Aamu wince. They are cursed words known to every teacher of every discipline, but his pained face settles into one of mock disapproval as Nate twirls his sword. Not that he would've done much except bruise himself, since they're blunt practice swords, but it would've been unnecessary.

"Ah, long point," he says once Nate's settled in a stance. With his own sword held cavalierly in one hand, tip pointing harmlessly away, he steps closer to the other man and offers a few small corrections, such as the alignment of the blade and the straightness of his arms. (And maybe his strong but delicate hand lingers a moment too long on Nate's forearm, some vague inner confusion bubbling up inside of him—)

He takes a step back, mirroring the guard in front of Nate. "A simple, useful guard. Very good for dissuading your opponent from advancing, offers you many options to go into and plenty of reach." This is delivered with a mock thrust to emphasize his point. It is controlled, precise.

"Next guard—ox." Aamu shifts, fluid and elegant, raising his blade and facing Nate with his side instead. His arms are straight and held above the side, and slightly forward, of his head, the blade's tip angled forward: an obvious threat. He nods slightly to encourage Nate to mirror it.
Through the streets and the houses of gods you roam
and on their altars you lay your heart of stone
Nate Wrenzaok
the Lone (Free) Ranger
"Doctor" / Guildmaster

Age: 37 | Height: 6'1" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 55 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 50 - Luck: 46 - Int: 1
PEMOTA - Mythical - Starwhale (narwhal) RAMOTH - Mythical - Dragon (Biopulse)
Played by: Johnnie Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,792 | Total: 4,183
MP: 0
#11
NATE
when you're good
no one remembers
”Well how can I resist if you’re going to let me indulge?” Nate rumbles, warm enough to be friendly, but restrained enough to still give Aamu an escape. He knows who he is, know the... volume and pallet of his complaints, and it is not something he would subject on anyone without some warning. Save for maybe Sunjata.

This sword is longer than what Morgan had taught him, but he can hazard enough of a guess on how to stand, how to hold it. He doesn’t move as Aamu steps closer, inspecting him, offering corrections where necessary, except to flex here and there, under blue eyes and a whisper touch. Except to grin widely, smugly at his teacher for the night.

Nates one attentive eye drinks in every motion the other ascended makes, committing  what he can to memory with a quiet, intense focus. He nods once, mimicking the thrust a few times. ”I don’t think I need any extra reach” He jokes, thrusting once more and letting his hips move with it this time.

”Ox.” Nate repeats softly, all at once focused and intense again. He tries to mimic the grace, but can’t quite manage it. His elbows stick out, the doctor seeming almost hesitant to bring the blade too high above his head.
when you're bad
no one forgets
Weaponsmith

Age: 361 | Height: Kinda short | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 14 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 16 - Luck: 11 - Int:
Played by: Neowulf Offline
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Posts: 229 | Total: 642
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#12
Aamu
"Exactly," he says, soft voice, soft smile (and yet there's something wicked, triumphant in it—). He got Nate where he wanted him, but he won't press.

It almost feels like this isn't about fencing. It's in the way his fingers insist on lingering on Nate, in the way the other grins, as if he knows something—as if he can smell the slight confusion, the fascination. It's nearly enough to make Aamu blush, and he doesn't know how to respond, how to behave, how to joke it all away—

"My my," he merely ends up saying, voice quite dry, his traitorous gaze flicking to Nate's hips as he thrusts with them. He's not even sure what about it is so fascinating, or what he wants (—nothing). It's easiest just to get on with it, so he transitions into ox, and watches as Nate does the same. Aamu peers at him for a moment, before bringing his own blade down again and stepping closer. "Here," he mumbles, straightening out Nate's arms and bringing the hilt up a little bit higher. "You have more strength when your arms are straight, and more distance to your face if something should come close. Really, a lot of fencing is just... controlling where you have your opponent. And say you parry, into ox-" Aamu steps back and places his sword slightly over Nate's, as if it's been parried, and then reaches up to tug on the tip of Nate's "-you can just thrust here, at my chest or face, while my sword is somewhere else entirely doing fuck-all."

He steps back again. "Ox isn't so much of a stance you'll stand around and wait in, it's more.. a really useful defensive position. So you're standing in long point, someone does a downward cut at you and you just parry up into ox." He mimics the transition, and stays in ox. "You can do it on either side of your head, depending on which is your leading leg at the moment." Aamu nimbly switches, then lowers his blade so that the hilt is at hip height, sword pointing diagonally forward and upward. "The plow."
Through the streets and the houses of gods you roam
and on their altars you lay your heart of stone
Nate Wrenzaok
the Lone (Free) Ranger
"Doctor" / Guildmaster

Age: 37 | Height: 6'1" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 55 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 50 - Luck: 46 - Int: 1
PEMOTA - Mythical - Starwhale (narwhal) RAMOTH - Mythical - Dragon (Biopulse)
Played by: Johnnie Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,792 | Total: 4,183
MP: 0
#13
NATE
when you're good
no one remembers
Dryness is still a reaction, still sparks satisfaction all on its own. Nate can’t even be upset at all the corrections that come along with his sloppy stance, can’t drag the grin off his face. ”I like to think I’m pretty good at controlling my opponent. I just don’t usually use a sword.” A bright laugh leaves him as he steps forward, leaning into the tug of his blade to test out the advantages he could take.

Leaning back when Aamu does, Nate laughs again, his brows lifting. ”What, you think I can’t stand in this pose forever?” Nate waves the sword around, switching from side to side as Aamu does, just to show he’s paying attention.

”Oh, the plow?” This has to be intentional at this point, right? It feels like such a low hanging fruit, and yet Nate grabs it anyways. Dropping into the stance shown, he waggles his brows. ”Is sword fighting always this... suggestive?” Not that he was complaining, that was very clear by the ever present grin, and the way Nate seemed to be leaning ever closer.
when you're bad
no one forgets


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