[Training] caught in the undertow

WESSEX out of the night that covers me It’s the last place in Torchline Wessex has yet to explore and she needs that MP so naturally, its the first place she goes once she gets out of the Underground - and after she makes sure the Grounds hasn’t imploded in her absence. It hasn’t. But her head might. The Queen dives into the ocean and into the water, deep enough that she can’t be easily seen from anyone above. Following the shoreline, she follows the flow of the current to the cave system and surfaces again, seaweed and salt saturating everything she has. But there is quiet here. And a new place to explore. Dripping, she reaches out to touch the smugglers’ markings, unable to read them for the first time in a long time. black as the pit from pole to pole i thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul

MABEL

The girl had found some measure of relief in the darkness of the Rae’s Fingers, but that was about it. Exploration amongst cave systems, save for the weird assortment in the Underground, had never been her forte. She stuck to the forest, the eaves and ease of those shadows, the brush of undergrowth, the entanglement of leaves; far more eldritch there, then here, side-eyeing the water, the canals, and the wake of the unknown.

So she didn’t expect to hear a splash resounding, and she jumped – instinctively turning towards the noise, but it could’ve been any multitude of things. The tide coming in. The current pulsing outwards. The rush of madness did nothing to ease the designation in her gut, in her bones, and she wondered if she should travel onwards, or grab her parasol where she’d left it at the entrance, and simply run.

Only a moment later did her eyes catch upon a familiar figure in the dark, covered in seaweed and salt – and something came back, back, back, until she’d cornered herself towards a wall and thought about the entanglements once caught in her hair, the waves pushing her down, down, down –

“Wessex?” She called, dumbfounded, once she’d found a corner and ceased to quell the panic in her chest.

I bare my teeth
and stretch my claws out

WESSEX out of the night that covers me Public figure that she is, even Wessex didn’t expect to hear her name in these water-logged tunnels. Turning quickly to see who called to her, the Wraith is even more surprised to find that it’s Mabel. She hadn’t seen much (if anything) of the girl since LongNight, and if she remembers correctly, this seems like an odd place for the Ascended to be given her first death. “Mabel?” she quickly replies, hand dropping from the markings as she takes a step towards her younger sister. A bit of seaweed plops off her clothing and back into the water, which makes the Queen take note of her appearance. Chuckling to herself, she begins to try and pick it all off while keeping one eye on the girl. “Bit suurprised to see you here. How’ve you been?” black as the pit from pole to pole i thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul

MABEL

Color them both shocked then, in between pale skin and shadowed proportions. While her heart still leapt in incongruent pulses and rhythms, Wessex managed to reply, peeling away the seaweed as if nothing was amiss. Another perfectly normal god damned day. Mabel swallowed traces of something that might’ve once been bile – probably nothing now save for her own insecurities and fear.

“I’m okay,” she mumbled, quiet and disconcerted, eyes purposefully not tracking on the water. She quickly backed herself into the wall, and marched along its sides, intertwined with the shades of shadows as best she could – feeling woefully inadequate at every turn. “I was trying -,” she began to admit, and then, flustered, her brows furrowed and her hand instinctively curled to where her dagger was resting; not touching its hilt, but meandering, wandering, as if its power was the only thing she had left. “I was trying to get over my fear.” Her other palm gestured openly to the liquid before them, but it hardly seemed to matter. “Why are you here?”

I bare my teeth
and stretch my claws out

WESSEX out of the night that covers me If there was meaning (and she should have known, but she didn’t think about it, not really) in so casually removing the kelp, Wessex didn’t catch on to it, the brutal truths of Mabel’s drowning and death not quite so real to her as it is to the girl. Catching the pause and furrowed brow, she tries to recalibrate for the situation, particularly when fear is mentioned. “Oh,” the queen replies, understanding a little more now. “I think this is one of the few places is Torchline I haven’t been. Thought I ought to fix that…” trailing off, she gives a half-hearted shrug and turns her gaze briefly to the walls and the signs and what she assumes is actually a very cool maze. “Can I help… at all?” Utterly unsure of how she could help, or even if it’s wanted, the demigod nevertheless offers, because Mabel is family and she is always here to help the family. black as the pit from pole to pole i thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul

MABEL

Mabel hadn’t been so fortunate in exploring; but setbacks in death and residual traumas bit away at the notions of clambering much further on. The youth would likely end it here – head home after staring into the abyss, the watery tunnels, the vacant labyrinth, preferring the comfort of her own land, over a world surrounded in the merits of the sea. Her head ducked downwards, casting a breath she didn’t require, hands and legs itching to do something.

Which was maybe where Wessex could come in, having far more years of experience and training under her belt. “I’m not sure. I think it might have to be something I get over myself,” and she shrugged her shoulders; even though it looked like she didn’t dare tread any further. “I've been training with my daggers. Someone named Aurelia said I needed more sparring partners.” That she couldn’t do it all on her own, and so the statement was left hanging in the air – not really a question, but the tilt of her head might’ve indicated it. Unless the Wraith had other matters to attend to.

