[Training] [se]working up a sweat

WESSEX

the wraith

she tied you to her kitchen chair
she broke your throne and she cut your hair

Far more like Buttercup than General Antiope or Joshi, Wessex ambles along the mismatched wooden bridge (brittle, indeed), dragging her fingertips through the colorful vines. Warm, heartfelt pinks and royal, wine-dark purples intermingle with golden yellows and this kind of lush, undeniably beautiful greenery is exactly what she wants to bring to the Grounds. Intertwined with the trees around the Oasis? It’s a daydream she’ll never be able to quit, this ever-hopefuly vision of an enticing, beautiful home.

Every step is sure even as her mind is elsewhere - her feet and sense of balance solid and dependable in every way that this bridge isn’t. But that’s Wessex for you. An Earth and fire lady through and through, if one were to ask - she is everything the Brittlebone isn’t.

Still fully capable of surprises, though, and she is surprised to find Ru here - or maybe dismayed. There had been absolutely no follow through on their last conversation. And that - well, that shouldn’t have surprised her, but it did.

and from your lips she drew
the hallelujah

Hotaru

Comfortable enough to think you'll take her
But when she smiles, her teeth are razors

Follow through is a little delayed right now considering her unexpected dual quests, of which she is now trying to hurry through. The deadline for war feels ominously close, despite how she has now become more removed from it. So it is that she is armed with a slingshot and several lightweight metal balls, practicing alone in the middle of the Oeurwoud. Or perhaps not so alone - her shot goes wide as the creaking of the bone bridge startles her, and the woman whirls to pinpoint it, abandoning the new weapon she is trying to learn to begin reaching for something far more intangible and deadly.

Until her eyes land on Wessex, and she stills abruptly, hackles smoothing as quickly as they had begun to rise. "Wessex," she says softly, for lack of anything else in the sudden silence of her own mind. Struck motionless by the General's appearance. So instead of drudging something up that may entrap her in explaining painful things she doesn't want to think about - things like torn soul bonds and aching loneliness - Hotaru lifts her paltry weapon and gives a faint twist of her lips. "Know any tips for this thing? Trying to complete a quest."

Where she comes from, there are no saviors

WESSEX

the wraith

she tied you to her kitchen chair
she broke your throne and she cut your hair

The back of Ru’s head isn’t nearly as lovely as the front of it, and even though Wessex feels the Valkyrie begin to reach for her power, she finds herself opting not to try to gather it in herself.

Hotaru has been one of her weaknesses for a long time. The least of them, perhaps, but one nevertheless. If she wanted to strike the Wraith the only retaliation she’d find would be automatic - nothing Wessex has control over. “Hotaru,” she says in kind, pausing with a hand still in the hanging flowers. Without expectation - or anything else, really - in her ice-blue gaze, the General watches with a quiet curiosity, not sure where this encounter will take them, but willing to go along for the ride.

When it’s down the weapons trail, she has to exhale a soft, barking laugh. “It’s not my favorite, nor my weapon of choice, but I’m sure the basics apply to it to.” The distance between them seems to close in a breath, and she’s reaching for the slingshot, a slight frown on her face. “Why a slingshot, though?” She murmurs, unable to fathom why someone who knows what does and does not have power, might trouble herself with a child’s plaything.

One thing Ru most definitely is not, is a child.

and from your lips she drew
the hallelujah

Hotaru

Comfortable enough to think you'll take her
But when she smiles, her teeth are razors

If Hotaru is a weakness for the Wraith, the same could be said in turn. She hopes it will not someday be the death of her, this easy, uncontrollable stillness that overtakes her the moment she registers Wessex’s face. The woman seems softer, fingers tangled in flowers and sunlight dispersed over skin it can no longer harm. More…human. The few signs of Ascension washed away until the General looks as if she walked straight from a domestic fantasy Hotaru can’t afford to entertain.

The space between is easily diminished, and Hotaru hands over her rudimentary weapon easily, a smile twitching at her own lips at Wessex’s grumbled doubt. “It’s not the weapon itself that I’m aiming to be dangerous, but what it can launch. Same theory as an arrow, but with more affected surface area.” It’s more entertaining to be mysterious and vague, even as she sidles closer until - if the world were a little different - Ru would be able to feel Wessex’s warmth radiating against her own bare arm. “But that requires learning to aim it accurately.” Thus her current vendetta against the tree trunks, one she is reluctantly engaging in as her chagrined grin and drawling tone reveal.

Where she comes from, there are no saviors

WESSEX

the wraith

she tied you to her kitchen chair
she broke your throne and she cut your hair

Humming thoughtfully to herself, she examines the slingshot (a normal slingshot, just as the Valkyrie’d said) and tests the band’s flimsiness with a gentle tug in one direction, and then the other. “It isn’t a fire kind of projectile, is it? ” An idle, casual question to the untrained eye, but they both know why she’s asking. It isn’t because she doesn’t trust Ru - it’s because she has to do her due diligence.

“Come,” the demigod utters, an invitation as much as a teaching command, as she opens up her arms to invite Hotaru against her chest. Not in typical embrace, oh no, that might break the two of them and she well knows it. The General’s deft, firm touch push-pulls at Ru’s waist, turning her around so that the two of them are front to back, spooning as they stand, because Wessex is spine-tinglingly close. An inch or two and Ru could lay her head back on a leather-clad chest - and if the Ascended needed to breath, it would surely come warm and humid against her ear.

“So you know the challenge is in the flimsiness of the band. Too rigid and it won’t go far, so that’s why you need a loose one, and you therefore need control more than you need strength for this." Sliding a bit to one side to give her pupil room to move again, Wessex keeps her eyes trained on the blonde’s upper body, murmuring a quiet, “Draw it for me.” while she watches.

and from your lips she drew
the hallelujah

Hotaru

Comfortable enough to think you'll take her
But when she smiles, her teeth are razors

She could lie, is the thing. Hotaru lies as easily as breathing. It’s not fire, no, but being free with her information is merely another chalk line drawn on the scales she teeters between. Old and New Gods. Ascended and Human. “No, it’s ice,” she shares quietly, and does not linger on the poetic justice of having chosen such a close oppositional force to fire.

Wessex’s open arms bid her forward, though it’s a graceless sort of step forward, uncertain where the General wants her. There’s no need to question for long as strong hands maneuver the Valkyrie to stand pressed with her back to Wessex, perfectly enveloped. Her breath stutters in her throat, ears turning slightly pink against her otherwise ironclad control. This isn’t the first time she’s had the Wraith so close. In a variety of scenarios. Hotaru’s allegiance is to her loved ones first and foremost, having learned her lesson from Helovia about swearing her faith to a God, but considering Deimos is one of the highest in those ranks this still feels like a stolen moment away from disapproving eyes.

The command shouldn’t make her blood heat in her veins, but she isn’t keen on examining her own control issues and how those play into her kinks right now. So instead she tightens her fingers around the weapon newly returned to her hand and obligingly lifts and draws, the sling empty as she submits herself to Wessex’s gaze for fine tuning.

Where she comes from, there are no saviors

WESSEX

the wraith

she tied you to her kitchen chair
she broke your throne and she cut your hair

Ice? It’s a surprise, but it’s also good to know because it is something she has some experience with. Neron is all Ice and Life Drain and Illusions, and he’s been kind enough to share that with her in the distant and not-so-distant past. “Ice is fun,” she offers with a wicked, fang-tipped grin, her voice curling and dipping in its insinuations. Ice is so very fun. Especially when it’s hot.

But we’re training now, so keep it in your pants, General.