I bare my teeth
and stretch my claws out

WESSEX out of the night that covers me An odd sense of pride blooms within the matriarch as Mabel tells her that the fear is something she’ll have to get over herself. It’s true. No one can face their fears for them. But if she could ease it somehow… that would be something she would readily agree to. “I think so - but if you need a safety net at any point, just let me know.” And that’s where she’ll leave it, offered and on the table, shifting a bit physically as the conversation and energy changes around them. “You can never have too many sparring partners,” Wessex agrees, happy to hear that Aurelia was helping Mabel (at least to some extent), a crooked, fanged grin growing eagerly across her face. Her hands feel itchy, like they need to grab something with a pointy tip. “Want to try against my claws? I’d love to see what you’ve learned.” black as the pit from pole to pole i thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul

MABEL

A portion of the girl wondered if she could rely so heavily on people, after years of only doing so with her twin. With Evelyn gone, with Aamu tracing along, with Henry committing to his own tasks at his burnt away home, there weren’t many friends left. Nor was she certain what that would mean – a safety net. Dangled over puddles? Over stream beds? Screaming out against the tides of the sea? Was it something she could get over, or a rush of avoidance meant to be for eternity? So all she could was silently nod, appreciating the offer, but uncertain what else to do with it.

It seemed very small in comparison to everything else going on, anyway.

Her hands went to her dagger again, revealing it from the depths of her hilt, and her eyes to the claws; to the extension of might and means and melee – knowing for certain she was likely going to be annihilated and crushed. “Okay.” And from there, in the quiet acceptance, in the rush to prove and try and become something other than this little farm girl with hopeless dreams of vengeance, she adopted the same stance Aurelia had taught her; nodding, indicating for the Wraith to maneuver.

I bare my teeth
and stretch my claws out

WESSEX out of the night that covers me Wessex murmurs her approval as Mabel adopts a fighting stance and mirrors her, flexing her forearm muscles to release the metal claws from their flesh-and-bone cage. The slip easily out from between her right hand’s knuckles and she shifts slightly, to keep their long points away from her. “Use your speed to try and find an opening to stab me,” she instructs, wanting to embolden the girl to use everything the Voice has given her to its utmost advantage. That being said, she brings her claws around in a slicing arc at chest height, using them as one might use a sword, more of an attempt to keep Mabel at bay than anything else. black as the pit from pole to pole i thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul

MABEL

She wasn’t there for Wessex’s approval, but took it anyway, stepping forward on the encouraging aspects, to live and thrive in the shadows, to take upon the speed of evening doldrums and dark interfolds.

There was hardly a difference in height differentials – but certainly in strength. The youth had zero desire to be notched and nettled by those claws, even if she wouldn’t be able to feel it – inherent instinct. Even a predator didn’t want to be caught out by another larger, stronger, mightier foe.

So she took what she’d learned from Aurelia, striving to shift out of range, and to tuck her daggers near Wessex’s side; a neat, quick little pivot of feet and movement. Not haphazard. Not impulsive – driven, calculated, beginning to form into muscle memory.

I bare my teeth
and stretch my claws out

WESSEX out of the night that covers me Such is the usefulness of not feeling pain; Mabel could strike at her all she wanted and Wessex would nod, heal herself, and say again. If the girl could land a hit - and the Wraith isn’t about to take it easier on her just because. Mabel tucks in behind her swing and pivots towards her right side, unprotected as it is, and very nearly connects. Wessex, however, jerks herself to the left and sidesteps out of reach, using the momentum from that move to end up balanced on her right leg while sending a sharp, quick kick towards Mabel’s knees with her left foot. Gotta mix it up a little - and they'll be fighting Attuned. Some animals have very powerful kicks. black as the pit from pole to pole i thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul

MABEL

Mabel hadn’t expected it to be easy or simple with Wessex. The woman was superior in years, strength, experience, and ability, and the youth would be content with practically anything at this point. Starving for dominion, for prowess of her own, striving and struggling to reach those heights beyond perseverance, and into some feral, little, demonic thing meant to be feared.

Her speed certainly wasn’t enough, but either the Wraith was going easy on her, or something else was afoot; because she launched, leaping, jumping, pivoting, to avoid the kick. An intrinsic, instinctual moment, even for those who’d long since lost the memory of pain.

But never the ones who’d already died.

Gritty and determined, she gripped her dagger harder, and used her momentum to flicker back towards the Queen, rampaging and twisting along her back – hoping to catch something there.

I bare my teeth
and stretch my claws out

WESSEX out of the night that covers me Is something else afoot? Maybe. Maybe not. Wessex would never say one way or the other if asked afterwards. Mabel nimbly recoils, retreating out of range of the Wraith’s foot, which starts to come down as the girl directs herself to the Wraith’s back: a smart move, there are some vulnerable bits there and it isn’t easy to protect when you’re facing the other way. Unfortunately for Wessex, her left hand isn’t showing any talons and an over the body swipe won’t cut it, so the demigod reaches for their shadows and calls upon them to reach for Mabel’s feet and trip her up. black as the pit from pole to pole i thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul

MABEL

Daggers wouldn’t matter here – not when other things were at play.

Mabel’s newfound tech wouldn’t have saved her, even as she nimbly pivoted and moved, even as she twisted and turned, even as she maneuvered with all the grace of some eldritch witch. It could only see above, and not below; where shadows rippled and coiled.

And grabbed, ripping her completely from her stance, tossing her downward into the ground. It was a raucous thump, even as she braced with arms outward and teeth grinding in her jaw. It was a blessing in that moment that she couldn’t feel pain, but it could’ve been an immeasurable, bewildering sensation.

Instead of rising, she opted for a vantage point, swiping her weapon towards the Wraith’s feet, unaware of what had tangled around her.

I bare my teeth
and stretch my claws out