While Hotaru draws the band back, Wessex partially shifts a bit of herself so she can draw on the Kitsune’s powers. The tip of her nose changes, along with her ears and her pupil’s scent comes rushing in on her, beating down her senses like a barrage of fists and feet. She has to pause for a moment before trying to mask her reaction by scooting back to figure out where Ru is aiming. She brings aiming elbow down a little bit, pulls the stabilizing hand so its more in line with the aiming hand. Then a hand quickly taps at Ru’s outer thighs as the final thing to adjust (do they linger? Who's to say?) “Pick a strong stance. Find your target. Hand to ear. Exhale. Shoot.”

And then with a flick of her wrist, she sets the picture of a molten tiger in front of them, snarling and moving a little bit in its anger, but not very much.

and from your lips she drew
the hallelujah

Hotaru

Comfortable enough to think you'll take her
But when she smiles, her teeth are razors

Fun? Oh, it can be. And even in Hotaru's hands, volatile and violent in the ways she intends to use it, she will still consider it fun. Her answering smirk is short-lived, vanishing beneath the too-controlled stillness of her face as Wessex pulls her close, but the satisfaction of approval lingers. As does the curl of something else in the pit of her stomach at having seen the attractive cut of Wessex's grin.

Hotaru is too focused on remaining still for inspection to notice Wessex's transformation at first. When she does her breath hitches slightly on an inhale, tilting her chin just sideways enough to take in the half-transformed features. "Beautiful," she murmurs, and has to bite the tip of her tongue to not outwardly wince at the slip of the tongue. Wessex leaves her line of sight seconds later, sparing Ru the tragedy of marinating in her embarrassment. Only to have the secondary struggle of not reacting to the easy, almost proprietary touches that adjust her stance. Or maybe that's just wishful thinking. Ru doesn't have a great track record with her dumb heart and beautiful Ascended.

Eyes that are too well-trained to not be drawn to the appearance of the illusion snap to the offered target, all other less pressing thoughts trickling away as Wessex's voice comes from behind her ear. Hotaru inhales, exhales slowly in the same way she does with a bow, and releases on the exhale. Watches the steel ball rocket towards the illusory fox, sailing just beneath the ribcage. Knocked a little low by the linger, incomplete release of her fingers on the strap. Hotaru curses lowly under her breath. Close, but not close enough.

Where she comes from, there are no saviors

WESSEX

the wraith

she tied you to her kitchen chair
she broke your throne and she cut your hair

Beautiful? Wessex? It’s a compliment she’s heard so few times that she can’t accept it and scoffs under her non-existent breath, pushing the sentiment away, but not the offered morsel of intimacy. “Wait till you see the whole thing.” Because yeah, her tails are sleek and fancy as fuck.

Silent and hawk-eyed as she watches Ru aim and fire, the metal ball sailing under the tiger’s ribcage, but not through it, as intended. Pursing her lips thoughtfully before moving again, the General leans forward, murmuring what seems like an easy question, “Did you let me distract you?” Whether or not there’s an answer, she shifts back into the eyeline and gestures for her to aim again. The tiger remains, still living in the space before them.

“Again, but this time, finish your exhale before you shoot. And try hand to jaw, instead. It’s either a wrong angle or you’re not pulling back far enough.” She’ll watch from the side this time, instead of behind. There isn’t much room on the Bridge, though, so… she can only give Ru so much space before she’s in the flowers and over the edge.

and from your lips she drew
the hallelujah

Hotaru

Comfortable enough to think you'll take her
But when she smiles, her teeth are razors

Hotaru clicks her tongue in lighthearted disapproval of the woman’s rejection of the idea. Ru is never wrong thank you very much, and she only accepts and invites into her life the highest quality of anything. Wessex may not be the fair maiden of fairytales with golden hair and unblemished skin (wait…) but she is undoubtedly beautiful all the same. And Hotaru intends to take her up on the implied offer of seeing her form in full.

After she gets this shot right. Which may be never.

The Wraith is a tease of the highest order, and Hotaru shivers slightly at the soft voice in her ear, knuckles white around her weapon. “I’m sure I have no idea what you mean,” she objects regally, because if she admits to anything then Frey is getting a show instead of a training session.

Compartmentalizing takes a little longer than normal, but the scant few inches Wessex gives her seems to be enough to get her head on straight. (Hah.) This time she nods sharply and brings her hand back to her cheek, following the General’s instructions verbatim. The twang of the band precedes the success of the ball scoring straight through the heart area of the illusion, and the Valkyrie grins, automatically turning towards Wessex in search of praise before catching herself too late. She tries to salvage it, “Now if only all enemies held so still, hm?”

Where she comes from, there are no saviors

Wessex

some turn to dust or to gold, but you will remember me

Of course Ru doesn’t have any idea what she’s talking about and Wessex is a lady (to some extent) and she would never insinuate that the Valkyrie is a liar. No, they don’t lie to each other. They may use sleight of hand and three-quarters truths, but they don’t lie to each other.

So she watches with an amused half-smirk, chin on her knuckles, and when Ru makes the shot, Wessex is immediately beaming - the proud and overly emotionally invested teacher. “Yes!” she cheers quietly, fists half-raised. She makes no attempt to hide her praise until Ru starts to diminish her achievement. After a moment with a quirked brow in question, she shrugs. “I mean, if you want something living and moving to aim at…”

And she isn’t going to make it so easy as a person-sized target, either. The Wraith shifts as she slides past the Valkyrie, pale skin morphing to black fur and not one, but nine tails, all tipped in white. She appears to be a regular black fox - but those waving tails mean she’s far, fare more than a simple trickster creature. Casting her gaze back towards the hybrid, she seems to say now do it again, but without me. And she does not stop her back-and-forth pacing, keeping a close eye on her pupil, even at every turn.

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Hotaru

Comfortable enough to think you'll take her
But when she smiles, her teeth are razors

A lighthearted smile brightens on her face at Wessex's effusive reaction, pleasure feeling like cotton tufts floating about in the ivory cage of her chest. Their entanglements are too convoluted to be so easily reduced to teacher and student, but for a moment with Wessex's excitement in her ears and summer flowers hiding them away from anyone else, the world almost feels simple enough to have it be real.

The fantastical atmosphere seems intent on lingering, her breath stolen and caught in her throat as Wessex moves past her, shifting like water into a creature far more enchanting than the illusion could have possibly conveyed. Hotaru lets her eyes greedily take in the kitsune, plentiful tails and all. Dazzled, but not enough for the words not to register, making the woman frown. "I don't want to hit you," she demurs, obstinate. Even though it wouldn't wound Wessex, it would certainly hurt, and Hotaru admittedly isn't sure if the woman can feel things as a human might when in her vixen form. So instead she lifts her slingshot and only pulls it back enough for the barest amount of launching power, knowing Wessex would not let her off the hook entirely. Stubbornly aiming for the fox's feet as she paces, hoping to force Wessex to spring backwards as she releases the band.

Where she comes from, there are no saviors

Wessex

some turn to dust or to gold, but you will remember me

Has Hotaru ever heard a fox laugh? It’s a delightful sound - infectious even - and the high-pitched sound of amusement rolls out of Wessex’s open mouth like the mischievous cackle of an imp in disguise. Like Hotaru could hit her… with that. Better yet, that it would hurt her. Also amusing… but hopefully that thought isn’t evident. She doesn’t know how strong Ru is on the Attuend side, or whether or not she can feel Attune-y emotions if she isn’t shifted. All of that is still very foreign.

It doesn’t take much skill for her to dodge the ball, even though it strikes the slats just ahead of her and bounces a bit. She does a high little hop, tails fanning out behind her, before she lands again. Scampering after the ball, Wessex catches it in her mouth and then whirls around, chuffing at Ru, the shiny object glinting between her teeth. Quickly moving towards the Valkyrie to offer her ammo back to her, Wessex waits until it’s taken from her mouth before briefly nuzzling one of her favorite hands. It’s only for a second or two before she stops, looks up at the forbidden face, and disappears.

{Fin}

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